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Authors: Delilah Devlin

BOOK: Ravished by a Viking
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In the end, Kit had the cure. A single digit penetrated his ass and stroked over the small gland deep inside him until he showered Honora in ropey bursts of cum. He stroked Honora long after he’d pumped himself dry, unwilling to lose the hot friction burning his cock.

Finally, she pulled him down and kissed him, framing his face with her hands and diving between his lips to caress his tongue with long strokes of her own.

He rested on his elbows, cupped her cheeks between his palms, and kissed her more gently. Her eyes slowly opened, blinking up at him. The red blur of her lips, the pink tinting her bronze cheeks, and the sheen of sweat slicking her skin made her lovelier, sexier, than he deserved.

He turned to Kit. “How much to buy your freedom?”

“Was I that good?”

“I don’t like to think of any of my sex partners enslaved.”

She blinked, a wariness entering her expression as she sat up and ran her fingers through her hair. “Even if I were free, where would I go?”

“I have a castle full of warriors who would find your many differences enticing,” he said, not fearing that he’d revealed too much about himself.

“You would free me from being a whore here to make me one for your Vikings?”

Dagr frowned. “You would have your choice of lovers and you may learn a craft, earn your own way.”

“You have other half-breeds in your employ?”

“None. Ours has been a sheltered society.”

“And I should welcome being the freak among you?” Kit shook her head. “No, thanks. I’ll take my chances here.”

Dagr sighed, seeing her point. “My thanks, Kit.”

Kit drew a deep breath, thinned her lips, then met his glance again. “Roxana has you waiting for one called Horace. But he will only tell you that you seek Fatin. She was Roxana’s partner, but she betrayed Roxana and robbed her of a valuable cargo. Delivery was to happen here, but Fatin heads straight to Helios. She thinks she can get a better price and that they’ll actually let her penetrate their airspace because of what she carries.”

“What is the name of her ship? What class?” Honora asked, shrugging at Dagr. “We have to know we’re still talking about the same ship.”

“A freighter class ship called the
Orion
. She has a day’s lead on you.”

Dagr bent and pressed a hard kiss against Kit’s mouth. “My thanks again, lady. I’ll arrange payment to be delivered. Enough to buy your freedom should you change your mind.”

Kit nodded. “Roxana shouldn’t be trusted. She’s a pirate in her own right.” Kit placed a hand on his arm. “If she thinks she can gain by serving you to the Consortium, she will.”

Fifteen

Below in the tavern, Honora and Dagr found Birget with Baraq and Roxana’s two flunkies knocking back shots of liquor and laughing uproariously.

The two henchmen were glassy-eyed, and it didn’t take but a glance at the floor to figure out that both Birget and her guard were spilling their drinks on purpose.

Dagr grabbed a wooden chair and sat.

Honora, heat creeping into her cheeks at Baraq’s pointed glare, slid into a seat across the table from him.

“Roxana’s still above?” Dagr asked.

Birget nodded, the movement crisp. Alcohol hadn’t dulled her edge.

“Roxana’s a go-er,” one of her men slurred.

Dagr lifted a shot glass and clinked it against the talkative pirate. “Roxana own more than the ship Fatin stole?”

The man stiffened and shot a heavy-lidded glance around the bar. “Shhh ... No one’s s’posed to know. ’Bout Fatin. Bad fer bizss-ness.”

“No sign of Horace?”

The man snickered. “Horace is hiding. Roxana will cut out his innards if she finds out he knew anything about Fatin’s plans.”

Irritation simmered in Dagr’s narrow gaze. “Then why are we here?”

The man next to the talker elbowed his friend.

The talker rubbed his belly and gave him a scowl. “I need ’nother drink.”

“You’ve had enough,” his companion growled. “Roxana’s gonna cut off your balls.”

Dagr nodded to Baraq. “I’m heading to the privy.”

