by Kate Pearce
“You don’t come until he does,” he said.
She must have been moving too slowly, because he hauled her up and positioned her over Ollie’s shaft.
She enjoyed being manhandled by these two more than she should have. Maybe it was because when they were outside of the bedroom, they were too careful with her. Appearances required a certain act from all of them, and the truth was that most often, she preferred being told what to do. She was born to be a leader, but didn’t enjoy being in that role all the time.
Sometimes, she just wanted to be handled.
Ever helpful, Ollie righted his dick for her easy access.
“Nice to see you two working so well together,” she mumbled as she sank slowly onto Ollie.
“Like Ollie said,” Harvey let go of Tess and eased himself off the foot of the bed. “You surrendering is a huge turn-on.” He gave her a little swat to the bottom and walked to the bathroom. “The extra pair of hands to get you there helps.”
Ollie gripped her waist and rolled his hips, stretching her even more. “How are you feeling? Ready to run from us?”
“Ready to stand and fight, darlin’.” She lowered her torso onto his and dug her knees into his sides as she rode him. “Or lie down and fight. Mmm, I don’t want to fight though.”
“You want to come.”
He didn’t need to be a psychic to know that.
He rolled them over without even slipping out of her and took her lips in a breath-stealing kiss before tossing her ankles onto his shoulders. He grabbed her by the hips and rocked in and out of her in short thrusts.
Harvey returned from the bathroom and sat on the bed’s edge. His gaze lingered at the place Ollie’s cock met her cunt, and he swallowed hard.
Briefly, she considered opening up her mind and reaching out to him to see what he was thinking, but before she could decide, he bent down and pulled her nipple into his mouth.
“Fuck!” Tess spat, and her hands grabbed whatever they could.
“Don’t forget this,” Ollie said. Now that he’d stretched her well, he thrust deeper, and longer, forcing a yip from her at the peak of each joust. She didn’t know what the “this” Ollie referred to was, and really didn’t care.
Gods, having both of them tend to her at once was a sinfully decadent thing. She already knew their amazing mouths, fingers, and cocks would become her addiction, though hopefully, not her downfall. She couldn’t very well sit on her throne—which was a special rolling chair in the conference room—and a dick at the same time.
But damned if she didn’t feel free and safe when she was between them—like nothing else was important as long as they were touching.
Harvey pulled her clit between his fingers, and lifted his mouth from her breast to whisper, “Shhh,” when she cried out. He flicked his thumb over her wet peak, and she had to bite down hard on her lip to stifle her expletives. For them to not want her to win the orgasm race, they certainly seemed to be trying hard to send her over the edge.
When Harvey leaned in and kissed her, she thought, “Fuck it,” and let go. She moaned into Harvey’s mouth and scratched at any parts of them she could reach—Ollie’s thigh, Harvey’s wrist over her belly.
Ollie went right along with her, his cock expending his seed into her sheath and his fingers digging into her hips. “Impatient, isn’t she?”
Harvey eased off her and sat up. “One of few annoying qualities, though easy enough to correct.”
“I agree. It’s expected, though. She’s been running wild for too long. It’s about time she belonged to someone.”
Tess sighed. “I’m right here, guys, and I have ears. Hi.”
Ollie let her legs down and gave her a rakish wink. “Hi, baby.”
Now it was his turn to walk to the bathroom.
Harvey eased onto the bed beside her and nestled her against the front of his body. “It’s okay to belong to someone, Tess. I like it.”
She snuggled her ass against him and allowed her body to relax, muscle by muscle. “Me, too.”
She doubted he heard her. His breathing had gone slow, and arm over her waist limp.
Ollie returned, studied their position in the middle of the bed, and groaned. “Are there beds built for this kind of thing?”
She patted the space in front of her, and he took it.
“We could always keep separate rooms.”
“We could pretend to for the sake of public relations. Tongues are going to wag enough as it is.” He folded her hand in his and closed his eyes.
A moment later, he was asleep, too.
Somehow, Tess didn’t think she was going to make her flight, and she didn’t really care. Before she succumbed to sleep, too, she reconnected with the Afótama web and reached out to Nadia. “Need a new flight.”
Nadia returned a sleepy, mental sigh. “Are they fighting again?”
Tess chuckled quietly. “Only to see who can snore the loudest.”
20
Tess climbed up the secret staircase into the living quarters at the Norseston mansion high-spirited and laughing. It was good to be home.
Home. When had she started thinking of it as such? Maybe she hadn’t known how to recognize the thrill because she’d never really had a home before. Places to live, yes, but no place where she felt she belonged.
Harvey, at the front of their four-person queue, opened the door at the top of the stairs and Nadia followed him through, only to walk into his back when he stopped abruptly.
“What’s wrong?” Tess climbed to the landing and nudged Nadia out of the way.
Standing in the hall with her hands clasped behind her back and wearing a drawn expression was Nan. “I’m glad you’re home safely,” she said quietly.
Tess couldn’t get a read on her, but her gut said her grandmother was angry. But, at whom?
Ollie pulled Tess clear of the staircase and shut the fire door. “What happened, Muriel?”
