by Jaid Black
OTAR AWOKE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT to a sight that made him painfully hard: his wife was naked and she was sitting astride him. His penis, once semierect, stood up straight.
Madalyn stared down into his face while her hands massaged his chest. Her large, full breasts dangled over him, close to his face. He reached up and began stroking her nipples, eliciting soft, breathy moans. He could feel her wet entrance pressing against the tip of his cock and it drove him crazed.
“Get on him,” Otar said thickly, his gaze narrowing in lust. “I need to be inside my pussy.”
Memories assaulted him. Mental pictures he’d had through the years of Madalyn wanting him and fervently riding him. Eyes tightly shut and hand pumping his shaft, he’d spilled his seed nigh unto a hundred times with those thoughts.
Now he didn’t have to pretend.
Otar’s teeth gritted as his wife pressed down onto his cock with her pussy. His hands fell from her nipples and latched onto her hips, holding her in place while she seated herself.
“’Twill be all right,” he murmured when her eyes took on a wary look. “You can handle him.”
Her teeth sank into her lower lip as she pressed down further, enveloping him just past the head. Beads of perspiration broke out on Otar’s brow and he drank in the sight of her.
Sitting astride his far darker body, Madalyn’s creamy, ivory complexion was an arousing contrast. Golden-red ringlets cascaded down her back, and firm, pink nipples jutted off her large, full breasts.
’Twas heady to him that she was all his.
It was more than the way she looked. Otar had never seen a more provocative woman. Beauty was but skin deep; provocative went down to the bone.
“I’m almost in, little one,” he rasped out. Gods, he feared coming before he was fully inside her. His muscles tensed as he coaxed her with a patience he was far from feeling. “Take him all the way in.”
Her expression that of a yearning to be one with him, Madalyn sank down onto his cock with a gasp. Otar groaned, unable to keep his fingers from burrowing deeper into her hips.
She was fully impaled. Her nipples stiffened.
She began to move, slowly at first, but steadily picked up the pace. His nostrils flared as she rode him, her soft breasts jiggled over his face.
“You’re so tight, Madalyn,” he rasped out. “Love me faster.”
“Like this?” she whispered in a throaty purr. She slammed her pussy down on his cock, harder and faster. “Do you like it?”
Otar moaned as she rode him, the pace growing faster by the second. Her breasts bounced up and down as her hips gyrated on top of him. “I love it,” he ground out. The sound of her tight, sticky pussy sucking his cock in and out nearly drove him over the edge. “Fuck me harder.”
She bounced up and down on top of him, moaning as she vigorously pumped his rigid shaft with her welcoming flesh. Otar released one of her hips and used his free hand to massage her clit.
“Oh God,” she groaned, riding him faster, pumping him hard.
The sight of her tits so close to his face made him burn to play with them. Otar reveled in watching Madalyn come, though, so he continued to massage her clit with firmer, faster circles.
Her pussy clenched his cock, her inner muscles working him into a frenzy. “Yes,” she gasped, slamming down onto his erection, enveloping him inside of her over and over, again and again. Her flesh sucked in his as the scent of her arousal reached his nostrils. “Otar!” Madalyn rode him hard as she came. Blood rushed to her face, heating it, and to her nipples, further elongating them.
“Keep fucking me,” he growled, his jaw tight. His fingers found her hips again, pinning her to him. “Milk my cock.”
She rode him so violently he couldn’t stop moaning had he wanted to. His mouth latching onto one of her nipples, Otar slammed his erection up into her flesh, burying himself inside of her in deep, rapid strokes.
He didn’t want to come yet, but his body demanded that he do so. Releasing her nipple with a popping sound, his teeth gritted and his jaw clenched as he pounded away inside of her.
“Madalyn!”
Otar came on a roar, his entire body shaking, his toes curling. His breathing heavy, he continued to force her hips down hard onto his cock while she milked him of cum.
“I love you, Madalyn,” he rasped, his voice deep and gravelly. “Thank you for being mine.”
