Enslaved by a Viking
Page 17
Eirik unsnapped the chin strap and lifted off the visored helmet, making the room instantly brighter. He shook his head, then raked a hand through his hair, finding it matted with sweat.
A gasp sounded behind the cat-man, but he didn’t turn toward it, and instead held that green gaze as he was assessed, judged.
“You’re a Norseman,” the cat-man said, his tone dead even. “One of the twenty.”
Eirik pushed out his chest and nodded. “I am.”
The cat’s gaze slid to the driver. “You did well, Leo, bringing him here.”
“Thanks, Adem, but I’d best hurry back. I tapped out of the system to come here, but if I’m much longer . . .”
“Don’t risk scrutiny. We wouldn’t want you tracked back here. You’re free to go.”
The driver gave Eirik a quick grin, then hurried out of the room.
“It’s interesting,” Adem drawled. “A Viking strides through my front door, and his captor sneaks down from the roof.” With a lightning move, he reached behind him and dragged a figure forward.
When the woman tossed back her messy hair, Eirik stared into Fatin’s mutinous eyes. Her hands were restrained behind her back, and another figure, a tall, muscular man, was pushed into the light. This one a Helio by his dark features.
Adem’s unblinking stare homed on Eirik. “The question is whether you and the bounty hunter work together or she followed you.”
Before Eirik could decide which answer the cat-man was fishing for, Fatin stepped between them.
Her gaze raked Eirik, dropped to the helmet he still held, then quickly fixed on Adem. “I didn’t know he’d broken out,” she said huskily. “I was trying to get inside here to talk to you about him.”
Adem reached out a hand, combed his long, thick fingers through Fatin’s hair, and pulled to tilt back her head.
Eirik’s body tensed, not liking Adem’s roughness or the charged glances the couple exchanged. A hint of vulnerability surfaced in Fatin’s pleading gaze as she stared back at the cat-man.
“You came to me,” Adem purred, “and yet you know I’ve lost patience with you, little bird.”
Fatin’s face tightened, her eyes flicking to the side.
“That’s right, you don’t like that endearment. And since I no longer find you endearing, I should give you another.” He jerked his hand, pulling hard on her hair. “How about ‘traitor’?” he asked, his voice deepening to a growl.
Eirik’s free hand fisted and he took a step forward, but one of the black-suited men stepped in the way.
Fatin’s eyes filled, but she lifted her chin in defiance. “I did not intend to betray.”
“And yet you accepted PG’s contract to steal breed-worthy specimens for their purposes.”
Eirik bristled at being called a specimen, but kept silent, because he was curious now how she would respond. It was apparent from the way the two stood so close, their bodies straining apart, that they shared an intimate past, which he found shocking given the fact the male wasn’t fully a man.
“I came to you first for help,” Fatin said, her voice ragged.
“And I said I would give it.”
Her face screwed up into a tearful grimace. “You took too long. Four years I waited.”
“And you think that starting a revolution is something that can be accomplished in the short term?”
“I can’t think about your revolution,” she replied, her voice thick with tears. “My sister pines inside her prison. I saw her, Adem. She’s losing hope.”
“Do you believe that I don’t think about her? But I can’t throw away this chance. We’re gaining followers, helpers, inside the compound every day. You should have trusted me.”
“I trust no one,” she said, her voice filled with emotion, and then her gaze slid to Eirik.
He swept his expression clean of all emotion, refusing the plea in her moist eyes.
Adem’s glance cut between them, then narrowed. He released his hold on Fatin’s hair and turned to the Helio who’d been captured with Fatin. “Bring him.” He walked to a cabinet and brought out a box from which he plucked a device. He tapped a button, then held out the device. On the top of the box, the outline of a hand glowed.
The Helio’s hand was forced forward, then held down against the device. Light illuminated the edges of his palm and between his fingers, then blinked out. A beep sounded.
Adem turned over the device and read from a screen. “This gets better. This man’s a crew member from the Proteus whose current mission is to transport cargo from the surface of New Iceland to off-load onto cargo ships.” He gave the Helio a narrowed glance. “You, my friend, are a long way from New Iceland. And you’re far more interesting to me than these two at the moment,” he said, pointing toward Fatin and Eirik. He turned his head toward one of the black-suited guards. “Put them in my quarters. Men at the door. I don’t want them wandering away until I’m through with this one.”
“He might harm her,” the Helio blurted, aiming a glare at Eirik.
Adem’s lips curved. “And I should care?”
Eirik was shoved from behind, forced to lead the men filing out of the room. Behind him he could hear Fatin’s fierce mutters as she cursed Adem and men in general.
They were herded to a small room with a single mattress and a desk. As plain and humble as a soldier’s barracks. Shoved inside, he turned in time to see Fatin pushed through the door, her hands still behind her back.
As the door slammed shut to close them inside, the corners of his mouth rose.
Fatin aimed a deadly glare his way. “Whatever you’re thinking. Just un-think it.”
Eirik slouched against the wall. “And what am I thinking?” He doubted she had a clue that anger did amazing things for her appeal. Her spread-legged stance drew his glance to the juncture of her thighs.
