Dark Warrior (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Julie Shelton

  Rolf lifted his hands to frame her face, tilting her head up so he could look into her eyes. “Many times I have dreamed of this.” His voice was a stark whisper. “Of thee. Of the two of us touching thee. Loving thee.”

  Kathryn was fighting for every breath. The world suddenly seemed to have run out of air. She looked up at Rolf through half-lidded eyes. Her vagina was clenching so hard she thought she’d come on the spot. With a tiny sigh, she reached her hand between their bodies to cover Rolf’s erection. It jerked and throbbed beneath her questing fingers.

  “Ah–h! Ah–h–h!” Rolf shuddered and jerked, his eyes closing in open-mouthed, tight-faced ecstasy.

  She looked up at him through her lashes. “Is this for me?” she asked with a sly smile.

  “Almighty Odin!” Rolf breathed raggedly. His eyes were still closed. His voice was deep and tight with the lust raging through his system. He sucked in his breath, let it out slowly, struggling for control. “Uh, Nick?” His voice was low, rough, nearly a growl.

  “Aye?” Nicholas eyed him with fond amusement.

  “Uh…” His voice was shaking. “When, exactly, wert thou thinking we would start this?”

  “Soon.”

  “How soon? Because if it isn’t this very second I’m going to have to leave before I disgrace myself and spend right here in my braes.”

  “She has the same effect on me,” Nicholas commiserated, chuckling softly. Sporting a hefty erection of his own, he walked over to put his arms around both of them. She leaned her head back against his bicep, lifting her face toward his. He bent to drop a fierce kiss on her sweet mouth, swallowing the moan that tumbled from her throat. “As to when we’re going to start this? How does right now suit you?” He put his finger over his lips and cocked his head, as if considering. “Aye,” he nodded, “I think right now is the perfect time.”

  Kathryn’s breath died in her throat. She was trembling, her body going hot, cold, then hot so rapidly she thought she would faint. She was standing between them, clad only in her silk chemise. Shivers were racing up and down her spine. Her skin was on fire, covered in goose bumps that had naught to do with being cold. Both men working together gathered the fragile silk of her chemise in their huge hands and lifted the garment up over her head and off her body.

  They stared at her, their hot eyes raking over her breasts, her belly, and the golden triangle of hair between her thighs. A hot flush stained her skin a delightful shade of pink, evidence of her acute state of arousal. And the fact that she was naked, while they were both still fully dressed gave her a feeling of deep disorientation. She was filled with such hunger, such love, such all-consuming need, she could barely stand.

  Shivering, dry-mouthed, she watched Rolf’s expression as he reached out and touched her breasts with reverent fingers, his deeply tanned skin such a contrast to the soft creaminess of hers. His thumb rubbed across her hard little nipple and her face twisted, contorting with a mixture of love and lust so powerful, it presented more as pain than pleasure.

  Spellbound, he watched his thumb dragging across her dusky nipple, his heated stare like fire brushing her skin. “By all the gods, yndling! Thou art bewitching, enchanting. Thou art perfection itself. And thy scent…” He leaned forward and inhaled deeply. “Thy scent is ravishing. Like the sweetest flower garden.” He covered her breast with his palm while his other hand stroked down her belly and cupped her mound, sliding his long fingers through the slippery furrow of her slit.

  She gasped. It was almost a sob. Her body jerked and would have collapsed if Nicholas’s hands hadn’t come beneath her arms from behind and held her up.

  “I can’t wait to taste thee here.” Rolf’s low voice was rough as sand, abrading her nerve endings, leaving her senses in chaos. Two wicked fingers found her weeping entrance and thrust up inside her hot, welcoming sheath.

  Her throat closed on a yelp.

  “That’s right, kaereste. Suck my fingers into that sweet dripping cunny of thine. Bloody Hel, thou’rt so tight! So hot. Thou art burning my fingers. I cannot wait to fuck thee with my tongue.”

  She moaned, shutting her eyes helplessly.

  Still fully dressed, both men walked her slowly backwards toward the bed, keeping her naked body sandwiched between them, Rolf’s hand still hard on her mound, fingers stroking in and out of her dripping cunt. “Odin’s beard, Nick, she is so wet! So hot!”

