by Kate Pearce
All right. Soothe the beast. She moved around the desk and stepped behind him at the bookcase. “Why don’t you seek me out?” She slipped her hands inside the back of his black shirt and pressed them at the base of his spine. He was so warm, so strong. She loved every hard inch of his body, and all the soft ones, too. His rough edges had been hewn by years of hard work and persistence. He wasn’t the kind of man who’d give up on anything, and she was going to make sure he stuck it out with her, too. Come what may.
“Why don’t you seek me out? Come looking for me?” She traced around the top of his waistband with a feather-light touch that made him suck in a breath.
“I figured you were busy.”
“I’m never too busy for you and Harvey.”
She ignored the deep rumble from his chest and fluttered her fingers over the silky trail of hair beneath his bellybutton. She felt his pulse thundering in that place as all his blood headed south.
“Besides, Harvey had to fly to Charlotte to tie up some business issues. I don’t know when he’ll be back.”
Harvey could have done some of what he had to do remotely, but they’d both agreed Ollie needed placating. Harvey had hoped he’d only be gone for a few days, but while he was there, he’d get all his ducks in a row. He didn’t want to have to leave Tess like this again—not when she really needed him.
“How long has he been gone?”
“Two days.”
She dipped her hands inside his waistband and he grabbed her wrists as her fingertips skimmed his coarse curls.
“You’re just lonely,” he said. “I feel it.”
“You’re right that I’m lonely, but being lonely doesn’t make me desperate. I was by myself for a very long time, and celibate for most of it. If I’m touching you, it’s because it makes me happy to do so. I assure you that’s a rare thing. To be Afótama, I value my personal space far too much to give it up casually.”
“I believe you.”
“Good. Let go of my wrists.”
He hesitated. “Is that an order from the queen or merely a request?”
She canted her head, staring at him. She felt nothing from him. Either he didn’t feel any particular way, or he was able to lock his emotions down the same way she did her thoughts. Did he not want her to touch him?
“I don’t want to order you. I just want to touch you. Please let me.”
He let go.
She rested her chin against his back and closed her eyes. “Are you going to make things hard for me?” she whispered. It was a rhetorical question she expected no response to.
He gave none.
“Harvey told me that he’s been online since he was a kid.”
Ollie tensed against her, but didn’t move away.
“He caught bits and pieces of psychic activity from the time he was very young, and never told anyone because he didn’t want to get into trouble.”
“Wise of him.”
“Well, I feel like that lost little kid right now who knows she’s weird, but can’t get a handle on how. I’m twenty years behind the curve. I don’t know how simple things work, and yet I can cause pain without trying.”
“You’ve got a find a pocket of serenity in your mind and cling to it.”
“You make that sound like a simple thing.”
“For me, it is. I’ve been doing it all my life, so I can’t tell you how to do it. It’d be like explaining how to draw in air. It’s something you do once, and then keep doing involuntarily. It becomes automatic. Like blinking.”
“I hope I find that serene place sooner or later, then.”
“You will.” This time, when he grasped her wrists, she let him pull them free of his waistband. He turned around, sighing, and cupped her chin. “You know, that’s another way you’re different from the women in Fallon.”
She felt her brow furrow. “In that I can’t control myself?”
“No, in that you don’t particularly relish hurting people.” His smile waned, and his already-sullen mood seemed to plummet even more.
No, no, no! She needed him smiling again, and not just because he had the face of a god and the curve of his lips made her want to have very naughty things done to her. She needed him to smile, because his sadness gnawed at her gut and debilitated her. She couldn’t do anything else until he was content.
Whatever had happened that would break such a man this way…she didn’t want to fathom it.
“I don’t want you upset,” she said, and knew the words were inadequate as soon as they passed her lips, but she wasn’t good with words. Harvey had always been the one who was good with words. The only thing she’d been good at was running, and she was sick and tired of running.
Vikings didn’t run away from fights.
“It’s not your fault, baby.”
“It doesn’t matter whose fault it is. When you’re sad, I want to fix it. That’s how it works right?”
“Should work that way, but it’s been a long time since I’ve seen that connection working the way the gods intended.”
“What can I do to make you happy?”
His eyes rolled toward the ceiling, and hands settled atop her shoulders. He kneaded them, skillfully rolling the tight knots with strong hands.
Moaning, she closed her eyes and enjoyed the blessed silence.
“You want to make me happy? Get on my bike and go back to Fallon with me.”
“You know I can’t. I belong in this place.”
“I know. I may be an outcast, but I wouldn’t try to upset that. Not now.” He pressed his thumbs to her temples and continued his massage there.
“Mmm. That feels nice.”
“I like that you let me touch you the way I want.”
“You haven’t been unreasonable. And you’ve been gentle. There’s nothing to complain about.”
“I know how much you value your personal space.”
“It’s hardly an intrusion when it’s broached by people I adore.”
“Adore, huh?”
She opened her eyes and grinned at him. “Don’t act like you don’t know. You felt it the moment you walked into my suite. Hell, you could probably smell the lust on me. I wanted to climb you like a tree, even with everything that was going on in my head that night.”
