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CHAPTER 10
“Sit down and eat your toast and jam like a good girl,” said Steen as he handed me a plate with a thick slice of warm bread slathered with butter and boysenberry preserves.
Dutifully nodding yes, I curled my legs up beneath me and snuggled further into the quilt wrapped warmly around my body. It was now becoming my habit to grab the quilt off of whoever’s bed I arose from and drag it downstairs to sit before the fire in the morning. It was out of practicality, because I was usually left with no clothes after one of the huntsmen had finished with me. Yes, practicality. It had nothing to do with me wanting to surround myself in their scent or with me associating the warmth of the blanket with the warmth of their arms as they held me in bed as we slept. No, not at all. And it most definitely had nothing to do with me prolonging the memory of what had just occurred. Absolutely not! That would be absurd. Why would I want to preserve memories of pain and fear? Because they weren’t just memories of pain and fear, a little voice in my head nagged. They were also memories of intense passion, of feeding off their energy till my core buzzed with it…of finally feeling like I was living! Yes, life in all its messy glory.
No longer driven numb by the cold isolation of my former existence, my life now hummed with every spectrum of emotion…fear, confusion, anger, passion…maybe even love.
These boorish men with their forceful needs were also protective and almost kind in a primitive, dominant sort of way. They showed their kindness in a raw, straightforward manner, not with words but with deeds, like making sure I was eating enough or was warm enough.
As I sat on the cushioned bench, idly staring into the dancing flames, I realized with a start that I was enjoying the attention from these seven men, even enjoying their touch. And if I were completely honest with myself, their punishments. It reminded me of a child who misbehaved just to get attention because after spending so many years being ignored, it was exhilarating to know your every move, your every word, your every deed…and misdeed…was being noticed by someone…that someone cared enough to notice…and react.
I was so lost in my thoughts I almost didn’t notice when Odin sat on the bench next to mine and placed a package wrapped in brown paper on the seat beside me.
“What is this?”
Clearing his throat, he gruffly said, “It’s just something we picked up for you in town.”
Staring at him, I could almost imagine there was a slight blush to his cheeks. Pulling on the string, I slowly opened the package, wanting to savor every moment. I had not received a gift from someone since my father died all those years ago. Setting the string aside, I opened the folds of the crisp brown paper to reveal a folded piece of fabric in a bright, beautiful yellow. It looked like the plumage of a bird with its cheerful color. Touching the cloth almost reverently, I reveled in the soft, silky feel. Lifting the fabric up, I realized it was a skirt and underneath was a linen blouse, and a vest in deep blue with shiny, polished buttons. Beneath the clothing was a pair of black slippers.
“Oh, Odin! They are lovely!” I exclaimed as I jumped up and impulsively placed a kiss on his cheek.
Hiding a smile, he blushed and bashfully lowered his head. “It’s nothing. Just a bit of finery we thought you might like, lass.”
“Besides, we are all running out of shirts for you to ruin,” chimed in an amused Magni.
“It is not me who tears them off my body!” I responded indignantly.
My spirited response got a rousing laugh from all the men.
“Try them on. Let’s see if they fit,” piped in Jerrik.
Feeling a little shy from all the attention, I awkwardly tried to hold the quilt around my shoulders and gather up the garments to take them upstairs so I could change.
“Where are you going?” asked Dagr.
“To put on my new clothes.”
“You can stay right here before the fire and do that.”
“Here?”
“Here,” they all responded in unison.
It was not the first time they had made me bare myself to their eyes, but this time it felt…different. Before, I’d felt humiliated and degraded, but now I had this strange sense of empowerment. This surge of excitement from being the center of attention to so many brawny men. I was still nervous and shy but in an intense, sensual way.
Slowly, I let the blanket fall from my naked shoulders.
From their appreciative gazes, I knew they were pleased both with my obedience and with my body. Before I was brought here, my body had been just my body, nothing special, but since becoming the captive of the huntsmen, I had developed a whole new awareness of myself. Of the heavy feel of my breasts when the huntsmen touched me. How my stomach clenched in fear and anticipation. How rough their hands felt on my soft skin when they stroked my thighs or back. Of the tingling sensation between my legs when they looked at me as they were now.
