"Do you like what you see, traitor?" (Y/n) asked, as she lay herself down in the tub. Her hands slowly making their way up from her legs to her stomach and then breasts.

"I know you do. I can see your cock twitch in your trousers. Tell me......what would you give to bury yourself inside me; to have me moan out your name as you push yourself into my body? What would you give to have me take you into my mouth and pleasure you until your seed makes it way down my throat? Would you give me my freedom if I satisfied you as no other woman has been able to? Would you send me back to Ragnar if I could make you pray to the gods, for me not to stop riding you as if you were some untamed stallion........?"

"You can forget about Ragnar. You will never see my brother again. You are mine now, Wolf. Mine to do with as I wish.........." Rollo retorted. It obvious from his tone that he was angry at the mention of his younger brother, as he turned his back on her and filled a glass with wine.

"Is that right? Well.......Duke of Normandy. If you wish me to be nothing more than an object you believe that you can just say is yours, then I have no desire to bathe. I might be a prisoner, a slave, but you cannot make me wash, if I do not want to. And your threats, your warnings mean nothing to me. I am a Viking, not some Frankish lady that shakes and shivers at your mere presence; that wets herself at the sound of your voice. You better than anyone should know I do not fear death. I am the Wolf, and you should remember that........." (Y/n) growled back, throwing the sodden washcloth at the back of Rollo's head. The duke gripping it tightly and letting the water drip over his fingers and onto the floor, before he turned. A wicked smile gracing her features, as she looked up at him. Her hands still slowly caressing her naked body. Her eyes closing as she let one disappear below the water. Rollo quickly gulping down the contents of his glass, as the Wolf let out a lewd moan.

He knew she was right. Threats, warnings, would work on other people; but not her. Even a promise to kill his own brother was not enough to tame her, because she knew Ragnar better. And he knew her well enough to know what she would do if he kept his promise.........she would keep hers. And even if she died trying to escape his castle, she would take him and as many of his people with her as she could. So, it would appear that the only one that would be tamed, was him. Rollo removing his heavy tunic and then his undershirt, before making his way over to her. Her eyes slowly opening, as he knelt by the side of the bath, and dipped the cloth in the warm water, before placing it to her foot then slowly drawing it up her leg. The dirt and dried blood, staining the water that surrounded her.

"Is this how you want me, (Y/n)? On my knees, at your feet? It is no place for a Viking............"

"Ah, but you are no longer a Viking, Rollo. You betrayed you people, your kin and your gods, for a title and fine clothes in a foreign land. You no longer deserve to call yourself, one of us......a Viking. You are less in my eyes, than even the thralls that serve in the Great Hall; that warm the beds of the men that come to Kattegat. So yes, on your knees is exactly where I want you. At my feet, begging for my forgiveness. Begging for me to not release my wrath on all those that call this place home. Begging me to give you what it is I know you want, so desperately. What you have wanted since we first fought on the battlefield together. For I am not blind to how you looked at me. Not blind to the jealousy that would burn behind those oh so pretty eyes of yours, when your brother or some other man would get too close. If only you had been enough of a man to come and tell me that you wanted me. If you had been strong enough to take me and fuck me, on any of those nights instead of drinking yourself into a stupor, I would have happily given that Viking anything that he wanted, anything that he desired. But you.......this is just a shell of what you once were. So, if you want me to give you what I would have happily given the Rollo of old, then you must kiss my feet, and plead for me to be yours............." (Y/n) said, her voice only just above a whisper, as she leant over and spoke into Rollo's ear. The duke feeling a cold shiver travel down his spine as her lips ghosted over his cheek. The older son of Sigurd forgetting himself; losing himself in the need to touch her body. Rollo moving so that he could take her foot into his hand, before bringing it to him. A kiss placed against her toes, before one word left his lips.

"Please.............."