Her Viking Wolf (7 page)

His fated mate was in heat.

Now not just the moon, but also her mating call burned in his blood. ‘Twas fortunate for him the medicine man had left his pants and sword to lie in the front room of the building, or else he would not have had the presence of mind to grab them both as he followed her smell out of the entrance.

His nose led him to a cabin made of wood, less than half a
rast
from the place he had been kept. However, after he let himself in, though he could smell her everywhere, he could find her nowhere on the premises. Finally, he threw open a door that led into another below-ground room, much like the one he had been placed in himself.

And when he reached the bottom of the steps, he found his beautiful mate, writhing on a floor matted with black cushions, her hand moving in an out of her womanhood, her face twisted in the pain of sexual need.

Fenris had not thought it possible to be more aroused than he had been with the scent of his fated mate’s heat in his nose, but seeing her like this made his manhood jump and swell further to the point of pain, to the point that he could not be certain he could take her without going
beserk
in the way of a warrior in a blood-frenzy on the battlefield.

He breathed deep, seeking the warrior’s control over his wolf, even as it growled to be mated with the she-wolf he had crossed time to retrieve.

She stopped with a gasp, removing her hand from her puss, and staring at him in horror. A moment of shocked quiet, and then she began to shake her head back and forth, speaking her strange language, so rapidly he doubted he could have understood her even if he spoke her tongue.

It made little matter, though. The time for words had come and gone. He went to the cage and jerked at the door, only to find it locked.

He rattled it, expecting the wide-eyed she-wolf to bid him entry. But she merely stood there, shaking her head, even as he could see her heat, dripping from her womanhood, all but begging him enter.

He shook the cage door and demanded, “Open this door.”

But she backed into the corner, as far out of his reach as possible. Cursing, he once again untied the cord around his neck. He worked the lock with a hunter’s focus until the door swung open, finally allowing him entrance.

His she-wolf scrambled, talking loudly at him in her language, words he did not understand but could comprehend despite not knowing her tongue.

“You deny your need for me?”

She shook her head and said many more words, only one of which he recognized. “Rafe.”

“You would speak his name to me when I am your fated mate,” he snarled.

She looked up at the ceiling and then back at him, conveying through body language that she was exasperated before speaking more words.

“No,” he declared, cutting her off. “I am your fated mate. I would have us join now without delay and then return to my own land, once I have planted my seed within your belly.”

But when he made to step to her, she scrambled away from him, darting toward the open door in a move that so surprised him, she almost managed to escape.

However, his warrior’s reflexes did not fail him. He caught her by the waist just as she got one foot through the door and in two more moves, he had her on the floor, pinned beneath him.

A wolf with less control would have taken her right there, protests be damned. But his fated mate looked up at him with such fear in her eyes, it gave him pause. He bit back against his own need, shoving it down as if it were some little thing and not the beginning of the mating frenzy he knew it to be.

“Shhh,” he said, making the same soothing sound he used to calm his horse when she became agitated. “I will not hurt you, and I would not have you fear our mating.”

She gasped out a few more words, and he felt her arms moving between them, struggling to break free. But eventually she stopped squirming beneath him, and then she lie there, breathing hard.

Fenris smoothed a hand over her hair, waiting with a patience he did not feel for her to calm herself. And even when her breathing slowed to a regular pace, he continued to lie there, allowing the fear to fully evaporate, so she, too, could come to understand the obvious.

They were the only two un-shifted wolves in the village, they were fated mates, and they would be consummating their union before the sun dragged her chariot across the sky.

LESS THAN SEVENTY-TWO HOURS AGO, Chloe didn’t think things could possibly get any more awkward. She was a twenty-five year-old virgin she-wolf who could barely stand to kiss her alpha prince fiancé, because she hadn’t gone into heat. Then a time-traveling Viking showed up to claim her as his fated mate. She had begun to think surely her life couldn’t possibly get more messed up than that.

And then she had unexpectedly gone into heat and been found attempting to masturbate her way to relief by the Viking she was currently trying to convince to go back to his own time period without her.

At that moment, there was really nothing left to do except get angry. “
C’mon
! Cut a she-wolf a break, why don’t you?” she said to the Viking. “Are you seriously here? Are you seriously,
seriously
here in my basement?”

But her anger was soon replaced with fear when the Viking advanced on the cage.

“No-no-no-no-no!” she said holding up her hand in the universal sign for stop. “Do not come near me. I am not letting you in here, so you can just get that idea out of your head right freaking now.”

He throttled the bars and said something in his language she was sure translated to, “Let me in, woman.”

She scrambled to the back of the cage, pressing herself flat against the basement’s brick wall and willing it to absorb her. Her nether regions were still throbbing with need, but her mind knew she had to wait for Rafe to shift back into a human and come claim her.

What was the Viking doing un-shifted anyway? And out of the clinic’s cage, which doubled as their town’s jail, and which Doc Fischer had assured her he’d be put in before the moon set?

She soon had the answer to the second question, when he untied the medallion from around his neck and used it to let himself into the cage she’d hope would keep her protected from him.

The fear inside her gut doubled in size and though she knew it was a long shot, she ran for the door, hoping to get upstairs fast enough to lock him in the basement, which had a deadbolt that wouldn’t be easily surmounted by a necklace.

But just as she made it to the cage entrance, he grabbed her by the arm and the next thing she knew, she was pinned underneath him. Man, he was fast for a big guy.

“No!” she cried. “I don’t care what time period you’re from, I’m not going to let you rape me.” She fought to free her hands from between their bodies, so she could go for his eyes. But he adjusted himself, somehow redistributing his weight so she not only couldn’t free her hands, but also couldn’t squirm any part of her body, except the one screaming at her to let him fuck her. Right now.

She looked up and away from him, refusing to meet his eyes as he forced himself on her. But...