“The privy, he calls it,” the merry pirate laughed. “It’s a frigging pisser.”

“Shut up, will ya?” his friend said, growing pale beneath Dagr’s pointed glare.

“She’s pretty, even if she makes me dick shrink,” the man said, raising a glass to Birget. “Seein’ as how ever-one else had some fun, what ya say?”

Birget snarled, stood, and clapped the man across the temple with the hilt of her dagger.

He slumped, his head thudding onto the table.

His friend swayed in his seat but nodded. “Thanks. He was annoying the piss out of me.”

Honora tilted her head toward the man and eyed Birget, whose slight nod indicated she would follow her lead. Then Honora slipped into the seat on the other side of the pirate. She leaned in, unzipped her skin-suit, and let the sides peel open, exposing her cleavage. She waved a hand at her face. “I’m so hot. Must be the alcohol. Drank too much,” she said, laying her head on his shoulder. She placed her hand on his thigh and squeezed.

His leg jumped, then both eased open. He pressed his hand over hers and moved it over his cock.

The smirk beneath his long-handled mustache made her skin crawl. “Oooh, and I thought the Viking had a big one,” she said between clenched teeth.

“I’m Black Bart. Been a pirate all me life. Do what I want. Takes what I want.”

Honora smiled and rubbed his chest. “Seems to me you’re under Roxana’s heel. She snaps her fingers and you obey.”

His upper lip curled into a snarl. “The bitch holds me ship. Can’t leave port without her say-so.”

She widened her eyes. “You have your own ship?”

“I contracted for cargo, but she let the bitch Fatin take what was mine.”

“So your ship’s still here, docked, until Roxana snaps her fingers again and tells you to go?”

He aimed a deadly glare her way, and his fingers squeezed painfully over hers, holding her harder against his groin. “I think I want me some Consortium ass.”

Honora leaned back as he bent forward to kiss her.

She hadn’t known Birget moved, until a blade beneath his chin made the pirate freeze.

Birget leaned in and wrapped her elbow around the pirate’s head. Anyone seeing them from the back would think they’d all kissed. “This ship of yours ...” she said softly, scraping his chin with the point of her blade. “What’s it called?”

“The
Daedalus
.” The pirate glared. “But what do you care? You can’t take it. Karthagos’s docks are well guarded. It’s part of why we do business here.”

Birget leaned closer and licked the side of the pirate’s face. “No reason, pretty boy. Just wondered where your berth was.” The pirate lifted an eyebrow, his gaze sweeping over Birget’s long frame. He let go of Honora’s hand.

She wiped it on her skin-suit, making a face.

Birget leaned toward the pirate, her lips pursed, but then she clipped his jaw with a fist.

He slid down bonelessly in his chair.

“We leave them for a moment and already they’ve found trouble.”

Honora glanced over her shoulder to find Dagr, Baraq, and his two Vikings leading a disgruntled Roxana.

The pirate eyed her unconscious men. For the first time, fear tightened her features.

Honora’s gaze slid to Dagr and her heart skipped a beat. She didn’t miss the narrow-eyed look he aimed her way.

Let’s go,” Dagr said, annoyed at lingering in this soulless place, and angry at yet another woman who’d managed to put a spoke in his progress. His small contingent walked out onto the street, heading back to the ship.

“You can leave me at my office,” Roxana said breathlessly, tugging at her arm.

Dagr didn’t release his hard grip. “I think not. We have need of a ship. You have a fleet.”

“Not a fleet. Really,” Roxana said, breathlessly as he pushed her along. “Only a few ships. Nothing in port at the moment.”

“The
Daedalus
is docked and empty of cargo,” Birget said. “That’s what we got from the pirate at the table.”

Dagr shook Roxana, wishing she were male because he really needed an enemy he could go a round with. “Lead us there.”

Her head lolled forward, and then snapped back, her black braids swinging. A snarl curled her lips. “It’s docked three berths from yours.”

