BJORN DECIDED, as Chase attended his back and legs with warm sweeps of a soft cloth rich with the scents of flowers and spices, that taking a shower was not necessarily a bad thing.
To take a shower, evidently, meant to stand quietly beneath the spray as one might stand in a summer rainstorm, not to physically capture it in one’s hands. An honest mistake, and one Bjorn was certain every warrior must make when first confronted with it. It was Chase’s fault, after all. ’Twas Chase who gave Bjorn the impression he wished Bjorn to do battle with the damnable thing. He should have been more specific.
It felt rather nice, he thought, tipping his head forward and letting the spray pulse against the back of his neck. Calming. Soothing. Bjorn felt the tension he’d borne in his shoulders and back evaporate under the hot water and Chase’s talented fingers, massaged away by the scrap of fabric Chase drew along his flesh.
His cock roared to life, dispelling his feeling of relaxation, when Chase touched the rag to it. Suddenly, taking a shower took on a whole new meaning. Still, Bjorn wasn’t about to allow himself to spill from a few meager touches of cloth to cock, no matter how strenuously his body yearned for it. Gritting his teeth, he endured, until at last Chase left his organ in peace.
But Bjorn’s eyes popped wide when he felt Chase dip the cloth between his asscheeks, sliding the slippery, soapy rag intimately over his hole. That was a place no one ventured without Bjorn’s explicit permission, and he bristled a bit since he didn’t recall Chase asking his leave.
Oh, but the warm cloth felt good, tickling at his hole, slipping and sliding between his cheeks. Good enough that his tenuous control over his cock evaporated.
How long had it been since Bjorn last tasted the pleasures of the flesh? So long that he could barely remember the deed, and his cock was shouting at him to correct that grievous error. It swelled even more, the flesh heavy between his thighs, and Bjorn’s breath grew ragged. He was tempted to brace his arms against the slick walls and bend over for Chase.
That would never do. While Vikings had no qualms about fucking whoever was handy, male or female, whenever the need arose, at no time would a Viking worth his salt ever consider submitting. Submission was for females and weaker men. Bjorn had always dominated every facet of his life, from war to bed play, and wasn’t about to change now, even if the whims of the gods had tossed him ten centuries into the future.
Taking himself in hand was not an option either. There were two things Bjorn Eriksson had never stooped to in his lifetime: trading coin for sex and fucking his fist. Not even as a beardless youth had he spilled his own seed, and he certainly wouldn’t suffer himself the humiliation of tumbling his own cock now that he was a man.
In Lagarvík there had always been someone within arm’s reach who’d been more than willing to lie beneath him. When he’d gone a-Viking, he’d taken his pleasures in the bodies of those subjugated under his sword. That was the way of his world. The strong took, and the weaker gave.
Growling low in his chest, lust beginning to boil his blood and awaken the berserker within him, Bjorn turned around to face Chase. In that moment he wasn’t sure if he meant to hammer Chase for stirring up a hornet’s nest in his groin or slake his lusts with him under the warm shower spray, but the one thing Bjorn did know was that in either case, Chase was in for the pounding of his lifetime.
A smirk lifted Bjorn’s lips, conceited and fully male, as he noticed the look of incredulity on Chase’s face, the impact of being face-to-nose with Bjorn’s engorged arousal imprinting itself on his features.
Ja, Bjorn mused, watching Chase’s eyes widen and his lips part. Bjorn felt the small, involuntary whoosh of air leave Chase’s lungs. ’Tis a sight to behold, for certain. Take your time. Look your fill. His cock continued to swell until he feared it would split along the seams. For I vow that the fantasies you weave around it will be naught near the reality.
Reaching down, Bjorn twisted his fingers into the short locks of Chase’s hair and pulled his head back, forcing his gaze to leave Bjorn’s groin and meet his own. In their wide, dark depths, Bjorn saw surprise tinged with fear. But there was something else flickering there, something that was trying to gain a toehold even as Chase fought to keep it caged.
Desire.
As Bjorn watched, Chase’s tongue peeked out between his parted lips, wetting them. That tiny tease of pink sent a shiver through Bjorn that raised gooseflesh on his arms and legs. Unconsciously, he released Chase’s hair as he thrust his hips forward, demanding Chase put that tongue to work on Bjorn’s straining erection.