...nothing happened. In fact, the next thing she felt was his hand, smoothing back her hair. His breath was hot on her face, but calm, not the ragged affair of someone about to do his worst to a woman.

Her eyes slowly lowered to meet his, and she found him gazing back at her, his own gray eyes soft with infinite patience, as if he had all the time in the world to wait her out.

She felt her heartbeat slowing down as she got lost in that gray gaze of his, and soon she became uncomfortably aware of the large piece of male anatomy pressed against her folds. She could feel its heat, even through the cloth of his basketball shorts. Her own heat called out in answer with an urgency that scared her even more than the idea of possibly being forced to mate with him against her will.

“No, no, no, please,” she whispered, trying to hold on to thoughts of her fiancé, but her body seemed to have a mind of its own and she could feel her hips begin to move against his as if divorced from her better nature.

And maybe she could have gotten herself under control, forced her body to stay still beneath his despite her state of arousal, but when he covered her mouth with his again, her last shred of decency flew away into the night.

This kiss felt like coming home, like water on a hot day, like bread fresh from the oven, the start of a perfect meal. She undulated underneath him, and he made a harsh sound, his Old Norse now coming out hard and fast. He lifted up his chest enough to allow her the use of her hands, which she laced into his long hair, pulling him down for more of his drug-like kisses.

But soon the kisses grew to be too little. She needed him inside her. It hurt so bad that he wasn’t already there, something deep inside her ached in such a painfully sweet way that she soon found herself begging for what she had tried to escape just a few minutes ago.

“Please, please mate with me,” she said now, hating herself for her loss of control, but feeling she would die if he didn’t—

He pushed inside of her with no warning, accept for the feel of his hands gripping her sides as he did so. And she cried out against the arc of red-hot pain that shot through her core as he tore through the barrier protecting her virginity.

He kissed her several times as if to mitigate the pain, saying something in Old Norse between each one, and she found herself feeling grateful for his kisses. They distracted her from the pain below, which soon began to fade.

His eyes then drifted down to her breasts, and bent his head to kiss one, lathing her nipple with his tongue. He then sucked on it so hard, she could feel a corresponding tug below, as her legs came up to fold around his waist, for reasons she didn’t quite get until she felt him sink into her even deeper.

They both groaned as he thrust into her again and again, his hard body rolling into the cradle of her thighs. She held on to his forearms, her own hips involuntarily moving into his, seeking relief from the sweet fire burning in her womb. “I need, I need, I need…” she said, not quite able to put a label on it.

He captured her lips with his again, and rocked into her with a long, slow thrust, causing her to moan when the rub of his chest shot twin bolts of electric pleasure though her nipples.

Every single inch of her felt swollen with desire, but also tight with need. She couldn’t stop herself from mating with this man, even though he was more or less a stranger to her. When she tried to consider pulling away from her, her body went crazy in protest, thrusting her hips into his even harder as if to punish her for even thinking such a thing.

But then he pulled out himself.

“No!” she cried.

But he made the same sound he used to quiet her down before. At the same time, he easily flipped her on to her stomach, and she barely had time to scramble to her knees, before he was on her again. This time ramming into her from behind in what she recognized as the most primal of mating rituals.

The man, she realized, had taken her virginity in missionary, so as to lessen the pain of her breaching. But the wolf inside of him would settle for nothing less than a full mounting. All softness disappeared from him then as he fell over her back, his thick erection sliding in and out of her as he grunted above her.

Whatever shred of humanity had allowed him to take her gently before was gone now, and for Chloe, who couldn’t move beneath his heavy body, it felt like being claimed by some sort of flesh-covered beast.

Their sex had taken such an intense turn, she should have been scared out of her mind, but something primal in her responded to this position. She could feel the mating knot now at the base of his penis, hard and unforgiving, and pressed against her G-spot in ways that made it impossible to regret what she was doing. She actually felt the inside of her vagina swell around his wolf knot, keeping him locked in place as he rutted her.

And then came the thing she hadn’t quite known she’d been waiting for…her eyes rolled and her breath caught in her throat as wave after wave of the most intense pleasure she had ever known slammed into her. Then she was breathing again, but he was still moving into her, one large calloused hand covering her breast as his thrusts became faster and faster. And to her astonishment another orgasm began to overtake her.

White noise filled her head and in the distance, she could hear somebody screaming. Only when the orgasm began to fade away did she realize it was her.

Her arms collapsed underneath her and she fell to her elbows, unable to hold herself up anymore. Everything on her body felt like quivering jelly, but despite this, her pussy kept clenching around his cock, milking it with hungry wantonness, her wolf not caring who this Viking was or what promises she had made to another.

And when she felt the hot stream of cum begin to release inside of her, another orgasm began to overtake her, this one ripping through every part of her body as his seed flooded into her hot and strong, spilling into her womb and sending her human over the edge. She screamed and cried, babbling nonsensical words until finally the vise of pleasure began to ebb away, and there was nothing left but her and the Viking on the matted floor of the cage.

His face was now pressed into the back of her neck and he was making that soothing sound again. “Shhh,” he said. “It is done. We are mated.”

She trembled underneath him, but she felt her heartbeat once again slowing down as she came back from whatever wild place the mating had sent her. “That was so…” She didn’t have the words.

“Yea, for me, as well.” With more gentleness than she would think a man his size could possess, he arranged their bodies, so they were lying on their sides, with him behind her, still embedded inside her swollen folds.

Every wolf knew what happened on heat night, that it was called such because after the mating, the wolf and his mate, stayed physically locked in this most intimate embrace “into the night” or thirty to sixty minutes, if you were being completely technical. But still, it was slightly embarrassing to feel herself involuntarily clenching around his thick unit, refusing to let it go until it had milked every drop of cum from him.