“I assure you the feeling was mutual. When you turned up in my dreams, you’d tease me.” He let his hands fall to her shoulders, and down her arms. “There was this one dream I always hated. You’d undress me, and lay me down. You’d rub me with some kind of oil from my neck down to my toes and you’d just glide your nude body over me. Back and forth.”
He cupped her breasts through her shirt and pushed them together. He leaned his head to the side and looked at her with longing as if she wouldn’t let him take what he wanted.
“You’d sit on my legs, push your breasts together like this, and put my cock between them.”
“I did that?” Maybe it was time she expanded her repertoire.
“Mm-hmm.” He let go of her breasts only to pluck her aching nipples.
Moaning, she arched into him, and he grabbed her beneath the ass, picked her up, and set her on the desk’s edge.
“I always woke up hard enough to cut glass, and there wasn’t a single woman around I wanted touching me.”
“Sounds awful.”
“All your fault.” Pressing his hands to her knees, he parted her legs.
“I can’t find it in me to apologize.”
“So don’t.” He grabbed the fabric of her skirt and pulled it over her knees. Spreading her legs farther, he hissed. “Panties have a purpose.”
“Sometimes. Usually not. I figured you’d prefer easy access.” She reached for his belt buckle and paused to study it. Silver with a slight patina. It was a heavy rectangle engraved with a Viking longship. A fearsome dragon, mouth opened and tongue lashing out, stretched from the bow. “It’s pretty,” she said.
“It’s yours, then.”
“That’s kind of you, but it looks
very old. You should keep it.”
“It is old,” he said. He unfastened it and pulled the belt free from his jeans. “All the more reason for you to have it. Anyone can go into a jewelry store and buy you baubles, but this means something.” He loosened the buckle from the leather strap and folded her fingers over the silver work of art. “Think of me every time you look at that.”
“I don’t need a belt buckle to remember to think about you. I think about you all the time.”
“Oh, yeah?” He unbuttoned his jeans and let the fly down slowly. His focused gaze on her warned last chance to back out, but she had no intentions of doing so. The first time they’d made love, they’d had an audience. This time, there were no distractions. Just them.
She curled her hand at the back of his head and pulled him down for a kiss. He sipped at her lips tentatively at first, but then she bit down hard on his bottom lip in warning. His mouth took hers more urgently, his tongue tangling with hers and delving into every corner of her mouth. His hands at her back were rough with their work-hardened skin, but nimble and sure as he freed her bra clasp.
He pulled back from their kiss and yanked her shirt over her head, immediately pressing her back to the desktop and pulling her ass to the edge.
His hot, hungry mouth latched onto her right breast and sucked the nipple into a hard peak while pulling the other between his fingers.
She moaned, and his free hand found her mouth. “Forgot you were a loud one. Going to have to figure out what to do about that short of gagging you.”
He moved his hand away, and his hips wriggled at her thighs. She looked down her body and watched his cock spring free from his boxers. Thor’s celestial hammer was nothing compared to the magic of Ollie’s dick.
He wrapped her legs around his waist and breached her in a continuous thrust. “You are so wet. So ready.”
“Always ready for you.” If only he’d take the hint, and take her when he wanted her. She didn’t understand his tentativeness. He was born of people used to being aggressive to get what they wanted. Wouldn’t his woman count?
After a few slow, rhythmless thrusts meant more to stretch her than pleasure himself, he increased his tempo and lifted her ass a couple of inches off the desktop. “Mmm. I believe this is the first time I’ve had sex outside of a bed.”
He had to be fucking kidding.
“It’s true,” he said, obviously gleaning her thoughts off her. He rolled his hips and the end of his cock knocked on her gateway to oblivion.
Already, her eyelids fluttered and toes curled. She was worse than a boy at puberty. She could probably get off just from thinking about sex long enough. It hadn’t always been that way, though. In fact, she’d only been afflicted with the condition for approximately three weeks.
He thrust again, and when she screamed, he set her back down on the desk and put that hand back over her mouth. “Shhh.”
“As if I can help it!”
“I’m flattered. Really.” His wolfish grin verified such. “Wrap your legs around my back and hold on tight.”
She did it, and he pinned her wrists together over her head, covered her mouth with his mouth, and fucked her.
This wasn’t a gentle reconnection or sensual bonding of mature lovers. This was desperate claiming. He didn’t just want her, but needed her, and her him, so she let him take it.
The hard desk against her spine and tailbone didn’t matter. Her cramped shoulders didn’t matter. Her fear of her station didn’t matter, as long as he took what he needed.
“Tess…” he whispered against her lips as her body writhed beneath his. Her fingers splayed and curled over her head, but had nothing but the air to dig into.
His rhythm faltered, breath hitched.
Then, he filled her. His cock pulsed in her as he expended his seed, and she thought of the children they’d make. His. Harvey’s. Theirs.
Their future leaders, bringing the rest of the outcasts home to roost. Reuniting them to form the strong clan they should be.
He laid a tender kiss on her temple, and whispered, “I’m yours, Tess. Me. Only me. Do you hear me?”
She heard him.
She didn’t respond.
* * *
Tess climbed the net and threw herself over the side of Ótama’s ship. She sighed as she settled next to the woman at her usual place by the mast.