“You’re thinking that you’ve just been given permission to have your revenge on me.”
Revenge wasn’t foremost on his mind. Her squared shoulders and the jut of her chest brought to prominence her budding nipples. “Why do so many people mean you harm?”
“My effervescent personality?” Her face screwed up as she fought the restraints. Her cheeks grew red.
He knew she didn’t want to ask him for help. That he was the last person she wanted help from. He sat on the bed with his back against the wall and pulled up a knee to watch as she grew redder.
“Eirik!”
“What, sweet Fatin?”
“Don’t call me that.”
“It’s your name.”
“The sweet part. You only ever say it when you’re ready to take a piece out of me.”
His blood heated. “Oh, I want pieces,” he murmured, letting his gaze trail down her body.
Her eyebrows lowered over a scalding glare.
For the first time since he’d climbed out the window at the brothel, tension faded. A smile twitched at his mouth. The bottom of her trousers and her face were coated with dust, her hair scraggly and escaping her braid.
As disheveled as she was, she shouldn’t have been attractive to him, but he could smell her too. Her spicy scent was heightened by her struggles, so unique, so completely her.
His body reacted on a primal level, recognizing the rightness of her aroma, triggering his body to mate. More animal than man himself at this moment, he embraced his arousal rather than bother to deny it. His heartbeats strengthened, beating against his chest in a steadily building tattoo. His thighs tightened; his loins heated, blood rushing to fill his cock, which thickened and stretched against his leg.
Fatin gave up struggling and stomped a foot. Her gaze didn’t meet his.
But he knew she fought her pride to ask for his help. “Fatin, elskling, do you want me to untie you?” he asked, keeping his voice even and cheerful.
She rolled her eyes and blew at a strand of hair that squiggled across her forehead. “I could do this myself, but it’d be faster . . .”
Liar. He didn’t min
d that she lied. And very likely about most things. The habit only made it more of a challenge to discover the truth about her. “Come to me.”
She stomped toward him, then turned her back, presenting her hands, which were bound by a rough rope. The fibers were digging into her wrists, which still showed vague traces of bruising. “You shouldn’t have fought the ropes. You’re hurting yourself.”
“Just untie me.”
With a lazy caress, he cupped her hips and centered her in front of him. Then, instead of reaching for the knot, he glided his hands around to her waist and opened her trousers.
Her body tensed. “Eirik? What are you doing?”
“What calls to me,” he said, smoothing her trousers down her hips.
“My ass calls to you?”
“I can smell your arousal, elskling.” He leaned toward her and kissed the tops of her buttocks, which were nearly clear of the marks he’d given her when he’d spanked her.
“Just means I need a shower.”
“A cold one?” Two fingers rode the divide down her buttocks, glancing by her tiny furled hole, then tucked between her legs to glide into moist, slick heat.
Her pussy contracted, squeezing around his digits. “Won’t you be embarrassed when the guards come for you?” she said, her voice tight.
“I’ve fucked a dozen women in full view of a hundred Helio women and nineteen Vikings. A couple of guards won’t cool my ardor.” Tipping up her bound hands, he forced her to bend at the waist, admiring the pretty peach-shaped buttocks. Her nude pussy was coated with a thin gloss of her desire.
“Eirik!”
“Yes, sweet Fatin?”
“This hurts.”
Humor vanished. He slowly drew her arms down and untied her wrists. With her pants still around her upper thighs, she lifted her arms one at a time and rolled her shoulders to ease the ache.
When she dropped them, she glanced behind her, eyes flashing.
His breath hitched. Blood thrummed.
Her gaze was steady, her face flushed. Her teeth pulled at her bottom lip, as though unsure what course she should take.
Eirik took the decision from her, grasping her hips again and turning her, bringing her closer. “Raise your arms,” he said, his voice gruff.
She did so, and he dragged her shirt over her head and tossed it away. “Give me a boot,” he said, patting his thigh.
She backed up and placed the toe there, then grabbed his shoulders for balance because he tugged it off and dropped it.
Fatin didn’t wait to be told to do it again.
When he shoved her pants down her legs, she bent to the side to assist, pulling them over her small feet, and then straightening in front of him. “If you want to see me humiliated, you can stop right there. The marks on my body are faded. All will know that I was willing, here and now.”
Eirik’s response was to pull off his own shirt and work his pants off his hips. He couldn’t stop now, not even if he wanted to.
Fatin gave him a faint smile and backed away to pull off his boots and trousers. When he was nude, her gaze dropped to his cock, which stood perpendicular from his groin, proof he was every bit as aroused as she was.
Smiling wider, she climbed over his hips, facing him, her knees snuggled beside his thighs, her slit riding the length of his cock. “Seems we’ve been here before, Viking.”
“We have.” His voice grew husky. “In another place, another life.”
A swallow worked her throat. “Feels like forever since that afternoon.”
“I never meant insult when I said I’d see you compensated.”
She shook her head and pressed a finger over his mouth. “You didn’t think.”
Eirik kissed her finger away. “I never did, before. About where the women came from. How they came to that life. Will you tell me now how it happened to you?”
