VIKING THRALL (Historical Romance, Medieval, Viking) Read Online Free PDF

reprieve, not even a softer dress.
                  She would escape him somehow.
                  She must!
     
     
     
     
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                  Magnus stared at his slave. She looked… diminished somehow. The sparkle had dimmed. She still looked lovely, even in the white gown. The color was extremely becoming to her, even if it was shapeless.
                  He took a piece of rope and tied it around her waist. There, twas a bit better. Now he could see her curves as she went about her day.
                  Of course, he longed to see her in Viking finery fit for a queen.
                  His queen.
                  Perhaps, if she pleased him as he knew she could, he would reward her with fine things. And jewels.
                  If she pleased him.
                  "Why are you grimacing? Is it your bottom?"
                  "Nay. Tis nothing."
                  "I can plainly see that something is awry."
                  She sighed full of exasperation. He almost smiled though he knew he shouldn't encourage her cheek. A bit of her spirit seemed to be back.
                  "The dress. Tis scratchy."
                  He leered at her.
                  "Well, you can always take it off."
                  She shook her head so quickly that he had to laugh.
                  "Let me see."
                  He reached out and ran the flat of his palm over her body. She gasped and tried to step away. He continued his exploration, starting to realize she wasn't exaggerating.
                  The gown felt like it was made of crushed stone. And briars. He sighed.
                  "If you behave well, I will find you something better to wear."
                  "Give me a task then!"
                  He smiled at her.
                  "Alright. Fetch me some wine and two goblets and we will begin your first lesson."
                  She nodded eagerly and backed away from him as if she did not quite trust him not to pounce on her. She was wise to fear that. He was already planning to pounce on her as soon as she returned.
                  She was back quickly, bearing a tray with two goblets and a flagon of wine.
                  She set it down on the small table by the fire and backed away. He poured them each a glass and held one out to her.
                  "Come here Esme. Taste the wine."
                  She walked forward and accepted the glass of wine from him before quickly stepping back again. By Odin, she was skittish!
                  "Is it custom to share wine with a slave?"
                  "Nay."
                  She blinked up at him and took a sip.
                  "More. Finish the cup."
                  The wine was strong and would relax her. He knew he could force himself on her at any time and no one would gain say him. But he'd given her his word.
                  Somehow he found the thought of frightening her distasteful.
                  That didn't mean he wouldn't get what he wanted of her. It didn't mean he would be patient. He'd have his pleasure from her, and soon.
                  Starting tonight!

Seven
     
     
     
     
                  Esme was feeling decidedly drowsy after the hot bath and strong wine. Never mind that her day had begun being tossed about in a storm, dragged across an unknown countryside and then spanked like a child. She was tired. Almost too tired to keep her wits about her.
                  But she must.
                  The Viking sat in a large chair by the fire and patted his lap. He looked like a King. He was probably