Ravished by a Viking (11 page)

Birget reached above her for the pillow and shoved it beneath her head to elevate it so she could watch as he thrust his fingers inside.

However, his face moved toward her sex, and she snapped her knees up to halt him, catching his shoulders.

He raised his head, eyebrow arched. “I take it no man has ever taken you in his mouth?”

She shook her head. “I know it’s done, but ... it’s embarrassing.”

His lips twitched.

“Laugh at me and I swear I’ll cut your throat.”

His gaze softened. “I would never laugh, Birget. I’m honored to be the first to give you this pleasure.”

She thought she should tell him he was her first in every pleasure, but didn’t want him stopping, or, worse, mocking her later, after he’d gotten what he wanted from her. Perhaps he wouldn’t even notice she was a virgin.

Fingers opened her and tugged her lips upward. He blew air at her sex and it touched her bared clitoris, causing her to jerk.

Wet fingers smoothed over it and again she jerked.

Looking up, he said, “Sensitive, are you?”

She nodded.

“This better?” He held her gaze and stuck out his tongue to lick softly at the round, red button.

Her belly and thighs quivered, but this was bearable and so pleasurable she felt close to bursting. His tongue swirled again, and she came off the mattress. “Baraq!” she cried out as darkness closed in and bright sparks exploded at the center of her vision.

When she stopped groaning and pulsing against his mouth, she realized his mouth suckled her, there between her legs. His tongue soothed her clitoris while his hands, one beneath her ass and the other petting her stomach, squeezed and caressed.

Birget raked her nails through his short hair and he glanced back up her body, lifting his mouth and grinning. “I had to brace you with my weight to keep you pinned to the bed. You’re strong.”

She met his smile with one of her own. “A Viking’s peak isn’t a gentle, rolling slope.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He kissed her belly and crawled up her body, looking like a lynx stalking prey, and her breath shortened again. This time, she reached up and smoothed her hands over his hard, muscled chest, then spread her fingers to sink into his hair. “It’s soft as silk.”

“Nothing else is soft,” he growled. He dug his cock into her belly to emphasize the point.

She swallowed hard and scraped her fingertips down his belly, enjoying the play of his muscles, rippling as she scratched by. Again her fingers spread and tugged at his hair. “Not so silky here,” she said softly. Lord, she could already imagine how the wiry curls would feel against her pussy.

He growled and kissed her hard. He lifted his mouth an inch from hers and stared into her eyes. “Put me inside you.”

Breathing hard, her thighs quivering around his hips, she centered the blunt knob of his cock at her entrance, then swirled it around, wetting it.

Air hissed between his teeth and he leaned his forehead against hers. “You’re killing me.”

“Make it quick,” she whispered.

He made a sound between a groan and a laugh, but as soon as she pulled her hand away, he leaned up on arms, dug his knees into the mattress, and slammed inside.

Honora strolled around the bridge, resetting systems to kill the shrill chirping of the alarms.

When they all quieted, Frakki sighed his relief. “My thanks, lady,” he said in his oddly growling voice.

She shrugged. “The sound was getting on my nerves too.”

He sat at the communications console. How simple a thing it would be to flick the command feed switch and let some ensign on a listening post hear what was happening on her ship.

Cyrus wasn’t here. No one would be the wiser. Her hand hovered for a moment, but Frakki lightly wrapped his fingers around her wrist, his gaze boring into hers.

“Think before you act,” he said softly, turning his head in Dagr’s direction.

She inhaled and nodded, then moved away. If she had flicked that switch, what would it matter? The ship would be surrounded by small, deadly war cruisers, and then the negotiations would begin.

If a reasonable ransom could be reached, her ship would be returned, another cadre of officers transported to assume command.

If the ransom were unreasonable, or if command thought an example should be made, the Vikings would be given a choice to surrender or to die. Her officers’ and her crew’s lives wouldn’t enter into the decision of whether or not to destroy the ship in retaliation and set a more terrible example.

In the end, her life was over whatever the disposition of her ship. Humiliation wasn’t the worst that would happen. Execution would be the punishment for her abject failure. She’d been duped into abetting the kidnapping of a prince.

She took a deep, shuddering breath.

“Honora.”

Dagr’s voice pulled her as though he tugged an invisible chain. The heat of his gaze warmed her. She read desire and connection in that glance.

That sense of connection was no more real than the reflected lights twinkling on the viewing screen. Her reaction made no sense. He wasn’t her savior. Still, she walked close enough that he snagged her hand and pulled her onto his lap, tucking her against his body, and she gladly accepted his embrace.