  Another moan, a mangled sound, ripped from the depths of her soul. She was never going to survive this. These men were going to give her pleasure beyond anything she had ever known. Anything she had ever dreamed. Anything she had ever dared to hope—or even imagine. They were going to introduce her to a world of darkly erotic pleasure that would ultimately destroy the person she was and change her forever in ways she could not yet begin to understand. A pleasure that would awaken her body to wicked new cravings and desires that would could ultimately consume her.

  And, God help her, she wanted it. She wanted it more than she had ever wanted aught in her entire life.

  Still holding her under the arms, Nicholas sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her up after him, scooting backwards until he was sitting on the pillows at the head of the bed, with her sitting in the V of his thighs. His erection was a hard ridge against her spine. He leaned back against the ornately carved headboard. Rolf’s hand left her sex and she let out a whimper of disappointment.

  Nicholas’s hands moved to her knees, which he lifted and spread wide, draping her legs over his powerful forearms. The scent of her arousal filled the air around them. “Christ, beloved! You smell wonderful! So sweet.”

  She sighed, looking down her body at Rolf.

  Having removed his baldric, with its two lethal swords, he swiftly removed the rest of his clothing and leaned on his hands at the foot of the bed, wild and barbaric, the gold earring gleaming dully in the firelight. He was the epitome of a Viking raider preparing to ravish his helpless captive.

  Kathryn’s lungs seized, her eyes riveted to the primitive symbols marking his bronzed skin. The scything blades on one bicep, the Celtic knot on the other…Blessed Virgin! She’d never seen aught like them before. They made him seem completely pagan. Barbaric. He grinned and her heart stopped beating. She was suspended in time, unable to move, unable to breathe. Unable to think. She was in the grip of an arousal so intense, every part of her body was throbbing with uncontrollable lust.

  Licking his lips, a gesture that had her hot juices flowing out onto the sheets, Rolf started to crawl up the mattress toward her, toward that swollen, dripping sweetness between her legs, pink and juicy and throbbing with need. He was grinning, a diabolically wicked grin that stole her breath away.

  She tried to swallow but her mouth was as dry as dust. “Nicholas!” It was a squeak. A frantic cry for help. “This is going to kill me!” Rolf was still crawling up the bed, inexorably closing the distance between her old life and the ramifications of this terrifying new journey they were all embarking upon.

  Nicholas was chuckling. “Only if ’tis possible to die of pleasure.” He paused. “Let him pleasure you, beloved,” Nicholas whispered in her ear. “Just lie in my arms and enjoy his mouth on you, while I watch.”

  “I cannot wait to taste that beautiful little cunt,” Rolf said in a rumbling growl, his glittering eyes still holding her captive. “I have been dreaming of this since the moment I first laid eyes on thee, min skat. It has taken every ounce of discipline I’ve had not to put my hands on thee. And now I get to put my mouth on thee.” He grinned. “Life does not get any better.”

  “Aye.” She answered his grin with a shaky grin of her own. “But hurry. Please, Rolf,” she begged, her entire body quivering with wanton arousal. She needed his touch, needed to feel his mouth against her, sucking her tiny rod. “If you don’t touch me, I think I’ll die.”

  “Nay, kaereste.” His grin broadened. “Thou wilt die if I do touch thee. Of pleasure.” He brushed his nose against her dripping slit, inhaling deeply. She arch
ed back against Nicholas’s chest, her thigh muscles bunching and tightening until they were so weak they were trembling. She let out a sobbing, shuddering gasp. “Rolf!”

  “Almighty Odin, kaereste. Thy cunny smells so sweet—sweeter than the finest perfumes of Samarkand.” He flopped down on his belly, his bald head between her thighs, spreading her swollen labia with his callused thumbs, placing a long, lingering kiss first the right side, then the left.

  A sigh left her lungs on a shuddering moan.

  He blew on her sopping slit, making her tremble even harder. Her hips jerked up off the bed. And then he was licking her, sliding the flat of his tongue in one long, hard swipe from her dripping portal to the throbbing pearl at the top of her cleft. Her flavor exploded against his taste buds, sweet, fruity, delicious. And he knew it was a flavor that he would crave for the rest of his life.

  She screamed, her body combusting at his touch, flames scorching her heaving lungs, burning her alive.

