by Rae Monet
Never had Whyatt aroused her to such a state as she felt now.
Slowly awakening, Sable arched and moaned in enjoyment.
It wasn't a dream, it was Eirik's mouth. He was worshipping her breasts, moving between each peak as if they were a delicious treat to be savored. Sable sucked in a breath.
"Eirik."
Laving one final lick, he made eye contact with her. The tip of his tongue slowly left her nipple. He smiled and Sable felt as if someone punched her in the gut. When he smiled, those loveable dimples appeared. He seemed so young, carefree, and ... edible. She bit her lower lip. She needed to stop thinking about him in that way before she succumbed to his designs. He was her enemy, and she his slave. She needed to remember that.
"Stop."
He continued to grin as he slid up her body. Positioning his cock at her vagina, he gently probed her. The fur fitted around them, creating a warm cocoon, ripe for seduction. She was wet and ready for him to take her. Then, she registered her discovery.
God's blood, he is completely naked.
"Eirik, I can not. Stop this."
He ignored her protest and continued assaulting her senses. She could smell him, his scent, his arousal. He softly rubbed his face against the side of her cheek. The stubble of whiskers on his chin scuffed her tender skin, painful yet desperately arousing.
He whispered in her ear, “So beautiful. Yield for me, Sable, take me into you. Let me have you,dýrr .” He licked her bottom lip, and settled into kissing her, taking her mouth as if it was a gift. He released her lips, only to run his tongue down the side of her neck, where he positioned his mouth and sucked.
Sable exhaled. She throbbed all over with passion for this man. Her physical body wanted fulfillment—yet her mind begged her to protest. Her mind was losing the battle with her body. She wanted him to bury his cock deep inside her.
Sable felt a strong bond with him. Everything about him touched her mind sense: his smooth, yet rough skin sliding against hers, the hair of his chest prickling her stomach, his blond mane curled behind his ear to give him uninhibited access to her neck, and his smell—Gods, his scent. She wanted, wanted to have him more than anything she had ever wanted in her life.
"Take me in,dýrr , wrap your legs around me."
She began to climb, her passion winning over her mindless protests. He was poised at her entrance, running his cock barely in and out of her, creating a hot desire that sent tingles up her spine. Not entering, yet not retreating, just probing, building a fire. She was on the edge of coming.
"Ahhh. God's blood,” she swore.
He chuckled, and rimmed her ear with his tongue. “Take me. Say yes.” He exhaled the words against her ear.
She arched into him as he drew his hardness away. She settled down when he pressed back in. He was teasing her. Showing her what it could be like if he slid all the way in. He seemed so in control. In the midst of her confusion, he was steady as a rock. Only a small drop of sweat dripping down his temple told her something different.
Sable wondered why he didn't just take her. Why he wanted her consent. It would be easier if he just raped her. He claimed she was his slave. Even in the Realm, Sable had learned the ways of the Vikings. Slaves taken in combat had no rights.
Sable remained silent. His blue gaze met hers. He had positioned his arms on each side of her head. Slowly, inch-by-inch, he slid his large hand down the side of her body to cup her ass. Sable arched an eyebrow at him. The side of his mouth tweaked, the beginning of a smile appeared. He wrapped his fingers around her thigh and forced her leg over his ass.
Sable didn't protest. She let her leg stay anchored to his ass, curious to see where he was going. He trailed his fingers up her body, and Sable shivered in reaction. The light butterfly touch of his fingers on her skin burned, heating her from the inside out. After he slid his body back up her, he reached down with his other arm and slid up her other leg over him, his eyes never leaving hers.
His gaze was doing strange things to her insides. It was an intimate, loving touch of his eyes to hers. He was worshipping her, the way a warrior would do with his life mate.
"Take me. Say yes. Touch me,dýrr ."
Sable shook her head, trying to deny him. He leaned forward and kissed her, not just a normal kiss but a wet mating of lips. His tongue moved in and out of her mouth in rhythm to his hips and the cock touching her vagina. His tongue entered her mouth, the taste of him, wine maybe or something else, she didn't know what—but the taste of him sent her over the brink, teetering towards surrender.
Sable reached up and circled her arm around him. He was so large; she grabbed his shoulders and hung on. His skin was wet now. She was on the edge of an incredible orgasm. Her body began to betray her, her hips rose to meet his small thrusts. She closed her eyes, savoring the burning feeling that came before the explosion. Her heart tripped faster. Her breath came in gasps.
"Yes, that's it, say yes. Come with me. Be mine. Sable, look at me!"
She opened her eyes at his command. His control appeared to be at an end. He was gasping now, his skin gleaming with perspiration. He was wild-eyed, looking as if he was ready to explode. His expression of pure passion shut down her protests.
He wants me as much as I want him.
"Yes."
"Hold on,” he murmured, his smile gone. He rocked back, and the fur fell off as he ran his hands down to her ass to secure her, drawing her up and against him, as if he thought she would change her mind and he wanted to make sure she couldn't move.
