by Nia Farrell
REPLAY SET 1
Viking Raid
Triple Play
Honour Bound
by
Nia Farrell
REPLAY SET 1: Viking Raid – Triple Play – Honour Bound
Contains Books 1-3 in the Replay Series
All books are © 2016 Nia Farrell
Edited by Anita Quick and Anne Bright
E-Book Boxed Set Cover Design by Crystal Visions
Stock Photography from periodimages.com, bigstock.com, and pixabay.com
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used without the written consent of the author, except for brief quotes in reviews. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or any other means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this book. Such action is in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law.
Unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
Length: 60,457 words
Released December 2016
Long Branch Books
Shattuc, Illinois
Disclaimers
This book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The use of any real company, organization, and/or product names is for literary effect only. All other trademarks and copyrights are the property of their respective owners.
Look for these titles by Nia Farrell:
SOMETHING ELSE
(The Three Graces Book One)
SOMETHING DIFFERENT
(The Three Graces Book Two)
SOMETHING MORE
(The Three Graces Book Three)
Finalist, Best BDSM Book of the Year, Ménage Category,
2016 Golden Flogger Awards
THE THREE GRACES TRILOGY
SOMETHING SPECIAL
(The Three Graces Book Six—sequel to SOMETHING ELSE)
Nominated for Best Erotica and Best Romance,
2016 Summer Indie Book Awards
DARK MOONS RISING
REPLAY BOOK 1: VIKING RAID
Nominated for Best Erotica,
2016 Summer Indie Book Awards
AS WICKED AS YOU WANT
(FOREVER OURS BOOK 1)
Voted #1 Erotica and #10 overall,
The 50 Best Indie Books of 2016
Nominated for
Best Historical, Best Erotica, and Best Romance,
2016 Summer Indie Book Awards
REPLAY BOOK 2: TRIPLE PLAY
REPLAY BOOK 3: HONOUR BOUND
REPLAY BOOK 4: HOOKED releases January 1, 2017
Titles
by Nia Farrell and Jane Austen
PRIDE AND PUNISHMENT
An Erotic Retelling of Jane Austen’s Beloved Classic
Nominated for
Best Historical, Best Erotica, and Best Romance,
2016 Summer Indie Book Awards
and by Nia Farrell writing as Erinn Ellender Quinn
RIDE THE WIND
TOUCH THE WIND
REPLAY SET 1
TABLE OF CONTENTS
REPLAY SET 1 Dedication
REPLAY BOOK 1: VIKING RAID
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Epilogue
REPLAY BOOK 2: TRIPLE PLAY
Dedication
National Child Abuse Hotline
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Epilogue
REPLAY BOOK 3: HONOUR BOUND
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Epilogue
Replay Series Character List
Author Biography and Links
Previous Releases
Upcoming Releases
Dedication
Replay Set 1 is my first boxed set, done at the suggestion of my personal assistant Natasha Hooks. After going indie in May, 2016, I realized I needed help, and Natasha was brave enough to answer my call. She’s an amazing individual, and I am so very happy to be sharing this journey with her.
This one’s for you, Wonder Woman. You are the bomb.
~ Nia
REPLAY BOOK 1
VIKING RAID
by
Nia Farrell
REPLAY BOOK 1: Viking Raid
© 2016 Nia Farrell
Edited by Anita Quick and Anne Bright
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used without the written consent of the author, except for brief quotes in reviews. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or any other means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this book. Such action is in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law.
Unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
First Edition July 1, 2016
Length 20,279 words/99 pages
Long Branch Books
Shattuc, Illinois
Dedication
This one is for all of my reenactor friends, my BDSM friends, and especially my BDSM reenactor friends. You know who you are.
For everyone whose path has crossed mine—again—and for those who remember our lifetimes before, thank you for sharing this journey.
~ Nia
Chapter One
“And she’s good with this?”
Gunnar Falk cocked a blond brow, tossed the contract on the massive oak desk, and waited for his boss to explain why he should be so excited over something so tame. Oral, vaginal, and maybe anal sex. Light flogging. Light bondage. Piers St. Leger’s pet project was willing to consider wax play and swallowing, but very little else. Of the dozens of the things listed on the pages, Gunnar read line after line of hard limits.
Piers slanted a telling glance right back at him. Replay’s owner knew Gunnar was being facetious, but what the fuck did he expect?
“It’s…French vanilla, I admit, but it’s her birthday. Their birthday,” Piers corrected. “Identical twins. Personality wise, they’re flip sides of a coin. The two of them will play spiritual sisters. Tails—she wants to be Misty.”