A slight shake of Chase’s head befuddled Bjorn. No? No was not in Bjorn’s vocabulary at the moment. He didn’t quite grasp Chase’s meaning—it danced just out of range of comprehension. Yes. Yes was the only acceptable answer, the only word that existed as far as Bjorn was concerned.
But Chase didn’t lean forward and touch that tempting bit of pink velvet to Bjorn’s cock. Rather, he sucked it back in between his teeth and draped the washcloth over Bjorn’s erection, a soft white cape that molded to the shape of his arousal.
“I think you can take it from here,” Chase said, backpedaling away from the shower stall.
Bjorn stood stock still, staring at the bit of white cloth that adorned his organ, not quite understanding what had just happened. No one had ever said no to him before. Not when it came to sex. Not when it came to anything, really.
Stepping out of the shower-trough, Bjorn stalked into the other room, dripping, hunting for Chase. He found him staring out the window that opened to the beach, his back to Bjorn.
“Tend me,” Bjorn commanded, pointing toward his still-draped cock. It had softened a bit, evidently as confused as Bjorn was by Chase’s refusal. No matter. It would rise again swiftly, as soon as Chase dropped to his knees and did as he was ordered. “Chase? Do you not hear me? Tend me, I said.”
“Not a good idea, Bjorn.”
“Bah! It is an excellent idea. Come here,” Bjorn said imperiously.
“No.”
“There is that word again!” Bjorn grumbled, marching to where Chase stood, still gazing out at the beach. “Look at me. Why do you resist me? I saw the need in your eyes. Your body betrays you, Chase.”
“My body doesn’t make my decisions for me, Bjorn. My brain does. And right now it’s telling me to put as much distance between you and me as possible.”
“Why?”
“Why? Well, let’s see…. First, we’ve just met, and I don’t make a habit of fucking perfect strangers. Oh yeah, and there’s that thing about you being over a thousand years old too. That has a little bit to do with my decision,” Chase hissed. His gaze flicked up toward Bjorn, sparking angrily. “I don’t even know for sure what you are!”
“I am human, Chase,” Bjorn said softly, surprising himself. His admission was more of a confession than he’d ever made to anyone before in his lifetime. He’d always much preferred everyone around him think of him as a Viking, a berserker, or perhaps even a god, rather than as a mere human being.
“Are you? Human beings don’t catapult forward in time, Bjorn.”
“’Twas not my decision to come here, nor did I force you to bring me to your abode. But I am here now, and I need, Chase. You do, as well. Why fight what our bodies crave?”
He could see a flicker of indecision in Chase’s eyes, and that momentary hesitation was all Bjorn needed. Reaching out, he pulled Chase to him. Trapping Chase’s face between his hands, Bjorn took his lips in a fiery kiss. Demanding, proprietary, and relentless, Bjorn’s tongue conquered Chase’s mouth no less surely than he had conquered kingdoms, boldly and with no intention of giving way. It was a kiss of claiming, one meant to burn his taste forever onto Chase’s skin and into his memory.
Chase pressed his hands against him for a heartbeat or two, pushing him away, before sliding up over Bjorn’s chest and shoulders, fingers twisting in Bjorn’s wet hair. Bjorn swallowed Chase’s soft moan as Chase’s body melded against his, the evidence of Chase’s need pushing against Bjorn’s groin.
Bjorn felt a spark of conceit flare in his heart as Chase melted into his kiss—nothing had changed with the passage of time. Bjorn was still an undeniable force. Chase might as well have been trying to push back the waves that crashed upon the sands than resist him.
Bjorn needed to feel skin under his hands, not cloth. Growling against Chase’s lips, he gripped Chase’s shirt in his fists and pulled, ripping a long, jagged tear up the back. Chase gasped, but Bjorn swallowed his protest, his tongue lashing Chase’s into quiet submission. Pulling the material free from Chase’s shoulders, he let it drop to the floor.
Under his hands, Chase’s smooth, warm skin felt like the soft bolts of cloth Bjorn had found in the tents of Bedouins in the lands never kissed by the cold breath of winter. Trailing his fingers along Chase’s backbone, he traced the knobs to the small of his back where the waistband of Chase’s odd leggings prevented further exploration.
Chase unexpectedly nipped at Bjorn’s lip, startling him. Bjorn laughed at the look of consternation on his face as Chase hurriedly removed his trousers, no doubt seeking to keep them from suffering the same fate as his shirt.
