Captured by the Berserkers: A menage shifter romance (Berserker Brides Book 2)
Page 7
The longer I lay, the more the slow, inexorable ache built in my breasts and between my legs. I could smell my musky arousal, but I no longer felt embarrassed. The warriors had stolen me from my home and insisted on keeping me. Let them suffer.
A part of me wished they hadn’t sworn the oath. It would be so easy to roll either to the left or the right and tuck my arm around a broad shoulder. My lips would find theirs, delighting in the rasp of their short beards on my tender skin. They were large and heavy with muscle. I longed for the weight on top of my small form, pinning me down, grounding me, their touch both satisfying and driving me wild.
A gasp escaped my lips, unbidden. I clenched my fists, fighting not to touch between my legs. In the shed, I used to lock myself up so I could not reach my nethers. In the morning, Sage would release me, and I’d hidden the red marks on my wrists and ankles under a long-sleeved gown.
The abbey was so distant, many leagues away. My time there seemed almost a dream, and this moment, lying between two warriors, so real. I heard every breath, felt every sigh as a tremor through my own body. My senses heightened as they’d never been. The heat denied by the events of last night descended, tenfold.
When I could resist no longer, I rose and snuck away. Without glancing back to make sure the warriors were still sleeping, I climbed over the wall and dropped onto the soft green turf below. Let them wake and hunt me, if they must. I had to at least try to find privacy, and I had an idea.
Halfway to my destination, I sensed movement behind me. The warriors followed. They made no sound. Did they think I was caught in a trance, lulled by the moon? Perhaps I was.
I ignored their giant creeping shadows. Let them come. Let them watch. Let them want.
Shucking off my shift as I went, I stepped onto the shore of the lake. I’d learned to swim at the abbey, in the little pond full of mud and croaking frogs. The frogs didn’t bother me as I reveled in the warm water, and the other girls stayed away.
Tonight, the water drew me, the lake a black scrying bowl reflecting the silver moon. I walked so far into the water it lapped at my waist.
“Willow,” the warriors called. I stopped and waited until the ripples died away.
The water wrapped my heated body with cold drawn from the deep. The moon limned a path from me to the shore where the warriors stood. I trembled. I was an impure vessel. If I raised my arms, would the moonlight wash me clean?
The friar spoke against the religions of old, the rites of spring. A priestess would lie with a man, the warrior wearing the horns of antler, the goddess and god come together in unholy union. The friar told us this is wrong. But my thoughts returned to it again and again. I felt a deep ache in my loins, a readiness. I desired an evil, cursed ritual. What did that say about me?
“Willow, what are you doing?”
“Fighting the curse,” I called across the water. My teeth chattered.
“Must you fight?”
“I must. I wish it were not like this.”
“Willow.” Brokk squatted on the shore. “Come to me.”
“No.” My plea broke from my lips even as my feet obeyed the warrior’s order. No matter how brutish and awful he seemed, I couldn’t resist his commands. “Please let me hide. I will lose control.” I almost wept.
“No, little one. You must give in. Give yourself to us. Obey, and we will keep you safe.” My tears had dried by the time I reached him. The water parted away from my naked flesh, revealing every inch. Leif still stood in the shadows. He sucked in a breath, but Brokk did not blink.
“How long have you suffered from this heat?”
“Ever since I became a woman, but it has become worse. I cannot hold back. I cannot—”
He hushed me, rising.
I realized I was shivering, not so impervious to the night chill as I’d thought. Brokk stripped off his jerkin and put it on me. It smelled of his manly musk and still held the warmth of his body. The scent would drive me mad.
“I don’t know what to do,” I choked out. “I cannot control it. The Corpse King will find me…”
“Willow, do you wish us to help you? Will you do as we command?”
“Yes. Anything, just help me.”
“You must obey. This is important.” His expression was strained. “You must not fight us,” he rasped. “It entices the beast, and our control is already thin. Promise me.”
“I promise.”
“And you will not hide from us. We will know every thought, every fear, so we can care for you. Do you agree?”
“Yes. Please, I’m so afraid—”
“Hush,” he said and wrapped his arms around me.
“Let’s get her to the fire.” Leif hung back, and, for once, he seemed as sober as Brokk.
Brokk carried me to the keep. He bid me sit on a pelt-draped stone near the fire. Leif kept the blaze high. He left several times and returned with more kindling. Brokk stayed close, chafing my hands and braiding back my hair.
“Tell me what happens.” Brokk glanced at the moon, still high on her celestial throne. “We need to know what to expect.”
“I ache.” I touched my chest. “Through and through. My body grows hot. I need to find some way to cool it.”
“Your scent grows enticing,” Leif muttered.
Brokk waved a hand to silence his friend. “What else, Willow?”
“My breasts, my loins…everything aches with longing. I want what I should not want.”
“Why do you resist?”
I shook my head. “It is not right. I must not let it control me. And yet...there are things I want.”
The warriors exchanged glances.
I grew frantic. “You must not touch me. You must not.”
Brokk held up a hand and I fell silent. “I give you my word, Willow. We will not touch you. Not this night, even if you beg for it.”
“Thank you.” I relaxed.