That sounded more like it. A pious nun, a Viking raid, “ravishment” by five—or more—of the Northern horde. This side of Replay was typically SSC—safe, sane, consensual BDSM—role-playing, bondage, spankings, impact play, mostly ménage and group scenes. The RACK s
ide of the resort—Risk Aware Consensual Kink—was where the likes of de Sade, Vlad, Spanish Inquisitors, and their minions held court.
“Heads wants you to be her first.”
Gunnar’s mouth curved in what might be mistaken for a smile. “If I do this,” he said, “she understands it’s just for the night? She knows that I’m not looking for a permanent sub?”
“She didn’t ask to be trained. She’s seen you perform, and she trusts you to not hurt her. She doesn’t have her sister’s experience, but she’s decided to try a maiden voyage around the world for her twenty-second birthday, and she chose you, if you agree.”
Shit. A virgin.
Gunnar reached for the contract and read it with new eyes. Breanna Campbell. Her signature looked as perfect as the calligraphy on an invitation. Twenty-two years old—or she would be soon, about to lose her chastity on a medieval stage, while her adventurous twin sister handled the rest of his horde. Replay had enough men versed in Old Norse and Viking customs to do the scene, but Gunnar normally directed the action. He preferred to keep his sex off stage. Discreet, safe, and transitory, with submissives who knew the rules.
This one wasn’t even a sub. He didn’t know what she was besides ballsy, to ask for him. “If she’s seen me perform, why would she think I’ll agree to this, virgin ass aside?”
“Because of what you did to her,” said Piers.
“What I did to her?” Ignoring the goosebumps that prickled his skin, Gunnar waited for Piers to explain.
“You’ve met her,” Piers assured him. “My musical director. The harpist in the mead hall?” he prodded when Gunnar still couldn’t place her. “Her sister Rowena performs with her.”
Gunnar recalled the two blonde beauties, one playing for the crowd, the other playing for herself, lost in the moment, her harp cradled between her legs, weaving magic with her hands, eyelids fluttering closed as if she’d found subspace with just a piece of music.
It was one of the most sensual things he’d ever seen.
Gunnar felt the internal shift, the pendulum swing from a mild don’t-waste-my-time annoyance to an okay-tell-me-more spark of genuine interest.
Sensing the change, Piers leaned against the high back of his leather office chair. “You tipped her. She was…impressed.”
Gunnar had been, too. He had reached into his leather purse, pulled out a crux penny, and thought, what the hell. She deserved it. He had hoped that she would realize its value, a thousand years in the making. Evidently she knew more than music.
And she wanted him to be her first.
He had to wonder why. He usually choreographed the action. His participation was limited to his specialties—discipline, wax play, and the occasional interrogation of someone who had signed on for that experience. One sister wanted the thrill of it all, but this one…this one wanted something else. Something more. And she trusted him to give it to her.
Damn if the idea didn’t intrigue him.
He supposed he could do it. He would do it. Fuck, he knew that he’d made up his mind as soon as he paired the name with a face. Still, he let Piers keep on talking. Breanna Campbell was naturally submissive. Biddable. Trainable. Replay might employ her as a professional musician, but she could easily play the part of a maiden fair in a number of scenes that were performed here.
She was considerably shorter than he was. About five feet five, which should make for some interesting dynamics. He remembered pale, smooth skin. Whiskey eyes, seductively shielded by a thick brush of lashes. Lips full and earnest, beautiful even without makeup. She was ready to be initiated, to experience the sexual rite of passage. He didn’t want to hurt her, but the thought of Breanna surrendering her innocence to another Dom had Gunnar reaching for a pen.
Chapter Two
Breanna checked her linen coif, wiped her hands on her blue woolen smock, and knocked on Sir Piers’s office door, refusing to ask herself—for the hundredth time—what she’d been thinking, agreeing to do a scene with her sister on their birthday and finally learning what “it” was all about.
“Come in.”
Breanna stepped inside and stopped just past the door when she saw Gunnar Falk, six feet six inches of gloriously ripped Northman, his pale blue eyes watching her intently, his blond coloring a stark contrast to the raven-haired owner of Replay. While nearly as tall, Sir Piers looked like British aristocracy (which she’d heard he was). He usually dressed like a dark, dominant Heathcliff. Today he wore Regency attire—ruffled shirt, fitted buff breeches, dark blue tailcoat, and boots that added two inches to his already impressive height.
When Rowena had first come up with the idea of experiencing a scene together, she’d suggested a Jane Austen theme with a cadre of British soldiers and Piers St. Leger as Wickham. Sir Piers might be master of the Replay domain, but he wasn’t the man Breanna wanted. He couldn’t speak Old Norse and lead a Viking raid. He wasn’t Scandinavian. Gunnar Falk was all that and more.