“We’re not certain of anything just yet, but I think it’s time we took a closer look at who comes in and goes out of Norseton.”
“May I speak frankly?” Harvey asked.
“As long as you do it aloud. Funnily enough, that’s the more secure communication method at the moment.”
Harvey nodded. “You said who comes in and goes out. Are you including Afótama in that number?”
“Yes.”
“Our security as well?”
“Especially. In your absence, Tess, I put all the staff on paid administrative leave. Joe and Jody are working to clear them one at a time. So far, only Lora’s back.”
Tess ducked out of Ollie’s shadow and joined her grandmother’s side. “Where are the rest? If they’re all gone, why are we having a stealthy hallway conference?”
“They’re on leave, but most are in the area. I don’t know how many are in the building at the moment. The butler has an apartment in the basement, and I couldn’t exactly throw him out of it.”
“Here I was, thinking you were going to yell at me and Nadia for traveling unescorted, but it seems we have a much bigger problem. What is it?”
Nan shook her head. “It’s probably a good thing you didn’t take staff. Until we know for certain whom we can trust, stick with sure bets. Nadia, Jody, your uncle, or one of your men.”
Tess’s cheeks burned hot at her grandmother’s use of the word “men,” but she should have known Nan wouldn’t judge. Nan was a practical woman. She might have even suggested Tess take both as lovers and dazzle them so they’d call off their stupid challenge.
“Under no circumstances are you to go anywhere alone.”
Tess opened her mouth to speak any one of several complaints, but Ollie clapped his hand over it. “Baby, everyone knows you’re the queen, but the folks in this hallway know she’s the lady in charge.”
Of course.
“I don’t think she’s bossing you around because it’s her birthright, but because she’s your grandmother. I doubt she wants to lose any more of her famil
y”
Nan nodded. “Thank you, Oliver. We can move to my sitting room, and I’ll lay out all the facts I have.”
They followed her down the hall filed into her soundproof suite. Tess’s rooms were nowhere near as kitted out. She hadn’t had time to approve the upgrades, though she’d certainly be making it a priority as soon as the staff was back.
Nadia leaned against the desk edge.
Tess sat in the middle of a Viking sandwich on the plush sofa.
Nan settled primly onto her antique wingback chair and straightened her screen-printed three-wolf-moon T-shirt. Tess would have laughed at her grandmother’s eccentricities if the mood hadn’t been so solemn. Nan cleared her throat. “The last time we had to clean house like this, Tess, was after you went missing. We’d like to keep this as quiet as we can to keep the Afótama web calm. If we can handle this swiftly, no one outside the inner circle will catch wind of it.”
“What happened?” Tess got a sinking feeling.
“Fiona’s boy Ricky went missing yesterday. I thought perhaps he left the complex and got lost, but—”
“No.” Tess shook her head. She knew that was wrong because she felt him, thanks to Ollie. She always felt a general disquietude from Fiona because of her illness, and she wouldn’t have noticed if the other woman’s stress shifted from one kind to another. She’d learned to more or less tune Fiona out when she surveyed the web. The children, though—they were different.
She hadn’t felt a disruption from Ricky because Ricky didn’t know anything was wrong. He thought he was safe with whomever he was with, and Tess didn’t know if that was good or bad.
“And I’m the conduit, so it’s my job to figure out where he is, isn’t?”
“It won’t be easy,” Nan said. “When I was in your place, I couldn’t track the children. I fear we may be up against the same enemy, and one who knows far too many of our secrets.”
“Plucked off from the inside.” It took all the fortitude Tess could muster to keep her terror from leaching into the web. She wouldn’t be able to keep this up, and everyone would know soon that something was wrong.
“No, no, no.” Ollie grabbed her hand. “I’ve got you.”
“Thank you.” With his help, she compartmentalized her thoughts and stored them away. It was easier now that she knew where to put them.
“Use all the help people willingly offer you, Contessa,” Nan said. “The queen’s power is a mighty thing, but grows when she has a lens to direct and multiply it.” She pushed her glasses onto her nose and stood. She rummaged through the tubes of rolled maps in the stand by her desk and pulled out the one she sought. “You have two lenses. I think your odds of success in all you endeavor are remarkably high.”
Harvey squeezed Tess’s knee and gave her thigh a reassuring rub. “We will succeed.”
Tess couldn’t help but to grin. “We, huh?”
His smile in return was predatory and drop-dead sexy. “We’re sharing, Tess. Remember?”
How could she forget?
The Afótama Legacy continues this winter. Sign up for Holley’s paranormal romance newsletter to be notified of the release of The Chieftain’s Daughter. Turn the page for a sneak peek.
FROM THE CHIEFTAIN’S DAUGHTER
Of all the parts of the body to find scintillating, it was fingers that intrigued Harvey Lang the most. His queen’s, and lover’s, fingers were long and elegant and rarely still. Even when her lovely face displayed no signs of her inner turmoil, her hands did. She drummed her fingers or threaded them between each other in different configurations. She traced unreadable scribbles on tabletops and on the back of his hand. She laced them through his hair and made knots while she pondered the day’s dilemma. Her fingers were rarely still, even in her sleep.
