House of Freya: A Viking Lore Erotic Tale (Viking Lore Erotic Tales Book 1) Read Free Page A

crisp white tunics, stood waiting.
                  "Hrolf, Lars, please see to my guest. Take her to the Rose Rooms and see that she has everything she needs." Freya turned to Sigrun. "I'm sure that you are exhausted from your travels. You need food and rest tonight, and we can continue our conversation in the morning."
                  Sigrun would have preferred not to wait, but she had to admit that a certain languor had stolen into her limbs. The smell of crisp apples and spice seemed to cling to her, and the warmth of the room had so relaxed her that she felt disinclined to argue. Food and rest sounded good. She followed the attendants up the stairs and down another hallway to a set of doors painted with red roses, and they opened them onto what could only be described as a delightfully inviting set of rooms.
                  The central chamber held a large, round table and heavy, cushioned chairs. A light pattern of roses and scrolls, in reds and pale blues, was stenciled on the walls. The red chair cushions and thick, white fur rugs on the floor were sumptuous and welcoming. A fire burned cheerfully in a hearth. On the same wall as the hearth, an arched doorway led into a smaller, tiled room that held a large bathtub. On the opposite wall, a larger arch led into a bedroom with possibly the biggest bed Sigrun had ever seen.
                  The table held a pitcher, a goblet, and a bowl of fruit. One of the attendants — Lars, she believed — stepped forward, filled the goblet, and offered it to her.
                  "Warm spiced wine. Please have a drink while we prepare a bath, after which we will bring a proper meal for you."
                  Hrolf offered a chair, and Sigrun sank gladly into the soft cushions, taking a sip from her goblet. The wine was very good. It tasted amazingly good. It glided down her throat and sent waves of warmth from her cheeks all the way to her toes.
                  Lars busied himself in the bathroom, and Sigrun could see clouds of steam rising from the tub. She caught the scent of spices again, mixed, she thought, with the smell of roses. She took another sip of wine. Hrolf knelt before her and asked if he might help her with her boots. She nodded lazily, and he set to work deftly unlacing ties and loosening buckles. He handled them with care, running his fingers over the unique dragonskin leather with a sort of admiration verging on reverence. She found herself admiring the gentle firmness of his grip on her calf as he slid the boot shaft down and pulled it from her foot. 
                  Lars emerged from the bathroom. "My lady, your bath is ready."
                  Sigrun was so comfortable in her seat, she was reluctant to rouse herself from it, but the thought of sinking into a hot bath after her long journey won her over. She stood up and began unfastening her various belts and cuffs.
                  "Please, our mistress Freya commands that we tend to her guests' every need. We are here to serve you. Let us do that for you."
                  The demure earnestness in her attendants' eyes convinced Sigrun that they genuinely meant to serve her. She was also no stranger to submitting, whether one wanted to or not, to the rules of one's host. At least this time she was a willing guest. And since she had sought this place out, she knew that she should accept whatever was offered to her, until she had good reason to do otherwise. She nodded and gave herself up to the able hands of Hrolf and Lars.
                  Able hands indeed. Somehow in the process of unfastening armbands and unhooking clasps, they simultaneously rubbed her shoulders and massaged her neck. They handled the layers of her attire with the greatest of care and expertise. Soon the stiff protective pieces had been carefully collected and set aside, and they were peeling the soft,