Cyrus strode onto the deck and his eyebrows rose, but he didn’t comment.

“Cyrus, tell us both what you found,” Dagr said.

Cyrus eyed Honora again but took a deep breath. He stepped off the dais and strolled to the navigator’s console, touching the screen to open files he’d stored in the corner. A manifest filled the screen.

“A ship called the
Orion
docked with the
Proteus
yesterday and took on unspecified cargo. The
Orion
is the only ship they’ve welcomed in weeks. The last resupply was a month ago. It has to be the one the bounty hunters left on.”

Cyrus glanced up at Honora, and she nodded, seeing no point in denying it. “I didn’t know the name of the ship. Never inquired.” She cleared her throat. “Part of the cargo they took on, the ‘specified’ cargo, was equipment for salvage. They’ll trade it at Karthagos, one of the feral colonies along the frontier—a no-man’s-land so far as the order of law is concerned.”

Cyrus nodded, his glance warming in approval of her cooperation. “I’ve calculated their speed, using the specs of the transport craft, and figure that we can reach the planet right on their asses. If we can catch them in the port, we can either pay ransom for the Icelanders’ return or take the ship in a raid.”

They both turned to Dagr, whose face betrayed nothing. His eyes, however, sparkled with excitement. “If you know all this, why aren’t we already on our way?”

Cyrus grinned. “I wanted your approval because the moment I cloak the
Proteus
, every Consortium ship in the sector will be hunting for us.”

Dagr’s hand tightened around Honora’s waist, and she felt his chest expand. “When do we reach Karthagos?”

“We’ll be snaking through a wormhole later today, same one the civilian transport will have taken. Then we’ll skirt the outer edge of the armada guarding the frontier. We should arrive at the planet tomorrow afternoon.”

“You say that so casually,” Honora said. “And yet I’d wager you’ve never been there.”

Something flickered in Cyrus’s eyes, but then he shrugged. “Neither have you.”

“We aren’t criminals ... or weren’t. Karthagos is a dangerous place. Filled with hybrids, some so far from human they aren’t recognizable. If the bounty hunters have friends there, they’ll have a huge advantage over us.”

Dagr rubbed the back of her neck, soothing her. “They don’t have wolves at their backs.”

She shared a slow smile with Cyrus. Sometimes, Dagr sounded guileless, but she knew he was far from that. He had an unshakable confidence in himself and his people. Her earlier trick, removing the gravity, had shown her how adaptable they were.

Cyrus turned away. “Turk, set the cloak.”

Turk’s young face betrayed a moment’s doubt. He darted a glance at Honora.

“Do it,” she said, quietly. “We’re already committed. We’ll follow this through.” She blinked when his expression cleared and a lopsided grin split his face. She snorted. “Just like a man to think going ‘a-pirating’ is a grand adventure.”

The fall of the cloak was imperceptible, but once it was in place, Turk set a new course, and the planet revolving slowly below them grew smaller on the viewing screen.

Dagr tensed under her.

She leaned back to read his expression. “You’ve never been off your world before, have you?”

His jaw tightened, and he shook his head.

Honora reached up, cupped his cheek, and looked into his eyes. “It’s as much in my own interest as yours to retrieve your brother and the other captives. I’ll help you.”

“No more tricks?” he asked, his voice sounding slightly strained.

“You have most of my crew on your planet. I wouldn’t endanger them for the sake of my pride or my life.”

Dagr’s hand cradled hers and he brought it to his lips. His kiss was gentle. “Is there anything Cyrus will be needing us for until tomorrow?”

Her mouth curved. “Not a thing he shouldn’t be able to handle by himself unless we run across a Consortium ship. But he will need relief.”

“Do you need sleep now, Cyrus?” Dagr asked, his gaze never looking away.

Cyrus chuckled. “Maybe later, if one of the women in the kitchens is obliging—Oh, ‘sleep’ wasn’t a euphemism?”

Dagr cut him with a glance that only deepened the other man’s laughter, but didn’t bother with a reply. He rose from the chair and pulled Honora after him as he strode out into the corridor.

She didn’t have a chance to catch her breath. When the lift doors closed, he cupped her ass and brought her up his body, where she wrapped her legs around his waist. When the doors opened, he cupped her head and bent forward beneath the low ceiling, stalking steadily toward her door.