It wasn’t her fingers driving him to distraction in the Norseton royal’s mansion’s library, though—at least not this time. His gaze fell on the fingers of the person skillfully dismantling and cleaning a semiautomatic Beretta pistol.
These fingers were calloused and rough. They were bronzed from sun exposure, and scarred from thirty-eight years of mistakes. When balled into a fist, those fingers could disfigure a man. He’d learned that firsthand.
Harvey’s own fingers moved to his bruised jaw and rubbed it. The damage could have been much worse if it weren’t for Tess’s intervention.
She knelt in front of him, snapping her fingers in front of his eyes. “What world did you drift off to?” his queen asked.
“You really want to know?”
She offered him one of her rare grins, and immediately his blood drained south to his cock. She seduced without even trying and had lips that inspired carnal thoughts.
As her hands inched up his thighs, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. Her mouth opened for him, and he let his tongue trace lazy figure eights around hers.
Just in time, Tess’s cousin and aide strode into the room and closed the heavy wood door behind her.
“What’d I miss?” Nadia asked. As always, she wore black from neck to toe, but no leather for once. She must have been letting it breathe.
From the front of the room, Tess’s other lover said mirthfully, “We were talking about the missing Ricky Freberg and other items of group importance.” Ollie winked at Nadia and started reassembling his gun.
She cut her gaze to the lounger and scoffed. “Right. I just bet it was all business. I’m surprised you didn’t join in, Ollie.”
“If you hadn’t come in when you did, I would have gotten up and played lookout.”
“Uh-huh, sure. Lookout.”
He grinned daringly. As he was big and broad and built something like a sequoia tree, that sly smile should have looked dangerous. It should have made people want to take a few big steps backward, and maybe it did work that way with outsiders.
It made Nadia groan and Tess make a little moan of appreciation.
It made Harvey pull a pillow onto his lap, not for fear the other man would see his cock’s distress, but because he half caused it.
They’d fought it out only to recognize that there was room on the royal dais for three.
Tess was too much woman for any one man.
And Harvey...well. Tess was the only woman he’d ever loved. He couldn’t love another woman. He’d tried for ten years. He discovered somewhat inadvertently that he could, however, love another man.
ABOUT HOLLEY TRENT
Holley Trent is a Carolina girl gone west. Raised in rural coastal North Carolina, she has Southern sensibilities but her adventurous spirit drove her to Colorado for new experiences. She writes contemporary and paranormal romances ranging from sensual to erotic that are usually set in her home state.
She’s a member of EPIC, Romance Writers of America, as well as Passionate Ink, Colorado Romance Writers, and CIM-RWA: the Cultural Interracial and Multicultural special interest RWA chapter.
The Viking Queen’s Men is the first story in the planned five-book Afótama Legacy series. If you like her modern Vikings, you’ll love her superheroine private eyes and misunderstood sex demons. For Holley’s complete backlist, including titles from Musa Publishing, Crimson Romance, and Lyrical Press/Kensington, please visit her website at http://www.holleytrent.com.
Eager to chat about The Viking Queen’s Men or another Holley Trent book? Catch her online on Twitter where she tweets under the handle @holleytrent or fan her Facebook page.
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TAMING THE VIKING’S DRAGON
by
Shawntelle Madison
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AUTHOR’S NOTE
Normally I write about werewolves in the Hadley Werewolves and Coveted series, but I couldn’t resist writing a Vikings and dragons story once Steinn and Drifa started talking to me. I fell in love with this world and its characters and I can’t wait for you to join me on the ride. The past has been cruel to Drifa and
Steinn, but love has a way of bringing to broken hearts back together. If you enjoy reading this tale, be sure to please join my mailing list. There are more adventures to come in the future.
~ Shawntelle
1
That damn stubborn dragon would be the death of him.
The ice dragons from the northern frigid lands of Niflheim required two riders. That knowledge became all the more apparent when the beast Steinn Eriksson rode bucked hard to the right.
“Shit!” His sword swing whistled through the air, missing the raider by mere inches.
The beast snarled beneath him, soaring toward the ground to gain momentum.
“Damn it, Knurre!” he roared. The dragon snorted in reply. As if it cared.
The raider, riding a dark, crimson-colored fire dragon soared low against the rocky outcroppings. Out here in Muspellheim’s Outlands, among the dunes and craggy active volcanoes, there weren’t many places to hide. But what his enemies made up for in the lack of hiding places they used sheer numbers to accomplish. Four other men circled behind him. He didn’t need to see to know their location. The sounds of their dragons’ wings as they re-grouped into an attack formation were all too clear.
He had a far larger, stronger beast. And yet the dragon continued to defy him and remind him that he was missing his second rider.
Two raiders dived, their dragons hissing. From the corner of his eye, they swept in from the right. As they approached, the grip on his sword tightened. He’d damn well not die in a stubborn dragon’s hands. He dug his boot heels into footrests on the wide leather saddle and veered right. The dragon went left. Claws from a nearby attacker swooped through the air, barely missing his head. Another set scraped against the mail armor on his shoulders and ended up raking his left shoulder blade.
He grunted. The pain was immediate.