  “By all the gods, yndling, thou art so delicious,” Rolf muttered against her skin. “So delicious. I could feast on thee all day.”

  Nicholas closed his eyes with a groan. He was caught up in a tidal wave of love and lust so powerful, it robbed him of his ability to breathe. The sight of his beloved with her legs spread wide, and his best friend’s head between them as he feasted on her sex, was the most erotic, the most ravishing, the most arousing thing he had ever seen in his life. He’d been right. Sharing was better when love was involved. A million times better.

  He moved his hands up to cover her breasts, spreading her legs even wider as Rolf feasted on the banquet between her thighs, licking, sucking, slurping, his tongue lapping against her sensitive skin like waves lapping against the shore.

  Gripping her hard nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, Nicholas played with them, twisting them, pulling on them, and squeezing them gently. Sending lightning bolts of pleasure forking through her entire body straight to her sizzling button.

  “God, Nicholas! Rolf! Don’t stop. Don’t stop! Oh, God!” She was thrashing, moaning, and grinding her hips against Rolf’s face as he pleasured her with the lashing whip of his agile tongue. Rasping it around her aching pearl, thrusting it into her flooding sheath. Laving and flicking and suckling her until she literally exploded into an orgasm she didn’t even know was coming. An orgasm for which she had no time to prepare. She went totally rigid, sucking air into her lungs until she thought they would rupture.

  Then her entire body convulsed in a series of violent spasms that had her gasping in sharp, painful breaths, as her body came apart. A million blazing starbursts detonated in the blackness behind her tightly closed eyelids. She drew in huge, shuddering gulps of air. Her womb spasmed, as the bruising pleasure of her orgasm ebbed and diminished, leaving her drained and depleted.

  But Rolf was not through with her yet. As soon as she sagged beneath him, he began lapping at her again, scouring his tongue over her quivering flesh, until her body was jolted by the fury of yet another savage climax that left her shattered and sobbing out her pleasure.

  As she lay there, utterly ravaged, Rolf rose above her, leaning down to claim her mouth, thrusting his tongue into her moist cavern, letting her taste herself on his lips and tongue. “By all the gods, Nick,” he exclaimed, staring down at her, his expression so filled with love that Nicholas was fiercely glad he had been able to convince him to do this. “She is delicious! I loved having her spend on my tongue. How lucky thou art to have found her.”

  “How lucky we are to have found her,” Nicholas corrected as he extricated himself from underneath his beloved wife-to-be and stood up next to the bed. “She belongs to both of us now.” Rolf rose to pick up his scattered clothes and walk them over to the table in front of the fireplace.

  “Nicholas!” Kathryn’s moan of protest rose from the bed. She couldn’t see where either man was. She just knew that they were no longer with her. And without them, without their heat, without their touch, she felt bereft.

  “Relax, beloved,” he said, kissing her on the forehead, stroking her cheek with one long finger. “Let your body recover from your orgasms. I’m just going to undress so we can pleasure you even more.”

  “I’m not sure I can take any more,” she answered sleepily, her body heavy with the deep lethargy of total satiation.

  Nicholas grinned. “Oh, aye, you can, beloved. And you will. Much more.”

  He disrobed quickly, folding his clothes neatly and placing them on the table next to Rolf’s. When they returned to the bed, Kathryn was curled up on her side, sleeping soundly.

  “Wake up, beloved,” Nicholas crooned, stroking his hand over the smooth, delectable curves of her ass, up the silken skin of her back, lightly scarred with the faint cross-hatched lines left by the cat o’ nine tails the nuns had scourged her with. “You cannot sleep yet. You have two very horny males to take care of.”

  “Mmmmm. Mm-m-m.” She stretched languidly, her back arching, thrusting out her breasts.

  “Roll over on your back, love.”

  As she did so, without opening her eyes, the men climbed into bed, one on each side of her. She could feel the heat of their bodies where their skin touched hers. Then she heard Nicholas’s voice in her right ear, low and vibrating with arousal. “I’m going to blindfold you, beloved,” he said,” so you can concentrate only on feeling. Feeling us touching you. Feeling us pleasuring you. Feeling us as we make you come over and over.”

  She couldn’t move. She could only listen to the dark promise in his voice. Listen and tremble with excitement and a need so fierce she thought she would shatter. She was certainly wide awake now.