Bjorn’s lips curled in a predatory smile as he feasted his eyes on Chase’s exposed flesh. Strong and firm, there wasn’t an inch of fat on Chase’s long bones. Because of the magnificence of the castle Chase lived in, Bjorn had expected him to be soft and pampered, like many of the princes of the kingdoms Bjorn had conquered. Protected by mercenaries and coddled by the luxuries their wealth could buy them, they had been sallow, weak men who broke easily under Bjorn’s attack. But he was pleasantly surprised to find a warrior’s body hiding beneath Chase’s odd clothing.
He must have wings on his feet in battle, or be protected by the gods, Bjorn thought as he perused Chase’s smooth skin. There isn’t a scar to be found on him.
What fascinated Bjorn more was Chase’s cock, ramrod straight, thick, and shorn of its foreskin. Only a few times in his travels to the south had Bjorn encountered men whose members had been thusly disfigured, and he had never bedded one. Even more curious was the lack of hair at its root, or anywhere else on Chase’s body, except for that on his head.
Intrigued, Bjorn reached out to touch Chase’s genitals, to skim his hand across the smooth skin that surrounded his cock, anxious to determine if Chase’s sac felt as silken as it looked. But to his frustration, Chase slid quickly away, sitting and scooting onto the bedding. Lying down, he looked at Bjorn from under his dark lashes, licking his lower lip as his hands skimmed over his flesh, playing almost idly with his nipples.
Vixen. Chase was teasing Bjorn, his fingers drifting from his nipples over the ridged muscle of his stomach and lower, brushing over his cock, and cupping his balls.
A growl rumbled low in Bjorn’s throat as his body tightened painfully. Watching Chase touch himself, however briefly, had Bjorn hard, aching, and he snarled as he flung himself onto the bed.
Like a starving man presented with a bountiful buffet, Bjorn was at odds at where to start tasting first. He settled for Chase’s right nipple, pulling the hard bud between his teeth and nipping until Chase moaned and thrust his hips up under Bjorn’s body. Chase’s cock burned against Bjorn’s thigh, droplets of warm, wet heat dampening his skin.
Slowly, he licked his way down the smooth expanse of Chase’s chest and stomach, sparing not an inch of flesh from his tongue and teeth. Beneath him, Chase bucked and trembled, gasping and groaning with each light bite of Bjorn’s teeth or flick of Bjorn’s tongue against his skin. His cries fueled Bjorn’s desire, his cock dripping with need. Yet he forced himself to go even slower, determined to thoroughly explore and enjoy Chase’s body.
Pulling back a moment, Bjorn admired Chase’s genitals, the smooth lines of his cock with its rounded head and tiny slit bubbling with drops of precome. A thick, heavy vein ran its length, and it bobbed before Bjorn’s eyes as if beckoning his lips to taste it.
He took the head of Chase’s cock between his lips, his mouth filling with Chase’s salty-bitter flavor as he pulled the hot velvet length deep into his throat. Releasing it, Bjorn licked over the vein that throbbed just beneath the delicate skin, feeling the life pulsing under his tongue.
Smooth skin surrounded Chase’s shaft, and unable to resist, Bjorn dipped his head, his tongue exploring the silky texture. His nostrils filled with Chase’s musky scent, Chase’s cock leaving a warm, wet trail against Bjorn’s cheek.
“Bjorn, please….”
“Nei. Not yet,” Bjorn growled. “First I taste. Then I take.” Lowering his head, he took Chase’s sac into his mouth. Bjorn had once owned a coin purse made from a material unlike any he had ever known, bought from a trader who claimed to have seen the land that gave birth to the sun each morn. Until now it had been the softest thing Bjorn had ever touched. Chase’s hairless sac felt much like that purse had when stuffed with coin—silky smooth, heavy, and full.
“Bjorn, goddamn it! Don’t make me fucking beg,” Chase groaned, his fingers twisting in Bjorn’s hair, hips thrusting.
Bjorn released Chase’s sac and got up to his knees. His erection was demanding now, dripping as he rubbed it against Chase’s thigh. Grabbing Chase’s hips, he flipped him over onto his stomach.
Twin mounds of flesh—rounded, firm, and completely hairless—called to Bjorn like the sirens lured men to the sea. He indulged himself immediately, attacking Chase’s ass with both hands and his mouth. He squeezed, licked, and nipped, burying his face between Chase’s silken cheeks, tonguing the pebbled flesh of his hole until Chase bucked up underneath him, begging him for relief.