She held onto him as he had ordered while he swept her upward, her back lifting off the bedding. He thrust his cock into her full hilt, no foreplay, just one forceful push. Sable gasped. His cock was huge. It had been too long since the clumsy couplings of her youth, and she felt pain. Then he began to move and there was nothing but white-hot bliss.
The man she thought was in control ... considerate of her wishes—was gone. The lover that took his place was now taking what he wanted. Sable's head fell back as his massive cock rode her. She had been on that edge too long. Now she toppled over, quickly but not quietly.
An unbelievable burning heat traveled from where their bodies met to her head and exploded with mind-blowing gratification. She cried out. As her head lolled forward, he latched onto her lips with his. He made little growling noises, clearly as caught up in the moment as her. His breath was labored, panting out against her lips as he seized them and kissed her again and again. His tongue entered her mouth, plunging while he thrust in and out with his cock.
She began climbing again.
"Yes, come again for me,dýrr , again."
He eased her down onto her back, his lips leaving hers. His hands slid off of her ass to imprison her head, the transition flawless. With the added stability of the ground, his thrust went deeper, stronger. Of her own volition, Sable's hips moved to match his rhythm. She sucked in a breath and closed her eyes at the added penetration, unable to believe he could get any deeper. Yet he did. The friction was so good, so good. He thrust in and stopped.
"Gods, you're so tight."
She opened her eyes, irritated at the interruption.
"How long,dýrr has it been since you have been with a man?"
Sable huffed in annoyance. Did they need to discuss this right now? To distract him, she ran hands down his muscled back to grab his hard ass. He was so brawny, his muscles bulged, spasming under her caress. She kneaded his ass and rotated her hips, tightening the muscles of her vagina.
"Did you not understand the word yes?"
He groaned and kissed her, one of his moist, heated kisses. He could kiss like no other, she thought. Sable took his lips, seizing his offering, and began to move again with him. She was so close ... so near...
He continued his thrusts, his breath straining. She saw the tension in his face, as if he was holding back, waiting for her to join him.
"Come with me,” he groaned as he strained against her. Sable tightened her legs around him.
He held her head between his arms. The pressure of his large body against hers was so amazing, as if he was meant be there—between her legs—all her life.
"Come with me. Ahhhh.” He released her lips. Sweat formed on his brow, dropping onto her neck. The smell of him, that masculine odor, sexy and spicy, was amazing, so different from her smell. He continued to thrust, his expression tortured as he obviously struggled to keep his restraint.
"For the love ofFrigg ... Gods ... come for me again. Now!” His last words sounded as if they were wrenched out of him. He groaned as his thrusts increased, coming faster and faster. His pleasure became her own.
Sable did as he demanded. She came like a flash of lightning, exultation blazing through her body, momentarily blinding her and robbing her of thought. Her breath catching, she sunk into him, crying out. Her groan matched his as he erupted. Pressing her down, he plunged into her body. His body jerked, his neck arched. Sable had never seen a more beautiful sight.
He sucked back his breath as she did hers. His body sagged onto her, their sweat mixing. At one point Sable's fingers had sunk into his beautiful hair. It was like silk in her hands. She released the handful, and it slid through her fingers. Spreading her hand, she laid it over his head and stroked the softness. She had never snuggled after sex. It didn't seem necessary, but now she seemed to crave it.
He rested on her and she felt his breath slow. The hard pounding of his heart became a steady rhythm against her chest. He raised his head and looked at her.
"You are mine now.” He tightened his arms around her.
Sable huffed out a breath, but she couldn't stop her laughter tinged with bitterness. “Hardly. I will never be yours, Viking, as long as I am your slave. What I give, I give of my own free will."
He stiffened and let out a noise, half growl, half shout. His anger evident, he jerked his upper body up and away.
"Do you doubt me? Do you need me to show you?"
Sable tried to restrain her temper. He was still seated inside of her. His hair fell down his shoulders, covering his face, masking his emotions from her.
"You are an arrogant ass, Viking, if you think forcing me to your will can bring you satisfaction."
Despite her anger, Sable couldn't seem to help herself. Reaching up, she tucked his beautiful blond hair behind his ear so she could see his expression. When she finished, her fingers trailed down his cheek to his jaw, then settled on his neck, feeling his beating pulse. He had a small scar there, just at the base of his throat, likely a battle wound. It looked like a scar from a blade. She stroked the scar, her heart clenching. It was so close to the vein in his neck. He could have been killed. She ran her thumb over the scar, obsessed with the idea of his death, wondering why it upset her.
What the hell am I doing?
She snatched back her hand, chastising herself. Here she was, held prisoner by him, claimed as his slave, stroking him like he was really her lover.
Suddenly his anger seemed to abate. His features softened, he lowered his body back down to hers. Flattening his arms, he reached down again and lifted her legs around his body. He hardened inside her, his cock straining against the walls of her vagina. Her heart began to pound in anticipation, her breath hitching.
"Again,” he whispered against her lips before he claimed them with another mind-blowing melding of lips and tongue.
She sighed and succumbed as he began to move inside of her. He made her want things she shouldn't want. Giving up, Sable buried her hands in his hair, with one final thought.
Maybe bed is where we need to stay. Talking doesn't seem to be our strong area.
