— And then, I swear by Odin, Ingrid… — he kept whispering, leaning even closer, so I clearly felt the warmth of his breath on my cheek and the smell that literally made me sick, — …we’ll build a house right by the fjord, where the wind isn’t so cruel and where you can see the water even in winter.
I kept smiling and tried not to move.
Fuck. This is getting way too close.
Too. Damn. Close.
And judging by everything, it was a mistake not to react, because it seemed like he decided his hands now belonged on my shoulders. One palm landed heavily behind me, wrapping around my shoulder, while the other confidently slid over my other bicep, squeezing it slightly, like checking how “pliant” I was. Right away I clearly felt how those damn heavy, firm tits, which I had been trying to ignore this whole time, jerked and, with that nasty-realistic sense of weight, softly brushed against his hand, sending a wave of goosebumps across my skin.
I tried to move away a little, but he only pulled me closer, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
— You’re quiet, Ingrid… — his voice dropped, almost purring. — That means you like it, yeah? Can you imagine how we’ll lie there in the mornings, and I’ll stroke you like this…
He ran his fingers down my shoulder to my elbow and back again, as if by accident brushing the side of my breast. It swayed, and I felt the nipple pull against the rough fabric. My cheeks flared up even more. Somewhere at the edge of my mind, a calm but already slightly tense voice of a support operator sounded:
‘Client, maintain the host’s behavioral pattern. Contact is allowed. Sharp rejection may cause suspicion.’
— Are you fucking kidding me… — I whispered barely audibly, almost not moving my lips.
— What? — he responded immediately, squeezing my hand a bit tighter, and I felt just how fucking strong he was.
— N-nothing, Eirik… — I forced out, trying to keep my voice from shaking, but it still came out shaky and sounded like that nervousness wasn’t because I, Brian Smith, a 22-year-old virgin from the twenty-second century who just wanted to be a cool Viking jarl for a day, had by mistake ended up in the body of this… Ingrid. It sounded like that nervousness came from Ingrid’s innocence.
And that, along with the fact that I wasn’t pushing him away, seemed to only turn this Eirik on more.
His palm on my shoulder tightened a little, fingers brushed over my collarbone, while his other hand confidently slid lower, grabbing my thigh through the thick wool skirt, making everything inside me clench, because the body… the body reacted before I could even process it.
My nipples tightened so sharply that I felt them press as hard little points through the thin linen shirt under the dress, and between my legs it suddenly became too warm for a second and at the same time even emptier than a moment ago.
I inhaled sharply, trying to keep my face calm, but my breathing still faltered.
— Eirik… — I exhaled, not fully understanding what I even wanted to say, because inside everything mixed together: panic, shame, irritation, and some strange, alien feeling that had nothing to do with who I used to be.
A year, damn it, a year. I ordered a fucking year and if they can’t do anything now, I’ll be stuck in the life of this “Ingrid” for a whole year until the automatic return system kicks in and her consciousness, which is now suspended animation (or stasis) in my body, comes back.
— Ingrid… — his wet lips touched my earlobe, and I flinched again, tensed up, pressing those tits inward with my shoulders as much as it was even possible, as if they could disappear from that, as if you could just physically cancel the very fact of their existence, but instead I only felt their weight, warmth, and how, squeezed, they still treacherously responded to the slightest movement.
— Let’s go to the… barn, — Eirik muttered right into my ear, and there was way too much male hunger in that tone. — It’s quiet there now. No one will bother us. I’ll show you how much I want you, my future wife…
“You can refuse! Sex before marriage is not a mandatory part of Ingrid’s life.”
Sex before marriage, fuck! Why the hell should I even be thinking about this? I haven’t had sex with a girl in my 22 years and now, ending up in the body of some woman from the past, I’m going to have sex in 15 minutes after getting into her body?
I sharply sucked in air, and it came out way too noticeable.
— Eirik… wait, — I exhaled, a bit firmer now, and finally moving further away from him as much as possible. My palm pressed against his chest and under my fingers I immediately felt his heart beating, fast and strong. Eirik froze, but didn’t let me go completely: his hand was still on my thigh, fingers lightly gripping the fabric of the skirt.
— What is it, my dear? — he whispered, and there was a mix of surprise and slight hurt in his voice. — You don’t like it? Or… or is it me you don’t like now?