Fatin’s eyes, always so expressive whether snapping with challenge or wide with apprehension, were soft now, and filling. “Our mother died,” she said, a trembling edge to her voice. “We should have been taken to foster, but because of my sister’s appearance, we were told we’d be separated. I couldn’t let that happen. Instead, we ran with only the clothes on our backs.”
Her hands settled on his shoulders and began to knead. Her gaze grew unfocused as her thoughts turned inward.
“We scavenged—in trash bins—and when we couldn’t find enough food, we stole. Some shop owners and cooks took pity and gave us things to eat and wear. We were both in our teens, old enough by law . . .” Her face dropped.
And he let her hide, because he wasn’t sure he could keep his own emotions from scrawling across his face. Her life had been so different from his.
Sure, he hadn’t been raised in comfort, but that had been by choice. Wolfskin males weren’t coddled. They fought and trained, braved the elements in fur and wool as opposed to modern coldweather gear because they sought to harden their bodies and their minds.
He waited patiently for her to continue. And at last she lifted her chin, firming it, while tears filled her eyes.
“One day we were caught stealing and taken into court. Because we were indigent—and pretty—we were sold at auction.”
“Aliyah?” Involuntarily, his grip tightened.
“Yes, she bought our papers.” She let out a ragged breath. “So now you know. I come from nothing, Eirik. I’ve been a thief and a whore.”
He didn’t comment on that last bit. “What of your father?”
“Not of this world.” Fatin lifted her face, eyes haunted but lovely. “Eirik, Zarah and I are full sisters. Our father was avisian. Our mother human.”
His heart stopped for a beat, then thundered hard against his chest. Understanding at last some of what drove her. “You’re also a Falcon?”
Her smile was sad. She gave a weak shrug. “Luckier than Zarah because I don’t have wings. But I carry the same genes. I’m not breed-worthy. Not marriageable.” Her head shook. “I will never have any family other than my sister.”
Eirik’s jaw tightened. The brittle armor she wore around her heart had a purpose. She’d likely suffered slurs all her life, and she truly believed she’d always be alone.
Not knowing what to say, or really how he felt, he gently cupped her chin and pulled her face closer.
When his mouth touched hers, she gave a mournful sob but molded her lips against his, offering him a sweet, soft kiss that tore away another piece of the jagged anger he had harbored against her.
Whatever their future, Eirik had to believe there was a reason they’d come together, a reason he’d been placed in her path—a test offered by the gods. Only a deity with a higher purpose would have thought to mate a Wolf with a Falcon.
Fourteen
When Eirik threaded his fingers into her hair and pulled, Fatin gave a deep, anguished moan. Sex had never been about anything other than survival. Before the Icelander.
Sure, she’d sometimes found her pleasure with a man, but she’d sought it only because she’d wanted a taste of what was normal between men and women. To dream about a lover who would have a care about her body and her passion. Who might want more from her than just his own physical release.
Being with Eirik was like drinking from a naiad’s well. Both beautiful and frightening. Beautiful because of the glimpses of true tenderness he gave her; frightening because she knew this couldn’t last.
He cupped her head, holding her still while he deepened the kiss. His tongue swept into her mouth to lap at hers.
Wild, urgent heat filled her. With a flex, she rose on her knees and reached down to guide his cock inside her.
With the tip poised at her entrance, he broke the kiss and clutched her hips, halting her before she could take him inside. “Not so fast,” he rasped, turning his head to nuzzle her cheek while he breathed deep, ragged breaths.
Panting already, their mouths so close they shared breaths, she shook with need. “Bastard,” she whispered, but without any true anger.
“Eirik!” she said, reminding him he held her above him.
He gave a short, harsh bark of laughter, then shook his head and looked up into her eyes. “Let me do this right.”
Her eyelids drooped. “There’s a wrong way?”
He shifted her to his side, laid her on the mattress, then came over her, taking his weight on his elbows. Again, his glance raked down her body.
Uneasy with his perusal, she gave him a frown. “Why are you staring at me?”
“Because you’re lovely.”
She swatted his shoulder. “Stop it.”
His face came up, features tinged red and blurred with passion. “Stop what?”
“Confusing me.”
Eirik’s features tightened. “When this is done . . . When we’ve rescued your sister and my men are free, we will take time with each other.”
“So that you wreak revenge on me slowly?”
“Elskling, I’m not thinking of revenge right now. I might skip that altogether. If you don’t betray me again, we can start fresh.”
Her lips twisted, and she huffed out a breath. “A new start. What will we do differently? Will you capture me?”
“Perhaps.” His gaze studied her face, then dropped to her shoulders, her chest.
“Are you thinking that you can find the falcon in me if you look hard enough?” she asked, her voice rising.
“You’ve said there are no outward signs. Zarah’s shoulders have a fine down covering them.” He kissed her shoulder, slicked his tongue along the crest. “But your skin is as smooth as any human’s.”
Lord, why couldn’t he let go of the fact she wasn’t pure human. Now he’d only search for the animal inside her. “Sometimes it’s like that. A recessive gene or some such. I don’t understand it all. I only know my sister wears her curse for the world to gawk at.”
Eirik bit into the tender skin at the base of her neck. “Your sister is beautiful. Like a goddess.”