“Otar…”
He groaned as she continued riding him, slowly coming down in gait until she was too fatigued to continue. Exhausted, she collapsed on top of him, a gorgeous heap of golden-red hair spilling to cover his chest.
Otar held his wife close to him, the tempo of her pounding heart matching his. He wished in vain that the night could go on forever. Last eve had been more wondrous than he was capable of putting into words, but this eve was even more memorable.
This eve, Madalyn had come to him.
Chapter
Twenty-eight
The emotional bond that had been forged between Madalyn and Otar last night was undeniable; she would carry the memories with her for a lifetime.
He loved her with a passion she never could have fathomed all those lonely years in Hollywood. It filled a void inside of her and made her feel complete. Madalyn Mae Simon had never been loved by a man before. Wanted, yes, but not loved. There was a world of difference between the two, and one she couldn’t have understood until Otar had stormed into her life.
With a heavy heart, Madalyn watched her husband get dressed. His outfit was similar to the one he worked in every day, but this time he wore a black strap over his chain-mail tunic. The thick leather strap wound around his waist and snaked up over one shoulder. There were dozens of tiny little pockets in it, holding various weapons. Knives, daggers, poisons—if they could be obtained in New Sweden, her husband was armed with them.
In a few short minutes Otar would walk out and she didn’t know when—or if—she’d ever see him again. Compounding her grief was worry for Drake’s safety. Iiro had yet to return to the Underground, and she wanted to know that her baby sister was okay. Times were getting tough. Now, more than ever before, she needed Drake to be close.
Otar’s gaze met hers from across the room, and she tried to camouflage her fear of losing him.
“’Twill be all right,” Otar murmured. He walked over to the bed and sat down on it beside her. “I vow that I will come back to you, Madalyn.”
“You better come back to me alive, Otar Thordsson. Don’t you dare die on me now.”
“I want to be with you forever.” He bent his neck and kissed the top of her head. “Practice your play with Mama and Agata, and try to keep your mind occupied. All will be well.”
They sat together a few minutes more, holding hands and leaning on each other until time ran out. With a sigh, Otar stood. He brushed a lock of her hair behind one ear and winked. “Stay out of trouble, wench.”
Tears welled up in her eyes. Madalyn forced a smile. “I’d tell you the same, but…”
“’Twill be all right.” He embraced her, his arms strong and protective. “Always remember that I love you.”
Tell him you love him, Madalyn. Say the words!
Her pulse raced. She did love him. It had taken his imminent departure to admit what she already knew deep down inside, and it was time to tell him how she felt.
“Otar—”
The adjoining door flew open and Annikki and Agata entered their hut. Madalyn sighed.
“We’ve come to say good-bye, son,” Annikki said, tears in her eyes. Madalyn blinked away tears of her own as she watched her husband embrace his mother. “I love you, Otar,” she gasped. “Be safe and come home to us soon.”
“I will,” he said quietly, hugging her tightly. “I vow it.”
After Annikki, it was Agata’s turn. As Otar looked into his sister’s eyes, it was easy to see the bond the twins shared. They had a history together.
“Be safe, you big brute,” Agata halfheartedly teased.
&n
bsp; The far-off sound of gunfire caused the women to gasp. The Revolution had begun, even earlier than they had expected it would.
“I must go!” Otar swiftly picked up a few more weapons and headed toward the door. “Something must be wrong. ’Tis not when we planned to strike.”
“Did you hear the gunfire?” Vardo bellowed, crashing into the hut. “Let us be gone, Otar!”
The men left with long, determined strides. Madalyn ran to the door to watch Otar walk away, her throat locked up with emotion. Otar turned around and walked backward, maybe to catch one last glimpse of her before she was totally out of his sight.
Her heart pumping like mad, her breasts heaving up and down, she watched him smile at her from the distance between them. The look in his eyes told her everything she needed to know: he loved her. Just as he had promised, he would always love her.
When she had first been captured, Otar had told Madalyn that time changes everything. She had cried for her old life, not believing him.
I’m not so bad as that, little one. In time, you will grow to love me.
“You were right,” Madalyn whispered as she watched him disappear from view. “I love you, Otar.”