The operator’s voice immediately sounded in my head — now noticeably nervous:
‘Client, don’t panic! The refusal came out a bit sharp, but we’re here and will help. It surprised him because Ingrid usually gets shy, but doesn’t push him away that abruptly. Remove your hand and kiss him on the cheek. Then say you’re tired today and leave.’
What the fuck? Kiss him? Him? Who the hell do you think I am? How am I supposed to live with that afterward? I’m not gay, I…
My hand loosened and dropped lower, still resting on his chest, and it looked like I was giving in and stroking him, even though inside me a storm of panic was raging.
— Ingrid… — Eirik exhaled more quietly, as if sensing the change, and his fingers on my thigh weren’t just holding anymore, but slowly, confidently slid a little higher, through the thick fabric, pressing as if he wasn’t asking anymore, but testing how far he was allowed to go.
I swallowed.
Damn.
Am I really going to have to kiss him?
‘Client, act. Say you’re tired and kiss him on the cheek. A light gesture of affection will reduce the tension. This is a safe option.’
Safe. Fucking. Safe?! Fuck you…
I slowly inhaled, realizing I’d spend the rest of my life trying to forget this moment, and at the same time trying to pull my face into something that would look… appropriate, and, not looking directly into his eyes, quietly muttered:
— I… I’m just tired today, Eirik… really… — my voice came out soft, a little unsteady, and fuck, it sounded so natural for this Ingrid that it made me shudder at myself. — It’s been a hard day…
He was watching me closely, almost greedily, like he was catching every movement.
— But… — I added, forcing out the next step with effort, feeling everything inside resist, — I… don’t think that you…
Damn.
‘Act.’
— …that I don’t like you, — I finished and, before my brain could completely spiral into panic, leaned forward, about to quickly, as neutrally as possible, touch his cheek with my lips, just to get him off me, when suddenly…
His lips covered mine, and his hot, insistent tongue pushed into my mouth.
The kiss was nothing like light or “goodbye.” Eirik instantly wrapped a strong hand around the back of my head, pulling me closer, like he was afraid I’d break away. His lips were greedy, wet, tasting of ale and hearth smoke.
And I froze, feeling how his tongue greedily explored every inch of my mouth, while the hand on my head tightened, fixing me in place, not letting me pull away or even properly breathe.
‘Client… brbabv… try to… bbvba… surge…’
I heard them and didn’t hear them at the same time, because my consciousness felt like it was shutting down.
This. This is fucking… this is my damn first kiss!
What the fuck is this! And why did I hug him back, feeling some strange warmth spreading through my body from the fact that these huge heavy tits pressed against his body, flattened between us.
The kiss went on. Long. His tongue moved confidently, almost gently, but with such male hunger that everything in my head blurred. I involuntarily and clumsily responded for some reason, not fully aware of what I was doing. My lips parted wider, and I let out a quiet whimper into his mouth when his hand moved from the back of my head lower and firmly wrapped around my waist, pulling me even closer.
— Mmm… my sweet girl, maybe we still go to the barn… — Eirik whispered, barely pulling away to breathe. His lips were wet, his eyes darkened with desire. — You’re so sweet today… all trembling like a leaf in the wind.
I tried to say something, but only a quiet, trembling breath escaped my throat. My large breasts swayed again between us, and I felt them softly rub against his body with every breath. My nipples ached. Between my legs there pulsed an unfamiliar, thick wetness, and that feeling scared me the most — because it felt good.
In my head the operator was almost shouting already, but the voice kept breaking with static:
‘Client… urgent… host body… attempting… stabilize… don’t let him…’
Eirik didn’t let me finish the thought. He caught my lips again — deeper now, more insistent. One of his hands stayed on my waist, while the other slowly but confidently rose and settled right on my breast. A large palm covered the soft, heavy flesh, squeezed it slightly, and I involuntarily arched, pressing closer to him. Through the dress and shirt I felt his thumb brush over my nipple, squeezing it.
I gasped, and at that moment the voice in my head from the operators finally disappeared, and I suddenly clearly realized that I would remember this year for the rest of my life, not even suspecting then how right I was — because due to an error I would be stuck as Ingrid for the rest of my life.