The tip he’d once given her had revealed an unexpected kindness, a generosity of spirit. Since seeing him in action, he’d haunted her dreams.
To be fair, Breanna had researched the rest of the Viking Doms, and Gunnar remained the best choice for her first time. The child of parents serving in the Norwegian diplomatic corps, he’d been raised at embassies around the world, was multilingual with a masters degree in history. His special area of interest was Dark Ages Europe, and he was trained in marine archaeology. His discovery of an ancient shipwreck with its treasure intact had made him rich enough to pursue his pleasures, and those had led him here, where he was actually paid to indulge them. Maybe not every man’s dream job, but it seemed to suit him well, and he certainly fit the part.
Gunnar was drop dead gorgeous, with a body like a Bernini statue and a face like mortal sin. He was also one of the most sought-after for scenes, thanks to a television series that had renewed interest in Viking history and culture. Today he was dressed for role playing, with a red woolen kyrtill worn over his fitted white trousers. Ornate trim edged the neckline and sleeves. His lower legs were wrapped with woven strips of wool that could be used, if needed, to bind someone’s wrists. Back in the day, his ornate belt and bulging purse would have identified him as a man of considerable substance. The sheathed dagger hanging from it suggested that he would protect his property at all cost.
The Viking Dom and Replay’s owner both rose. They gave the appearance of Old World gentlemen exhibiting cool civility, but the look in Gunnar’s pale blue eyes was like heat lightning, striking hard and fast. The rush of blood that colored her cheeks flowed down to swell her breasts and pool between her legs, making her engorged private parts throb and her body tighten around one of the plugs that her sister insisted she start wearing, to make things easier if Gunnar decided to explore the option she’d given him in the contract. He held a pen in his hand, and the thought that he might have already signed it made her breath hitch in her chest.
Sir Piers smiled at her reaction and officially introduced them. “Breanna, Sir Gunnar. Sir Gunnar, Breanna.”
The sheer energy that Gunnar embodied made Breanna drop her gaze to the floor. “Sire,” she said, her nervousness making her contralto voice even lower than normal. When she sang duets with her sister, Rowena usually soared an octave above her.
Gunnar bent over the desk, signed the contract with bold, broad strokes, and handed the gold-tipped fountain pen to Sir Piers. Turning back to Breanna, he drew himself up to his full, intimidating height and eyed her with an intensity that she felt to her core.
“On your knees, wench.”
She obeyed immediately, presenting the proper form as she understood it, head bowed, eyes down, knees slightly apart, hands resting on her thighs with palms up, awaiting the Dom’s command.
“Góðr. Good.” Gunnar acknowledged her effort, sounding genuinely pleased. He walked over to where she knelt, slowly circling to stand behind her.
Without moving her head, she risked a glance upward and saw Sir P
iers looking at his computer screen. He clicked on his keyboard and stroked his chin. “Sir Gunnar, the castle kitchen set is free. I suggest you take Breanna down. Discuss the scene in detail, decide what you need, see if any questions remain to be addressed. Have Samael page me if you need me.”
Gunnar turned toward the door. “Come, wench,” he said. “Hie thee to the kitchen.”
She followed him as best she could, his long-legged stride eating the length of the maze of back halls that made working at Replay an adventure in itself. The first time she’d wandered, she’d gotten lost and ended up in the public viewing areas, where a number of scenes were being acted. While trying to find the mead hall where she’d left her sister and her harp, she had found Rowena watching the first of a new scene, a Viking raid. Leading the horde of Northmen, all speaking Old Norse, had been Gunnar.
He had held himself aloof, dispensing punishment, issuing orders, directing the action. He was a master choreographer, and everyone had danced to his tune. Breanna was so caught up in the memory that she nearly ran into Gunnar’s back when he stopped to open a heavy oaken door.
“Hér.” Gunnar stepped into the museum quality set where they would meet again in a week, if she didn’t change her mind in the time between.
It was an impressive space, with a number of benches flanking four long wooden tables. A large fireplace took up most of one stone wall. Torches were mounted on the others. Wax candles studded the heavy iron chandeliers, which were hung securely enough to perform suspension.
“I am pleased, thus far, with both your prompt obedience and your form.” His voice was as thick and rich as warm chocolate. His scent was an erotic mix of wood smoke and leather and musk. “You’ve obviously researched and have given this more than a little thought. I want to make certain that your first time is as memorable as we can make it.”