  Something soft covered her eyes. A silken scarf.

  “Raise your head, my angel.”

  She did, and Nicholas quickly tied the scarf behind her head. She lay there absorbing the sensations of blindness. Of helplessness. Of shivering anticipation. Merciful God! Unable to see, she no longer felt anchored to the earth, but was, instead, floating above it. Floating on a sea of sensual awareness, waiting breathlessly to feel what they were going to do next.

  “Let us pleasure thee, min skat,” came Rolf’s throaty purr in her left ear. “That’s what ménage is all about. Pleasure. More pleasure than thou ever thought possible. Art thou ready for that?”

  She couldn’t find her voice. She could only nod jerkily. She was holding her breath.

  “Then we will begin,” Nicholas said.

  Lying on their sides, propping themselves up on their elbows, they began kissing her, first Nicholas, then Rolf. Back and forth, back and forth. Quick little nibbling kisses that sucked on her lips, drawing on them. Tasting, sipping, and savoring them. Tiny moans of pleasure ripped from her throat. While they were pleasuring her mouth, each man palmed a breast, flailing across her hard, throbbing nipples with their thumbs.

  She moaned again and arched up into those wicked hands, coming to life under their well-orchestrated assault on the pleasure centers of her body. She sucked in air as though she were trying to gather a lifetime supply before the world ran out of it.

  Rolf and Nicholas, as if following some hidden signal, began to trail wet, nipping kisses in tandem along her jaw line, down both sides of her neck. She was shivering and gasping under the dual onslaught of their teeth, their lips, their tongues. The exquisite sensations of their hands kneading her breasts, thumbs flicking idly across her nipples, sent lightning arcing through her, straight to her convulsing sheath. She could almost hear its crackling sizzle.

  They trailed fiery kisses along her shoulders, her collarbones, down, down, until their tongues were licking around the curves of her breasts, rasping along the fleshy globes, her dusky pink areolas—she gasped as pleasure consumed her.

  Two hands pushed her breasts up from the undersides and two hot, savage mouths closed over the nipples, suckling noisily, their tongues flicking relentlessly over the hard, aching points.

  Oh, sweet mercy! She was dying!

  The to
ngues slashing violently across both her nipples at the same time gave her a pleasure so destructive, she didn’t think she would survive this carnal onslaught. “Blessed Mary!” The oath was wrenched from her throat in a hoarse cry. A shudder raced through her, as bolts of lightning scorched a blistering path straight to her cunt. Her strangled moan was feral, primitive, torn from her lips. She had never felt anything as exquisitely delicious as her lovers’ mouths suckling both of her breasts at the same time.

  Her entire body was a smoldering ruin as lightning jolted through her, igniting every cell in her body. She was so hot she was in flames, so wet she was dripping onto the mattress. As her hips jerked up off the bed, two hairy legs hooked over her legs and spread them wide. Two hands reached down and tangled in her wet, sticky curls. Blessed Virgin! How could she take any more of this brutal pleasure without dying?

  Her breaths were now coming in harsh little moans as hard fingers explored her slit. Her hips bucked and jerked, seeking more…more.

  They took turns plunging two fingers at a time into her ripe cunt, and rasping around her hyper-sensitized little nub. It was so tender each touch was almost painful.

  She whimpered, tiny mewling cries of pleasure and distress, as she ground her hips against those thrusting, stroking instruments of her torture and delight. Their movements became a blur. She was so lost in her sensual haze she couldn’t tell whose fingers were doing what, when.

  As a third finger joined the two thrusting in and out of her tight sheath, two more well-lubricated fingers penetrated her anus, sliding easily past the tight little rosebud opening. A masterful thumb rasped her pearl, sending her bowing up off the bed.

  She was panting for breath, moaning and thrashing her head about on the pillow as her body tightened, released, tightened, released. She was so close…so close.

  Rolf raised his head from her breast. Cool air brushed across her wet nipple, making her shiver uncontrollably. “Come, min skat. Come for us.”

  “Aye!” she cried, feeling her orgasm begin to lift her on the crest of a huge, pounding wave. “Aye!” She hurtled through a darkness that was suddenly ablaze with flashing lights and bursting stars. Blessed Virgin! She was going to die of pleasure!