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Her mind was also occupied with the numerous things she wanted to see and do during her short stay in Byzantium, and, yea, three months was not nearly enough time, but longer than she wanted to be parted from Runa. Worry over Sidroc’s obvious anger also kept her awake.
Mayhap she should get up and close that wall now.
But she did not.
So it was her fault that just as she’d slipped into a light slumber she heard a rustling sound in her room. Before she could open her eyes, thinking it was probably Anna, who’d already checked on her three times, a heavy weight landed on her and a hand pressed over her mouth, stifling her scream. A man, she decided.
Whoever it was said nothing as she squirmed, trying to dislodge him. He just lay on her like a dead weight, almost suffocating her. One hand held her wrists over her head. The other hand still pressed against her mouth. His legs were wrapped around hers. She was immobilized.
“I am going to lift my hand. When I do, if you make even a squeak, I swear, I will strip you naked and blister your backside with the flat of my broadsword.”
It was Sidroc.
“Do you understand, princess?”
Before she had a chance to respond, he released his hand over her mouth, and she began, “Are you demented? How did you get in here?”
“Uh-uh! Bad girling! Bad! I told you to remain silent. Well then, you must prefer I do this.” He put a hand over her breast, and began to massage it roughly. She was wearing only a thin sleep rail, and it was as if he was touching her bare flesh. Even worse, she could feel his thickening against her thigh.
She made a whimpering sound.
“Does that mean you are ready to remain silent whilst I talk?”
She nodded.
“You will speak only when I ask a question. There is naught else you have to say of interest to me.”
If you only knew!
He took his hands off her mouth and wrists and rose to a kneeling position, his rump resting lightly on her legs.
“You are in such trouble, Drifa. Why did you come to Byzantium?”
“To study flowers.”
“Did you know I was here?”
“What?” That question surprised her. “Why would I come here if ... oh, I see. You think I am chasing after you.” She made a tsking sound of disgust.
“You were hot for me once,” the cad pointed out. She started to say something and he wagged a forefinger at her. “Speak only in answering my questions. Remember.”
She pressed her lips tightly together, but her eyes shot daggers at him.
He just laughed. “So, have you killed any more men since I saw you last?”
“I did not kill you.”
“You tried.”
“I did not! I merely tapped you on the head with a pitcher. How was I to know your head was eggshell thin and would crack so easily? Do you behave in this lackbrained manner because some of your brains seeped out?”
“Nay, but a part of me has grown larger. Foolish maid, did I not tell you to remain silent?” He leaned forward a bit so that the bulge beneath his braies touched her nether parts.
Noting with hysterical irrelevance that he wore typical Norse attire now, not the Varangian uniform, she gasped and tried to push against his chest. “You brute! You ignorant oaf. Leave off!”
Which only caused him to take her hands in his again, lacing them on either side of her head. Then in one fluid move, he hooked her ankles with his and spread her legs wide. Arching back on extended arms, his position made his hard rod fit itself into her woman-channel. Only his braies and her sleep rail separated them.
To her dismay, it seemed lodged against a part of her in such a way that even the slightest movement caused ripples of pleasure to sweep out to other parts of her body. “You have no right to treat me with such disrespect.”
