might come to investigate. Then he would be discovered.
“That’s it,” he said. “Breathe, Hessa. Let it out.”
She took in a deep breath and exhaled, her body, her legs quaking from what he had done to her. His finger pulled out, leaving her empty. Then he positioned her body, turning her face to the grass stuffed mattress, bending her knees so that her backside faced him. The thick, round head of his cock slid up and down along her slit, once, twice, three times. He guided it down to her clitoris, already so sensitive from what he had done, then to her entry where he circled and pushed in a small amount. This part of him was bigger than his finger had been.
“Breathe,” he told her again. “Relax.”
She did as he commanded. His length pushed into her achingly slow, stretching her to accommodate his girth. And even that felt good. She scooted back to take more of him. He took hold of her hips and began a quick thrusted dance. Deep into her he pressed, then out, then in. His body slapped against hers. The cot creaked faster and faster.
She fisted the mattress hard and gasped. His hand swept beneath her body to her abdomen and he began to pound her pussy, burying himself deeper and deeper until she thought she might be torn in two.
He groaned behind her and grunted. She felt a flood of hot moisture erupt inside her body. Gunnar stilled, his cock still penetrating her. She was afraid to move when the orgasm hit her body. This one was not as strong as the first. Hessa felt exhausted. Sweat beaded her body. He thrust one final time, filling her. Then he withdrew from her body completely, leaving her to collapse on the cot. She lay there, struggling to catch her breath.
Hessa was vaguely aware of him moving through the small room, of the splash of water in her washbasin, of the sounds of fabric being pulled together. The cot strained and creaked before she felt the shock of a cold, moist cloth come between her legs.
“Your maiden’s blood,” he said in a soothing voice. “I shouldn’t have been so rough.” He lay down beside her and kissed her shoulder, gathering her backward against his body.
“That was…not as I expected it would be,” she whispered. “So powerful.”
She felt his cheek rise on her shoulder as he smiled. “But I should have waited. It was wrong of me to take you like that.”
She turned in his arms and looked up into his dark eyes. “Will it always be that way when you take me?”
He frowned for a moment, pondering her question. “First times are not always like this. I hope it will be something you look back on without regret. Did I hurt you?”
Her body did feel sore, but not in a bad way. Timidly, she dared to say, “You can hurt me this way again. As many times as you like.” He smiled at that. Heat rushed to her face. As much as she had longed to do this with him, she didn’t think it would make her feel this way. Her body was tingling; her mind was clear and free of worries. She felt at peace with herself, and a part of something other than Omi House.
“Rest a little while, Hessa, and when you are ready, we should leave this place before the sun is completely risen.”
“We should leave now then. There’s no time for rest. I would be dressing and soon heading to my duties at this time of the morning.”
He kissed her forehead. “Very well then.” Gunnar pushed up from the cot and began to gather her belongings. There was very little, but he placed each thing, her comb, her supply of worn clothes, and the few trinkets she had collected over the years into a pile and wrapped them into a bundle made from a bed linen. She stood to ready herself to leave, but her legs shivered so badly that Hessa fell forward.
Gunnar caught her and steadied her against his body. “Rest a little more,” he soothed. “Your body is tired. We have time to make our escape.” He set her back across the cot and draped the thin blanket atop her. “I’ll watch over you.”
She nodded and sighed. He looked like a guardian as he went to the small window and squinted at the outside world. But she knew there was cause to worry. If the cell keeper remembered anything of the night before, he would remember that he had taken her to his home, and he was bright enough to guess that she had stolen the keys to the prisoners.
Chapter Five
Hessa poked her head outside her room and stared at the line of guards that crossed the street. These were nothing more than paid assassins sent to recapture the men who had escaped. And if they killed them by accident, surely their fee would be less, but what mattered was that no one escaped. It would be bad for business. Omi House thrived on control, on a plentiful supply of whores to bed and men to fight in the pits-bawdy entertainment for the men and women of the assassin guilds that paid dearly for something to see or do that that was out of the ordinary.
She waited until the guards passed before she stepped out into the street. Rain drizzled from the wan clouds clinging to the sky. The sun fought to shine down on the world. She started along the street, keeping close to the buildings. Gunnar soon followed, wearing a makeshift wrap about his body as if he were one of the harem girls from the east. All she could see were his eyes. His massive sword was disguised in the wrappings and tied at his back. She feared someone would stop them. He was so tall, a giant walking amidst people who were one or two heads shorter.
They passed the fighting pits, and even in the slight rain people had began to gather for a show. Wild animals growled and roared from the lower pens where they were kept before they were set into the arena. She looked back and saw the emotions in her lover’s eyes. No fear, but something sadder, more terrible, the look of a man who had seen death and suffering too many times. “We can take the trade road.” She had never followed it before today, but she knew it led to other cities, to the forestlands, to countless places that exported goods to Bisura. The one thing Hessa didn’t know was how far they would need to travel to be safe.
Gunnar’s eyes softened. He hurried his pace with a few strides until they walked in time with one another. “Should something go wrong, run.” He patted her shoulder. “You run away, and I will find you, Hessa.”
She nodded.
They bypassed two taverns and a smaller building she knew to be where the children were housed. A play yard in the back offered sounds of laughter and sing-song games. She remembered her own time there with little fondness. It was there that the headmaster had punished her for stealing by lashing her back with the whip. And she had fought him then, only to have her spirit broken and her face cut with the man’s dagger. She looked ahead, trying to bury that memory. “When we reach the outskirts, there will be farmland,” she told him. “Then I think we will come to the forests.”
“Anywhere is better than this Godsforsaken city. The first town we come to, I will find work. We can save up enough coins to buy a horse. Then travel the roads south to the sea.” He squinted at the horizon.
Hessa followed his gaze, curious and thinking perhaps he knew the way to go better than she could guess. His fingers caught hold of hers to squeeze and offer comfort. She realized why. Ahead at the city gates were several guards, and these men did not look like they had been drinking the night away like the ones form the cells.
Gunnar’s hand slipped away from hers. “Remember what I told you. Run. Don’t look back. I will follow after you when I can. We are meant to be together. The Gods will give us that chance again if we part ways.”
She fought the urge to turn and go back to her room. Freedom had never been this close. She knew the men ahead would not let them pass. Dread filled her. There was no escape, no way out. Life would go back to what it had always been-endless days of cleaning, working, lewd comments from drunk men that didn’t see her as anything of value. She looked back the way they had come, at the children’s building and the arena beyond. Then she remembered what that brothel woman had whispered in her mind. “They will not break me,” Hessa whispered, repeating that woman’s words. She curled her fingers into fists.
Gunnar stepped away from her as if to walk in another direction. He started to hum, his voice low and mesmerizing. Wind swept up from the valley beyond the city and pushed back her hair. She marched forth, scared but determined. “They will not break me,” she repeated to steel her resolve.
The light drizzle became heavier. Droplets of rain pattered down all around her on the hard-packed dirt road. She kept setting one leather clad foot before the other until she was but a few steps from the line of dangerous men that waited to stop her.