Dagr grunted and pulled her along beside him. “Why’d you waste my time, waiting on Horace?”

Her mouth tightened into a thin line.

“Have you already sent word to the Consortium of our whereabouts?”

Roxana lifted her brows. “How could I?” she drawled. “I’ve been with you ever since we met.”

Dagr studied her expression, wondering if she was really as good a liar as she thought.

“Gods, I know that look,” Honora muttered. She patted Roxana’s shoulder with false sympathy.

Dagr turned his glare on her, and Honora raised both hands in surrender.

The trip back to the docks was made in silence, everyone in the party aware of the many gazes following their progress from behind curtained windows and from slanted rooftops.

“You know you won’t get away with this,” Roxana said, dragging her heels. “If they see you forcing me aboard your ship, you’ll never get clearance to leave.”

“Forcing you?” Dagr said. He pulled the woman against his side and draped his arm around her shoulder. “Smile or I’ll strip you here in the alley and have you. It won’t be rape, you know it, but it will certainly prove your willingness to be with us.”

Roxana snorted, then smiled slowly—not a hint of humor reaching her hard eyes. “I think I hate you.”

“No, you don’t. Your heart leapt at the thought of being taken against a wall, everyone watching. Tell me another lie.”

The gangway loomed. Roxana pulled back, digging in her heels. “I won’t go aboard.”

“What have you to fear? Once we are beyond the stratosphere, we’ll transport you back.”

Her body went rigid. “You’re taking one of my ships!”

“Borrowing. And I’ll pay for the use.”

“You think you have enough money aboard your ship to pay for one of mine?”

“I have a king’s ransom of pure light.” He couldn’t help biting out his words.

Roxana stared into his eyes. “You’re telling me the truth.”

“His brother, the one your Fatin kidnapped, is a prince of New Iceland,” Birget said. “He’s willing to pay you for the ship, and forgive you for your involvement in the crime. Take his offer.”

Roxana’s face drained of color. She stepped from beneath his arm and straightened her shoulders. “Why didn’t you kill me?”

Dagr met her gaze, let her see his quiet fury.

She backed up a step, but he grabbed her arms again and pulled her close. “Killing you,” he said, bending over her so closely their breaths intermixed, “though satisfying, would not help me find my brother. I want your ship. Something that won’t attract attention for its ... particle waves.”

Roxana nodded her understanding. “Very well. I’ll give the checker a nod. You needn’t hold me. I come willingly.”

Dagr gave her a cold smile and turned to Baraq. “Tell Cyrus he will remove himself and one container of ore from the
Proteus
.”

Roxana gasped. “Cyrus ...”

Dagr’s sharp gaze lanced her. “Onto the ship, Roxana.”

She shook her head. “This Cyrus ...”

“A man in my employ. Get on the ship. You’ve already promised your cooperation.”

Her jaw sawed shut, but she strode up the gangway. Inside, Roxana hung back, her gaze sweeping the Vikings who were busy using a crane to lift one container of ore onto a cart for delivery to the other ship.

Honora lingered, watching Roxana’s strange behavior. When Cyrus shouted to Dagr and slid down the ladder, both feet bracketing the rungs as he glided down, she saw the woman’s face blanch.

Cyrus gave the party arriving a quick glance, then swung back to Roxana. He stepped closer, his expression hardening, daggers in his eyes.

Roxana swallowed hard. “Hello, Cyrus.”

“You two know each other?” Dagr asked, his glance cutting between the two.

“She’s the one who owns my papers.”

“The woman who kept you as her slave?”

“Her thrall,” Cyrus ground out.

Roxana’s chin rose. “You were a well-compensated thrall. I paid you portions of my takes. You were earning your freedom. I wasn’t the one who enslaved you to begin with.”

“That didn’t stop you from using me for your pleasure.”

She raised a dark brow. “I don’t remember you minding all that much.”