She appreciated having such a strong lover. Baraq had been the strongest until now, and thrilling in his own way, but he’d been too aware of the difference in their ranks. Dagr didn’t give a damn that she was captain of her own vessel, that she commanded a crew, had bested countless other hopefuls to earn her station.

He carried her through her door and took the three steps to her narrow bed and set her on her feet. His hands made quick work of his clothing. “How did Baraq take you on such a small bed?”

Honora blinked, surprised he knew about her affair with her security officer. She dropped her own clothing on the floor. “His bed is no bigger than mine. Bent knees shorten the frame. And you can put the pillow against the wall and sit.”

He snorted. “When we are done, I will take you on a real bed.”

When we are done ...
He talked like they had a future. But they didn’t. However, she didn’t mind so much him pretending. “I would like to see this great big bed of yours,” she said, stepping in front of him, close enough her nipples grazed his chest. His icy-cold gaze made her quiver, but there was heat in the hands that closed around her waist.

His hands smoothed up her back. One cupped the back of her head, the other a breast, which he molded against his palm.

“I like this. Being naked with you,” she whispered.

“I like being inside you much better.”

She smiled. “How much do you trust me?”

His eyelids dropped. “I am guessing enough to allow you close to my balls.”

She snickered, then bit her bottom lip. “Give me the pillow?”

His chest rose sharply, and he bent to snag the pillow. She grabbed it, and stepped away, dropped the pillow in front of her, and knelt in the middle of it.

Dagr braced apart his legs and turned his hands on his hips as she settled and resettled her knees.

His dark brows drew together in a fierce scowl. “Do you make me wait on purpose?”

“Maybe ...” She glanced at him from beneath the fringe of her eyelashes. “What will you do if I don’t hurry?”

His mouth curved in a wicked smile. “Bestow a woman’s proper punishment.”

At the word “punishment,” her nipples prickled. “I take it that’s something most women avoid?”

“Most do.”

She bit her lip and tilted back her head. “But you smile.”

Dagr cupped her chin and rubbed his thumb over her lower lip. “I smile because I think you would do well with a little discipline ... applied with care and precision.”

Ten

Honora could only stare, her pussy clenching and fluid slipping down to wet her cleft. The shock and heat his statement had produced in her left her slightly shaken.

Dagr pinched her chin, forcing open her lips, grasped his cock just beneath the crown, and brought it to her open mouth. “I want your tongue greeting me.”

Honora shivered at the brusque texture of his voice, but never once thought to deny him. Holding his steady gaze, she stuck out her tongue and swabbed the smooth head, breathing deep to inhale the scent of his musk. She tried to bob forward to take more of him inside her mouth, but he held her back, letting her swallow only the tip. She rounded her lips, gripping him below the glans, and sucked. Her tongue stroked the broad head inside her mouth and caught a single bead of ejaculate. The hint of his salty, musky essence made her groan.

She resettled on her knees again, wishing she could sit on her heels to relieve the ache building inside her. Doing so would put her out of reach of his cock, and her mouth watered for more.

He released her jaw but kept his fist around his cock, letting her come only so far down the slick shaft. His fingers combed through her hair, soothing her, and she realized she moaned greedily, that she sounded desperate. And, fucking gods, she was.

She scraped fingernails up his inner thigh, listened to him suck in a breath as she neared his balls. She cupped the hard stones and squeezed gently.

His feet shifted restlessly, landing farther apart. He let go of his cock and both hands cupped the sides of her head, but didn’t force her, simply held her as she took him deeper in her mouth. She sank, letting his cockhead glide along her tongue until it hit the back of her throat, and then she swallowed, giving him a caress that had him pulling at her hair.

“
Elskling!
Sweet Frigga ...”

She came off him, and ran her tongue down one side, then up the other and back down again. She tilted his cock up and licked his balls with long, flat-tongued strokes, wetting them, then swallowing them both, mouthing them greedily while she fisted his cock and pumped it.

Dagr’s fingers bit into her scalp and pushed her back until he was free.

His eyes glittered dangerously, and she rose shakily to stand in front of him. The expression he wore—cheeks sharpening to blades, skin reddening with strain—caused her a twinge of unease, but the sexy kind—the kind where a woman knew a man was about to turn her inside out.

He shoved her and she lost her balance, landing in a sprawl sideways atop her mattress, her breath leaving in a whoosh. He moved between her legs, pushing them apart, and knelt on the floor.

Honora came up on her elbows, gasping as his fingers stroked over her folds, then sank deep. Her inner muscles clasped wetly around him, and she watched her belly quiver and jump as he bent to take her in his mouth.