He was gone, not even a speck in the distance now.
She should have told her husband that she loved him. If he died without knowing her true feelings, she would never forgive herself.
Chapter
Twenty-nine
Hell broke loose in New Sweden less than ten minutes after Otar left. Gunfire was everywhere, screams pierced the air, making Madalyn wonder how those above the ground couldn’t hear what had burst below it. It sounded like Armageddon.
Frightened, the women huddled together. “We shouldn’t fret like this,” Annikki said stoutly. “Otar would not have left us here unless he knew beforehand that Shanty Row was secured.”
That was true. Still, Madalyn was worried. Not so much for herself as for him. “This just sucks. I’ve never felt so wretched in my entire life. Considering everything I’ve gone through in the past eleven days, that’s saying a lot!
“I understand.”
“Captured. Escaped. Recaptured,” she muttered. “Brought to a civilization I didn’t know existed—”
“’Twill be all right,” Agata interrupted, patting her hand. But Madalyn was in no mood to be soothed and coddled. She was getting herself worked up and there was no stopping her now. “The next thing I know, I’m married against my will. Then I’m forced to dress like a raging slut. As if all this wasn’t enough, my damned husband makes me fall in love with him, only to leave me and possibly die in a war!” She raised a hand to her temples, a headache coming on. “And now people are shooting guns and God knows what else!”
“You love him?” Annikki asked in delight.
“That isn’t the point! And I’m not finished bitching! I need a drink,” she said dramatically. “A big, tall, fruity piña colada with an extra maraschino cherry. No, two extra maraschino cherries.” It was time to pull out the big guns.
“She loves him,” Agata said, smiling widely.
Madalyn rolled her eyes. “You two are saps, do you know that? The very definition of irritatingly sentimental.”
Annikki smiled. “And yet you love my son.”
She sighed, the fight going out of her. Her shoulders slumped, emotional exhaustion taking its toll. “Yes,” she whispered. “I do.”
It would be a lot easier if she didn’t care, but that wasn’t how the cards fell. “What on earth do we do?” She looked at Annikki and Agata. “What if he dies?”
“He will live,” Annikki insisted. “Otar is strong and capable. He will not die.”
“Mama is correct,” Agata added. “Before you came into his life, my brother had naught to live for. Now he has every reason to survive.” Her gaze gentled. “I cannot thank you enough for that precious gift.”
Madalyn smiled through teary eyes. “You are making me a sap, too,” she teased. “In fact—”
Baaaa. Baaaaaaa. Baaaaaa. Baaaa. Baaaaaaa. Baaaaaa.
Madalyn’s ears perked up and her shoulders straightened. She recognized those baas. She could pick them out of a goat lineup anytime, anywhere. But how on earth did Victoria and Thor ever find their way to her?
“Would you two shut the hell up?” a female voice bellowed. “The gunfire around here is noisy enough without your constant baaing!”
Madalyn grinned: Drake! She shot up from her chair at the table and ran to the front door. “My sister!” she shouted over her shoulder. “It has to be!”
Throwing open the door, almost wept with relief: Drake was alive!
“He caught me, Maddie Mae,” Drake said, stating the obvious as she tugged on the goats’ leads. “I fought the good fight, but Drake Simon, survivalist, was defeated by Iiro Skevali, Alien Butthead.”
“Don’t call me Maddie Mae!” Madalyn laughed. “Now come here and hug me already!”
Drake’s smile kicked up. Madalyn squealed as Drake ran toward her. They kissed and embraced, Annikki and Agata watching and smiling from the sidelines.
“He dressed you in pink,” Madalyn snorted, whirling her sister around so she could get a good look at her sheer outfit.
“We arm-wrestled and I lost,” Drake explained in an irritated tone. “What’s worse, I think the son of a bitch torched my khakis.”
Madalyn whistled through her teeth. The old Drake never would have let a slight like that go unpunished.
“Don’t worry,” Drake said with a smile. “He’ll pay for that one. Ohhhh, will he ever pay.”
Madalyn laughed and then introduced her sister to her in-laws. Once Drake was satisfied they both qualified as humans and not aliens, she followed the women into the hut.