Honora watched, transfixed by the roiling emotions that caused Cyrus’s expression to harden and the lady pirate’s to pale.

“What’s she doing here?” Cyrus asked, his gaze never leaving hers, a muscle in his jaw jumping.

“She’s here to ensure our departure,” Dagr drawled. “We’re purchasing one of her transport ships too. We’ll need it to get to Helios.”

“What about her?”

“I told her she’d be transported back to the surface once we were clear.”

Furious red blossomed in the centers of his cheeks. “She’s mine, Dagr.”

“I don’t go back on my word,” Dagr said quietly.

“I’ll sell you his papers,” Roxana said, directing her words to Dagr. “Along with the ship. He’ll be free and clear to travel anywhere in the known universe, a free man. Right now, he has a bounty on his head.”

Dagr turned to Cyrus. “What do you want to do?”

“I want to enslave her,” Cyrus said between clenched teeth. “Make her bow to me the way she forced me to endure a hundred indignities.”

Dagr shrugged. “You’ve earned the right to her.”

“B-but we have a bargain,” Roxana sputtered.

Cyrus smiled, but the gesture didn’t reach his eyes. “If I didn’t owe Dagr a debt, I’d keep you. But we have need of only your ship. Sell it and my papers to Dagr. Then we’re through ... for now. One day, I’ll return and we’ll settle our personal debt.”

Roxana drew herself up. Her chin tilted high.

If Honora hadn’t had tons of recent experience, she wouldn’t have recognized the look on the other woman’s face. There was longing there ... and arousal.

Cyrus and the dread pirate Roxana ... Honora snorted.

Cyrus swung his head toward her, his eyes narrowing into a bitter glare.

She lifted her brows in innocence. “Did I say anything?”

He stomped off.

Honora cleared her throat to get Dagr’s attention. “So who will pilot the
Proteus
?”

Dagr’s face, while still hard and unyielding, softened, so slightly only she recognized it. “We have mutual interest in recovering the hunters’ ship. But we both can’t follow it. Roxana’s transport is our best solution. The
Daedalus
will still need a distraction, something to lead Consortium ships down another trail.”

Honora’s stomach dove toward her toes. “You’re talking about letting them get a whiff of the
Proteus
. You would sacrifice it?”

“Where is the sacrifice? We will only run so far.”

“You want me to captain the ship, lead it away from my higher command. You would trust me to do that? To openly defy them?”

“I would trust you with more, but you won’t have to prove yourself. I will remain aboard your ship, along with several of my men. Enough to sustain the plausibility that we were responsible for the capture by ourselves.”

Honora felt light-headed and drew a deep breath. “But they’ll imprison you. No matter that you’re a king.”

“For a time, perhaps. But I have a plan.”

“This is foolhardy. Insane. Go with Cyrus. I’ll stay here long enough that the other ship can be well away before I meet up with the armada.” Her breath hitched around the lump in her throat. “You don’t have to sacrifice yourself.”

“And I promise that is not my intent. I have two purposes, Honora. First, I must recover the captives. But I must also strike at the heart of the Consortium or they will never leave my world alone.”

“But you can’t win.”

“Because they have ships and superior weaponry?”

She took a deep breath to reassure him, but let it out. “Well, yes.”

“They don’t protect their homes, their families. They don’t have as much at stake.” He clenched his jaws. “They underestimate us if they think that my demise, or my wolves’ demise, will end the conflict.”

Fists tight at her side, she stared into his eyes. “You talk about dying as though it doesn’t matter.”

“Every life matters. But how you spend it, what you stand against, defines you. I will not surrender. I will not allow any Outlander to dictate how I live or die.”

Honora felt a burning at the backs of her eyes and swung away from Dagr.

When his hand closed around the top of her shoulder, she tried to jerk away, but his arm encircled her waist and pulled her against his belly. He nuzzled the side of her cheek. “I promise I don’t intend to commit suicide.”

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