“How lovely,” Ótama said, pointing to Tess’s newly enhanced belt.
“It’s Ollie’s. Since I’m on the subject of him, he doesn’t get it, and I feel like being too candid will drive him away.”
“Perhaps caution will be best. Trust your instincts. I cannot divine the future, but I will say that to my knowledge, there has never been a queen whose mate rejected her.”
“Well, I don’t want to be the first, so slow and steady seems to be the way to go. I hope Ollie can deal with that. Can I ask you something?”
“You can ask me anything. I cannot promise I will be able to answer.”
“I’m just wondering if there’s ever going to be a point where I’ll cope with all the mental chatter without having Ollie around. I know he’s supposed to be a helpmate for me, but logistically, how am I…” She tugged at her hair, groaning. “Fuck, I can’t even walk way from him for five minutes to brush my teeth without getting weighed down by all the demands on the web. On those nights when everyone decides to watch the news all at once and get depressed by what they see—I can hardly keep my heart in my chest for all the stress. But, I’m supposed to be the one honing in on it and filtering it all out! How can I?”
“It is your grandmother’s job to soothe the hurts, sweeting, not yours.”
“Huh?”
“I believe we have isolated one of your problems. I suspect you are doing as she did and acting as both conduit and filter. You cannot. You can sift out the rocks, but let all the sand pass through to her.”
Surprisingly, the metaphor made sense. She knew exactly what Ótama meant, but it was something she’d need to get into the swing of. Tess had learned to “do it” wrong, and now had to break the bad habits.
“I feel like I’m teaching myself as I go along, and am failing at it,” she said. “Nan’s not affected by the heaped-on emotional shit from the outsiders, so she can’t walk me through my job. What she would do doesn’t apply to me.”
Ótama pursed her lips and drummed her fingers atop her swollen belly. “I believe you are more like me than like Muriel. Your particular blend of powers will be difficult to learn and wield, especially without close guidance. I am certain that is not what you wish to hear.”
“You’re right. It’s not.”
“I am sorry. If I were there in the flesh, I would be so humble to be at your assistance.”
Tess laid her head on Ótama’s shoulder, and the ghost rubbed her hair.
“Stop choking what is coursing through you. You are afraid of it, and should be, but you must form a truce with it.”
A truce. Tess couldn’t even recognize her own personality within it all anymore. Maybe that was what being queen meant—that she had to sacrifice who she was to be something more.
“Choose the people around you carefully until you have a better idea of what your limits are,” Ótama said. “They will be more forgiving of mishaps, and there will indeed be some. If you do feel out of control, I would suggest you try to ride out the power rather than tamping it down. That way you know where it begins and ends.”
Tess tensed. “I gave Jody a little zap a couple of weeks ago, but you’re saying I could…I could really harm people.”
Ótama didn’t answer immediately, and by the time she did, Tess figured she already knew the answer.
“Especially your men,” Ótama said. “It has been a very long time since one of our men has had to put his mate’s power in check.”
In check? Tess had grown familiar with the temperatures of emotions in recent weeks. When the web was happy, she felt warm. Excitement gave her hot flashes. Sadness had
a coolness about it. The coldness she felt now that permeated down to her bones could be nothing else but fear.
She didn’t want to know any more. Scared to know more, but had to. She wasn’t a cowering queen.
“That’s why I have two mates. I’m going to hurt them, aren’t I?”
“I cannot see the future, but take this to heart. Do not try to hide your power from them. They need to know the taste of it, bitter as it may be.”
16
“Yoo hoo, Earth to Gilisson. Earth to Gilisson. Come in, Gilisson.” Jeff snapped his fingers repeatedly in front of Ollie’s face. Ollie didn’t know how long the man had been trying to get his attention. He couldn’t help zoning out. Before he’d met Tess, his focus was the sharply honed instrument expected of a man descended from a line of fighters. But now…
Jeff snapped again. “Yo! Someone could lop your head off in the time it’d take you to see them in the mirror walking up behind you and pulling the blade.”
“Sorry.” Ollie rolled his capped bottle of water beneath his palm and fixed his stare on the television mounted in the corner. The Diamondbacks were stinking up the stadium. Big surprise.
“Wanna talk about it?”
“Nothing to talk about. Me being here isn’t what you think.” In fact, he’d avoided Jeff for a week so he wouldn’t have to have this conversation. What could he say? He was well and truly pussy-whipped by a woman he’d known in the flesh for less than a month, and he didn’t even care. He’d do anything for Tess, even call her “queen.” Fuck.
They’d spent a blissfully uninterrupted week getting to know each other, sans accompaniment.
Every time he entered a room, she lit up. No one had ever done that for him before. At first he thought she just needed him for his mental shield, but then he realized, she only threw herself bodily at him half the time. The other half, she’d smile and wave, and turn her attention back to whatever it was she was concentrating on before he interrupted.
She was a woman of few pretenses. If she wanted something, she asked for it. “Ollie, I need your help.” “Ollie, could you hold me?” She was slightly more subtle about sex, though. He could never tell if her aggressive cuddling was meant to be foreplay, not that he complained.