“I found something while I was out there,” Drake said under her breath to Madalyn. “As soon as we’re alone, I need to tell you about it.”
That sounded very serious. “Okay. You don’t have to wait, though, unless you insist. Annikki and Agata are good people. I trust them and you can, too.”
“WOW.” Finished reading the pages her sister had swiped from the lab, Madalyn blew out a breath. “Simply amazing.”
“I do not understand why your people wish to control the gender of babes born to them.” Agata’s expression was confused. “All babes, male or female, are treasures to love.”
“Not in our world, sweetheart.” Drake’s frown was grim. “Where we come from, boys are more important.”
Silence. The sentence hung in the air, all of them thinking the same thing.
Madalyn nibbled on her lower lip. There was simply no way that the old Viking prophesies held any truth to them. It was just a bizarre coincidence.
Her elbows on the table, Drake plopped her chin in her hands and sighed. “It’s hard to accept, but these head-under-the-hills alarmists were right.”
Madalyn’s eyebrows shot up. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black.
“I didn’t want to admit it, but good grief.” Drake shook her head, then switched subjects so fast it made Madalyn blink. “Can I have another tart, please?”
“Of course we were right,” Annikki said proudly. “The gods of Valhalla are infinite in their wisdom.” She held up a ceramic plate. “Have as many tarts as you desire, dearest.”
“Thanks,” Drake mumbled around a big bite. “These things rock.”
Madalyn sighed and shook her head whimsically. Whether at CACW headquarters or in the heart of Shanty Row, Drake wasn’t liable to ever change. For that she would be eternally grateful. It provided Madalyn with the requisite amount of normalcy from her previous life to feel semi-secure while carving out a new existence in Lokitown.
“I told you Big Brother would be the downfall of America,” Drake said to Madalyn. “Hear ye, all doubting Thomases worldwide: Big Brother has a name and it is Dr. Erin Gallo.”
“Wouldn’t that make her Big Sister?” Agata asked.
Drake thought that one over for a moment before nodding her agreement
. “You couldn’t pay me to live above the ground now. I’ll take my chances with Alien Butthead, thank you just the same.”
Madalyn snorted. If her sister didn’t care about Iiro, she wouldn’t stay with him. Drake wasn’t afraid of anything.
The conversation turned, and Madalyn’s thoughts strayed back to Otar. He was out there somewhere, possibly injured, with no way to let her know. She forced the chilling thought away.
Annikki and Agata believed she had given her husband a reason to live; all she could do was hope they were right.
Chapter
Thirty
All-out war had engulfed the colony for two weeks, with no word as to her husband’s whereabouts. The only thing Madalyn, Drake, Annikki, and Agata could do was hide in the huts. Shanty Row, as undesirable as it was to all others, had become one of Lokitown’s few safe havens—at least for rebel sympathizers.
The owner of the seedy alehouse—a Toki loyalist—had been run out of the sector. Madalyn was thrilled to see the perverted opportunist ousted. Unfortunately, his eviction cost the majority of women on Shanty Row their jobs, leaving several families even worse off than they’d been.
Coins were becoming scarce for the Thordsson women, too, so food stockpiles were depleting at a rapid rate. Every time a hungry Row resident came knocking, none of the women had the heart to turn them away. Another week, maybe ten days at most, and the Thordssons wouldn’t be able to feed anyone, because they wouldn’t have anything to hand out.
Gathered around the table, the group of four tried to figure out a way to make some fast cash. With possessions being at minimum, there wasn’t anything to barter with. That meant they needed cash currency.
“Mayhap we could sell some of our clothes and wear naught but rags,” Annikki suggested.
Drake frowned. “Clothes can get worse than these ones? I think I’d rather starve to death.”
“Me, too.” Madalyn waved a hand around the table, indicating that everyone should assess their own garments. All four of them were clad in barely-there sheer dresses. Agata and Drake wore yellow today, Madalyn and Annikki blue. “None of us own more than three dresses apiece. I don’t think we can afford to sell what little we’ve got.”