Still on her elbows, she raised her thighs over his shoulders, and let her head fall back, savoring the tug of his lips and the girth of his thick fingers as they fucked inside her again and again.

His head rotated as he lavished her clit with swirls of tongue and nips of teeth. Her thighs shivered on his shoulders, legs tightening to pull at him every time he suckled her hard and brought her to the edge.

His fingers thrust deep; then he turned the pads upward, smoothing over the spot deep inside that made her go wild, bucking against his mouth, kicking her heels against his back.

When he pulled away, she was a quivering mess. “Please,” she moaned. “Please, Dagr, fuck me.”

“On your knees,” he said, his voice grating and tense.

She didn’t need to be told twice. She rolled swiftly to her knees and faced her cabin’s back wall, reaching up to brace one hand there, because if he slammed into her the way she hoped he would, she didn’t want her head hitting.

His hands cupped her bottom, smoothing over the globes, rotating them, parting them. She appreciated the massage, but wanted him to put something inside her where it ached. “Don’t tease. Fuck me.”

His mouth grazed her bottom, teeth nipped her skin, and she jumped.

“Dagr?”

He slapped her bottom, making her jump. “You are so impatient. Would you have me rush to do your bidding?”

Her cheek stinging, she glanced back, trying to read his expression, but his features were set, his eyes shadowed. What was the answer he wanted? Fuck yes, she wanted him to rush, but she sensed he tested her. “I don’t want to tell you what to do,” she lied, then suppressed a sigh of frustration as he turned her body to face him. Was he arranging her and rearranging her on purpose? Or was he really that indecisive?

The thought flitted through her mind, but never took root. When he leaned over her, his mouth an inch from hers, she couldn’t help the shiver that skittered up her spine. He wanted to keep her moving, uneasy, guessing at his intentions. The more he pushed her, the less resistance she could muster.

“Do you like it when I command you?” he asked, his voice and sweet breath caressing her ruffled nerves. “Do you want to be taken, Honora?”

“Yes ...” She groaned against his mouth, her eyelids drifting down.

“Will you be my sex-thrall,
elskling
?”

He spoke so softly she wasn’t sure she’d heard him right. But his gaze bored into hers, hot, hard, melting her from the inside out.

The idea of it shocked her, tantalized her. Was this a game? To be a sex-thrall was the lowest of occupations for a woman to take. And yet, to be in his thrall was exactly what she wanted. She licked her lips, delaying her answer.

“Will you obey me, whatever I ask of you?”

Perhaps she could negotiate. “Here, in this room,” she whispered. “Yes.”

He shook his head. “Not nearly good enough, thrall. If I want sex somewhere else, will you obey me?”

“Dagr ...” She groaned again.

His mouth drew closer, skirted her lips, and sucked on an earlobe.

She tilted her head, enjoying the sensations of his hot breath gusting against her ear, stirring her hair, the glide of his tongue as he followed the rim of her ear. Then he bit her lobe, causing her to jerk, and pulled away.

His gaze held hers, boring into her, frightening her just a little. “If you want sex ... with me ... you must obey.”

Blood pounding through her veins, Honora swallowed hard. “I will be yours,” she said, her voice deepening with tension. “Wherever you want.”

“
When
ever.”

She screwed up her face, knowing he’d expect her to keep her promise—no matter what. Could she trust that he wouldn’t push her past comfortable limits?

His steady gaze said he knew exactly what flitted through her mind. She drew in a deep breath, understanding that her answer was important, that their relationship, however long it would last, might set off in another direction. What did she ultimately want?

She trembled against him, imagining what surrender would be like. What being owned body and soul by a man like Dagr would mean. Again, her choice came down to trust.

And he hadn’t earned it. He’d threatened to behead her the first time they’d met. Had threatened her crew. And yet, even when he’d had the chance, had her alone and at his mercy, he’d seen to her pleasure before his own.

His fingers rubbed her ears; nails scraped her scalp. “It is not such a complicated question.”

But it was. And she knew she should take more time, but he wanted an answer, and she needed to give him one. Did he expect her to keep her promise?
Really?

He wasn’t asking for her to swear fealty to him. Wasn’t asking her to support his cause. Only to surrender to him as a man.

Heat rolled off his skin, warming her, arousing her. Her pussy melted and throbbed. Already her body was conditioned to do his bidding. What did it matter if she gave him the words?

He nuzzled behind her ear, slicked his tongue along the curve, and sucked her earlobe into his mouth again.