“Now”—he settled back a few feet from where I sat—“part your legs.”
I froze.
“Do as I say, and I will keep you safe, even from yourself.”
My heartbeat picked up, but I could not refuse him. His jerkin came to mid-thigh, but when I parted my legs, it drew up higher. They could see my wet center. My shame. I let out a little sob.
“Touch yourself.”
“What?”
“Put your hand between your legs, as you long to do.” He cocked his head to the side. “Have you never touched yourself?”
“No,” I whispered. To do so was forbidden. When the friar found girls touching themselves, he locked them away. Sage and I avoided punishment because we hid.
“Do it now, Willow,” Brokk ordered. “Your captors command it.”
With a half-hitched breath, I hovered my hand over my throbbing center, but I could not touch it.
“This is wrong.” A whine broke from my lips.
“Easy, lass. Start higher. Touch your face,” Leif said. “Just a finger. Run it over your lips. Are they soft?”
“Yes.”
“Now lower.” Brokk’s voice deepened. “Trail it down your neck, above your breasts. Now in between. Do you want to touch your nipples?”
“Yes.”
“You may not. You do not have permission.”
I whimpered. The stern tone in his voice made fluid gush from my cunny. My breasts throbbed, longing for attention. “You will not touch your breasts unless by our command. Soon, you will beg us to fondle them.” As he spoke, my nipples grew tight.
I let out a whimper.
“You will obey, or you will be punished,” Brokk said. “Now, slide your hand lower, over your belly. Between your legs. And…stop. What do you feel?”
“Wet,” I answered. “Heat.”
“What you are touching now belongs to us.” Brokk’s voice deepened to a growl. “At the abbey, you bound yourself with shackles. Now, you will obey us, or we will bind you. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” My heart beat faster. I felt a responding prick
le between my legs.
“Stroke yourself gently,” Leif commanded. “Just the barest touch of your fingers.”
“Now lift them,” Brokk said, “and touch them to your tongue.”
I did as he ordered, trembling. I tasted a little sweet. When I told them this, both the warriors groaned.
“All right, Willow. You’re doing well.” Brokk shifted a little, adjusting his breeches. His brow furrowed with concentration. “Lie on your back.”
I moved as if in a trance and slid down so my bottom rested on the pelt and my head lay on the stone.
“Legs apart,” Brokk rasped, “so we can see you. Rest your hand over your cunny.”
At the slightest pressure, I let out a little sigh.
“You will not do this unless ordered, do you understand?” Brokk’s stern tone sent tingles up and down my body.
“Yes,” I breathed. I should feel frightened, carrying out this forbidden act, but I felt nothing but excitement. His orders made me strong.
“Set your legs apart,” Brokk ordered. “Wider.”
I did as he bid and let my hand trace the outline of my nether lips.
“Hold yourself open. Show me your wetness.”
I did so and someone—maybe Leif—sucked in a breath.
“Beautiful. Continue to stroke up and down. Use two fingers.”
My lower lips throb at the barest touch.
“I need—”
“Hush. We will give you what you need.”
It was too much—the warriors staring at me, the deep desires of my heart, the pull of the moon. My pleasure came forth in a rush.
“I –” My words broke off with a cry.
My belly and lower back tensed. A great wave hit me, warmth spreading through me, lights flashing behind my eyes. My lower lips fluttered around my fingers, my channel aching with emptiness, longing to be filled.
“Good girl,” Brokk said. He’d seated himself closer. His eyes glowed. I wanted to reach out and touch him, to feel if his skin burned as hot as mine.
“By the end of the night, you will learn to ask permission before you take your pleasure,” Brokk told me. “Otherwise, you will be punished.”
In a haze, I nodded.
“Good.” He cleared his throat. “Now, touch yourself again.”
BROKK
“She likes you,” Leif said.
“She does not.” I leaned against the wall, watching Willow sleep. We had ordered her to climax over and over, watching her hands on the petals of her sex. We’d exhausted her.
After she fell asleep, both of us had walked to the edge of the wall and found our own release, gasping as we painted the stones with our seed.
“She trusts you, then,” Leif said. “She obeys your orders.”
“She grew up with strict rules. Some shackles are in the mind.”
“We must break them, then, and soon. At any moment, the Corpse King’s spies might find us, but we must bond with her before we return. Claim her before we present her to the pack.” Leif frowned.
“You are so sure she is ours? Maybe she is meant for another.” My heart hoped otherwise, of course, but it had betrayed me. The last time I’d loved a woman, it had ended in pain.
I’d barely gotten the words out before I slammed against the stone. Leif pushed his face close to mine, his fangs out, his body ready to Change into the beast.
“She is ours,” he snarled, his eyes glowing bright.
“Control,” I snapped. The order came from my mind. It held him rigid until the beast receded and Leif returned. He let me go. I was breathing hard from holding myself back from attack.
“Apologies, brother,” Leif panted. He waited for my tight nod before he walked away.
I sighed. My warrior brother had held out so long, his beast fighting for control. It would not do for him to lose it when we had our mate in our grasp. Leif was ruled by passion, but I’d learned long ago to guard myself from desire. I could not allow myself even the barest feeling, even though the little woman sleeping near me tugged at my heart.