“Bjorn, please! Fuck me!” he cried, writhing on the linens.
“Ja, now,” Bjorn agreed, his body giving him no further choice. Either he would sink himself into Chase’s body to slake his lust or wet the sheets with his seed—either way, his traitorous body had decided enough was enough and it would wait no longer.
Holding Chase’s asscheeks spread wide, he pressed the head of his turgid erection against the tiny, ridged hole.
“Wait!” Chase cried, sliding out from under him.
“Wait?” Bjorn repeated. Wait? Why? Bjorn was ready now. He snarled, reaching for Chase, intending to pull him back into position, but Chase slipped away.
“Just a minute, Viking,” Chase chuckled. He tore through a small satchel and removed a pair of small, unidentifiable objects. To Bjorn’s relief, Chase returned to the bed just as quickly, offering them both to Bjorn.
“I need no gifts, Chase. All I need is to stick myself into your body. Now lie down,” Bjorn growled impatiently.
“These aren’t gifts. This is lube, and this is a condom. Use ’em.”
“How?”
“How?” Chase repeated, looking at Bjorn as if he were Hans the Simple, looking at him as if he thought Bjorn were sorely soft in the head. But before Bjorn could retaliate with a cutting remark or curse, Chase did the most remarkable thing.
Tearing open the small, colorful package, Chase took a very thin, membrane-like object out and rolled it down over Bjorn’s cock, where it fit like a second skin. Unusual to say the least, Bjorn was distracted by both the feel and texture of the material that covered his organ. Enough so that he almost didn’t notice Chase kneel before him, his fingers coated with something slick, probing at his own asshole.
Oh, oil! That was what Chase meant by “lube.” Why didn’t he simply say so? Bjorn had no clue what the penis-sheath was for, but he was far too gone to try to decipher its meaning. Unwilling to wait another moment, Bjorn batted Chase’s hand away, pressed his cock to Chase’s asshole, and slid himself into Chase’s body.
Gods! So hot! So tight! Bjorn gritted his teeth and groaned as he angled himself, pushing in deeper and deeper yet, until his hip bones met the soft flesh of Chase’s ass. He stilled, willing his body to obey him. Move, even an inch, and Bjorn knew he would lose control, reaching release far sooner than he intended. That would not do, not at all. No Viking worth his salt would lose his senses so quickly. Bjorn was no rutting dog, content to bury his cock, pump a few times, and be done with it. Vikings likened sex to food—it was to be savored, to be thoroughly enjoyed, and to be taken in large quantities as often as humanly possible.
Chase grunted beneath him, wiggling his ass like a fish caught on a spear. Bjorn laid his palm across Chase’s asscheeks, and got both a yelp and the sight of his handprint rising in pink against Chase’s pale flesh. Both sent a delicious tremor through Bjorn’s balls, urging him to repeat the experience on the other side of Chase’s ass.
“Bjorn! What are you doing?” Chase cried, eyes wide as he stared at Bjorn from over his shoulder.
Bjorn’s lips tilted in a knowing smile—Chase’s words might question, but there was a fire in his eyes that spoke more loudly. A fire that said more.
And more was exactly what Bjorn gave him.
Another swat across his bottom sent a visible shiver through Chase’s flesh and drew a long, undulating moan from his lips. Bjorn began to move slowly, torturously so, giving Chase only a taste, a tease, until Chase quivered and begged.
“Please, Bjorn. For the love of God, fuck me!”
Chase’s sweet pleading shredded the last of Bjorn’s self-control. With a roar that could no doubt be heard all the way in Valhalla, Bjorn set his lust free, his hips slamming brutally against Chase’s ass.
That Chase took him in fully—nei, met him equally thrust for thrust—pleased Bjorn and sharpened his lust to a painful peak. It sliced through Bjorn’s body, surging through his veins, seeking release. Unable to hold back a moment longer, he came, bellowing his pleasure in a throat-rasping, primal scream.
Beneath him, Chase’s body shuddered as he milked himself of his seed. His cry was softer than Bjorn’s had been, but no less passionate, swelling Bjorn’s ego. At that moment Bjorn was positive no other being—human, god, or otherwise—had ever performed so well. The thought added to his pleasure, his orgasm spiraling higher and higher until he finally fell bodily atop Chase, trembling in the aftermath of his climax.
All hail Bjorn the Conqueror.