She tilted her head, quivering as he teased her. “Dagr ...” she said breathlessly.

“Be my slave, my thrall,” he whispered. “Give me yourself, without reservation, without thinking.”

Her nipples contracted, growing painfully hard. “I’m afraid.”

“Does that excite you?”

She shuddered. “Yes ...”

“Be mine ...”

She turned her head and glided her mouth along his cheek. “Yes ... yes ...”

Dagr pulled away, leaving Honora blinking, her legs sprawled open, her chest and face hot and rosy with arousal.

“Please ...” she said, her eyes filling, frustration tightening her face.

“Come with me,” he said, holding out his hand.

She slid off the bed and looked around for her clothing.

“Leave them,” he said, curling his fingers to beckon her.

“But we can’t parade naked through the ship. Someone will see ... and it’s chilly.”

“None of your crew will see you, and you won’t be cold for long.”

Her heart thudded dully in her chest, understanding this was her first test. “What about your men?”

“They will think nothing of your nudity. You will walk behind me and they will know you are enthralled.”

Her eyebrows lowered as she reconsidered her promise.

“Do you defy me already?”

“I thought you’d have a little more care for me than to humiliate me.”

“There is no embarrassment. My men, should we pass any of them, will admire you, but it is not my purpose to display your capitulation. I only seek more comfortable quarters. There is a larger bed in the spa room.”

He’d scouted out the gym? The one truly warm place on the ship. And the one made for physical recreation—of all sorts. “The spa’s on the first level at the other end of the ship ...”

“Your point?”

She took a deep breath. “We’ll be crawling down ladders and through hatches to get there.”

He curled his fingers again.

A breathless laugh escaped her. “We can hurry, right? You won’t make me walk purposely slow.”

He grinned, grabbing her hand, and opened her cabin door. The corridor outside was deserted, but he darted out, pulling her behind him.

“You’ve only been on board a day and already you have me completely throwing away all discipline,” she grumbled.

He laughed, and she smiled, bemused at the husky sound. Then he turned away and she had her first glimpse of his back. She sucked in a deep breath. Besides the muscles that bulged away from his spine and widened his upper back and shoulders, a large tattoo of a wolf, teeth bared and leaping upward, stretched from between his shoulders, down his back, the tail wrapping around his waist. The detail was amazing, every hair and muscle defined in black and shades of gray. A wolf to define the leader of the Wolfskins. Honora sucked in another breath and sped behind him down the corridor.

At the end of the hallway, Dagr looked back and gave her a wink, then climbed down the ladder to the lower level, waiting at the bottom with his hands holding the rings surrounding the ladder while she hesitated at the top. Beyond all good sense, he felt happy and free. Her disgruntlement amused him.

“I can’t do this,” she hissed.

“You do this every day,” he chided.

“I’m not talking about the ladder.”

He grinned up and gave her waggle of his eyebrows. “Would you deny me now? Before we’ve sought our pleasure?”

She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t suppose you’d look away.”

He didn’t move, didn’t change his expression, just waited for her to concede, knowing she would.

She descended quickly, and he watched her bottom quiver, her sex, still wet, glisten between her legs.

Her arousal fed his own and his cock rose painfully high, bobbing against his belly as they strode toward the open bay and the small gymnasium tucked at the far corner.

His cousin Grimvarr sat throwing runes in a game of chance with another man, as they guarded the containers. His head turned toward them, his eyes widened, and he climbed quickly to his feet. Both men straightened, their lips twitching as they scanned Dagr’s body, then Honora’s. He heard her groan behind him, and he winked at his men.

The gym was empty, but he hurried through it, to the room at the back where a low-lying bed that was only slightly thicker than a mat sat in the center of the floor.

“It’s meant for massage,” she said, coming up behind him.

He eyed a curved bench with two padded steps that stood at the end of the bed, then returned his gaze to Honora with an arch of his eyebrow.

She had the grace to blush, knowing well that her descriptions were only half correct. She cleared her throat. “It’s to hold your clothing.”

Only they both knew it was just the right height, just the right angle, for sexier forms of recreation.

“Your crew uses this room for sex, yes?”

“As you observed. There’s more room here. They book it in advance.”

“There aren’t many women aboard,” he said, his skin crawling at the implications.

“Most Helios aren’t strictly heterosexual.”

Dagr grunted. Most Vikings wouldn’t be so quick to admit their homosexuality or act on it so publicly. “The mattress, it will be comfortable enough for you on your knees?”