LEIF
Dawn had broken by the time I returned from the hunt.
We still had meat from the last kill, but until we got Willow to accept our claim, we would be glad not to have to leave to fetch food.
The musk of her arousal still hung over the keep, and the memory of her cries… I’d had to take my cock in hand twice since she’d climaxed under the full moon, and still it felt hard as stone.
I dropped the bundle of rabbits onto a stone for cleaning and glanced about.
“Where is she?” I asked Brokk.
“In the lake. I can hear her splashing—she will not go far.”
“You trust her more than I do.”
He gave me a sly look. “If she disobeys she will be punished.”
My cock pulsed in my breeches at that. Brokk acted stern, but I could read the eagerness he tried so hard to suppress. Let him pretend he had no feelings. He wanted the woman as much as I did. He clung to caution, but soon he would not be able to resist Willow’s charms.
I trotted down to the lake and stopped short. The woman stood in the water, a nymph waiting for me. Her dark hair covered her breasts, her eyes were closed, head tipped back. I paced the shore, taking in every angle, but it took me a moment to realize she had her hand between her legs.
“Lass.” My shout rang out and startled the birds on the shore.
She looked up with a start, and her climax took her. She shook, trying to hold it in, but couldn’t help her squeaks of surprise.
I grinned wide. She’d broken a rule. A good thing I’d come across her, or she might not have been caught—her orgasm had been so quiet. One day I would have fun teasing her, telling her to hold back, even as I forced her climax to burst forth. On that day, she would not be able to stifle her cries.
I raised my hand and beckoned.
She came and picked up her shift, her eyes downcast. She did not seem embarrassed at her nudity anymore. A good sign. Our little woman was a wanton, even though she was dismayed by it.
I caught her chin and tilted up. “What did Brokk tell you about taking your own pleasure?”
“He said I should not,” she muttered. I sensed her gathering for a fight. “I am supposed to wait for you.”
“Yes,” I said. “Your pleasure is for your mates to enjoy.”
Her hands curled into fists at her side. I half hoped she take a swing at me. Disciplining her would be sweet.
“I have just discovered how to give myself pleasure,” she said. “You will not take it from me.”
“When Brokk first told you to touch yourself, what did you feel?”
“Shame,” she bit out.
“And what you feel now?” She had snuck away and hid this from us. We could not let her fall back into the pattern she had at the abbey—hiding herself for fear she would not be accepted. Deep down, she wanted to be loved for who she was, lust and all. We would coax her out of her habit of fear and self-denial. “Well? What made you want to leave Brokk and I and touch yourself where you could not be seen?”
“Shame,” she whispered.
“When you’re with us, lass, you should only feel pleasure.” I couldn’t help tracing a drop of water down the slope of her breast. She shivered, and her scent grew needy.
I made her walk naked, clothes in her arms, in front of me back into the keep.
Brokk stood waiting, his arms crossed over his chest. “You tried to hide from us, Willow, when you promised not to.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Go to the wall.” He pointed. “Set your nose against it. Stand there and wait for us to decide your punishment.”
With a resigned glance at me, she did so. He approached her once to set a pelt around her shoulders and tuck her wet hair back so it would not cool her skin.
She rocked from foot to foot until Brokk gave a sharp order. “Be still.”
I sucked in a breath at his harsh tone. But, in the next few minutes, th
e keep filled with the musk of her arousal.
She responds well to your commands.
Brokk grunted. He didn’t smile, but a pleased look hovered in the corner of his mouth. Our woman would learn our rules, and she would thrive in them. When she felt comfortable with us, and embraced her life as a spaewife, we would allow her full freedom. By then, she would beg to remain our captive.
“Where are the leather ties?” he asked me then told me what else he wanted. Once we’d assembled what we needed, he called her back.
“Willow, come to me.” He dropped a pelt at his feet and pointed. “Kneel here.”
When she did, he leaned forward and touched her back until she arched it more then he nudged her knees wider apart until she sat gracefully displayed before him. His expression stayed stern and frightening, but Willow gazed up at him with large trusting eyes, waiting for his next command. My cock throbbed with jealousy.
Once Willow knelt the way he liked, Brokk rewarded her with a soft touch, palming her cheek.
“Soon we will return to the pack. You will accompany us. Wolves live by strict rules. There is an order, a hierarchy that keeps things running smoothly. The weaker always follows the stronger.” His finger followed one lock of dark hair down to where it curled over her breast. “And, right now, who is the weaker here?”
“I am,” she said.
“So, who should you obey?”
“You.” Her gaze darted to me. “And Leif.”
Brokk cupped her chin, drawing her attention. “I know this is new, little one, but we will learn together. For now, these will help you.” He held up the bands of soft leather we had prepared. “Stand up,” he said. “Close your eyes.”
“What—” she started to ask, but he pinched her nipples so hard she gasped and took a step back.
I rose to my feet.
No, Leif. Brokk said without glancing at me.
Willow’s chest rose and fell and her eyes were larger than ever, but she stared at Brokk, entranced.
“You asked us to help you. Will you trust me?”