Chapter Three
Eirik had never been so taken with a woman in his life. He drew in a breath and blew it out slowly, savoring the release.
Gods, what the hell had happened here?
In less than four hours the other men would be arriving for the claiming ceremony and he was lounging in bed, loving a woman he had no business being with.
When he awoke early that morn, Sable had been wrapped around him like a lover in a shelter of sensual warmth. Earlier, he had released her bindings. She hadn't stirred although he left her hands free. That might have been his first mistake.
Initially, he was merely going to wake her, tell her what to expect. Discuss the roles they needed to act out. He traced the mark on her shoulder, it was so intricate, incredible, the mark of a warrior. What had he gotten himself into? Then her floral scent permeated his senses, setting off a trigger in his body he could no longer deny.
She stretched against him. The warmth of her skin touched him and his cock stood at attention, urging him to claim her. Her breath stirred against his ear as she snuggled next to his side. In her sleep-induced state her hand twitched and slid to gently massage his chest. She wasn't aware of what she was doing, he could tell by the cute snore.
But his dick was having no part of leaving her alone. The final slip of her leg against his snapped his restraint. The control he had worked on maintaining from the first moment he laid eyes on her dissolved.
He had rolled over and began to celebrate her body. He couldn't help himself. He wanted her, needed to claim her as his own. As far as he was concerned, she was his woman.
He had to have her. He wanted her so bad he was in pain. These feelings had been with him, haunting him since they met. He remembered it well...
That day, she had been fighting against the Norsemen. She had been glorious, red war paint adorning her face and arms, her sword moving as if connected to her body. She parried with her trained Viking opponent, her skill so sure it was unbelievable. She had fought far better than any woman had the right to fight. But he saw she was tired. She had been fighting for hours, and favored her hip, as if it was injured. The blood that flowed down her leg made him almost dizzy in his anger.
He made a vow that day, to protect her. A vow he had no intention of ever breaking.
And now she was holding him, cradling him against her heated body. They had just thoroughly loved twice and he would go again if he wasn't concerned about her comfort. She had been so tight. He could tell she hadn't had a man in a long time. When she told him she had been with a man, he assumed she had many lovers. A woman so beautiful should have plenty of experience. But that was not the case. And now she was his, and he was keeping her.
He snuggled into her. Leaning on his arms, he dropped his head into her neck and breathed deep. She smelt like a combination of roses, sweat, and sex. His cock began to harden in response. She moaned.
Gods, he needed to get a hold of himself.
"I need to talk to you,” he said.
The sound of his voice seemed to kick her out of her agreeable mood. She stiffened in his arms and gave a small push. He sighed in regret and eased out and off of her. He couldn't quite make himself release her. Tucking her into his side, he reached down and tugged the fur back over them.
She peered past him to her wolf. “Midnight.” Relief laced her voice.
Slipping his hair behind his ear, he turned toward his woman. Last night, before untying Sable, he had freed her wolf and placed her in a cage. He only left the muzzle, so she wouldn't alert the other hunters. If they knew he had an affinity for the wolf, they would kill it in a minute. The same would be true for Sable. Taming her would be a challenge.
"I untied her."
She sighed and tucked her head under his chin. Eirik rested an arm around her. If he could stay here, with her in his arms under him when needed, all would be well.
"My thanks."
He trailed his finger down her arm. She shivered.
"Cold?"
She paused, then sighed. “Nay."
He knew how difficult it was for her to admit her attraction to him. When she had first told him to stop loving her, he considered her request until he saw the way her body had reacted to his. She wanted him.
"We must talk. The claiming ceremony,” he said as stroked her skin, his hand sliding down her arm. Her skin was so soft, so be
autiful; he had never felt anything like it. Just to touch her aroused him.
"Continue."
He smiled at her command. This was not a woman used to taking orders, more familiar with giving them. She was a warrior, and that was one of the characteristics that had attracted him to her. An incredibly sexy warrior.
"It is a Viking tradition, when a female slave is taken in battle she must be claimed in front of all the men, to prove his mastery. Claimed is not the word.” He paused and looked away. “Forced is a closer fit."
She raised her head, her stormy gaze battling with his blue stare. “Claimed by whom?"
Reaching up, he stroked her hair. Her hair was incredible, a warm spicy deep brown, sinfully sexy. Her hair felt better than the softest mink pelt, smooth and velvety. He ran his fingers through it. The need to have her began sneaking up on him again.
"You are claimed by the person who captured you.” His hand slid to the back of her head. He moved his fingers down to her neck and massaged the tight muscles.
She moaned and tilted her head. Her hair fell to the side, caressing his arm. He pulled in a long breath, trying to calm himself. He had just taken her twice, and he wanted to take her again. Right then, right there.
Eirik growled in frustration. She was turning him into a mindless, rutting beast.
"I need you to fight me,dýrr . I want the men to see your defiance, then your surrender. This is the only way to keep them away from you."
She jerked back from his touch. He could sense her protest even before she made it.
"I will not surrender.” She started to push away, but Eirik grabbed her arm, stopping her. Her eyes flashed. His heartbeat quickened. She was even more beautiful in anger.
