Ravished by a Viking (20 page)

“I’ll take it,” she whispered, tears spilling from her eyes and her throat tightening. She wouldn’t tell him how crippling the fear of leaving him was. He thought her strong. She knew she’d want to cling and cry against him, but she’d have to remember to raise her chin and give him a smile. “Words are nice, Dagr. But my body burns for you.”

His tongue stroked between her labia. “Your body melts. But I will make your skin burn.” He kissed her again, and then a stinging slap landed on her right cheek.

She gasped and jerked against her bindings. Her heart fluttered in panic, then surged again as heat redoubled inside her body. Giving a sexy moan, she undulated, arching her back as far as possible given the restraints.

Another slap to the opposite side was followed by a firm rub of his palm. “I can see my fingers on your skin.”

“Give me more. Make them distinct. When I look at my ass, I want to remember how strong and large your hands are.”

His fingers spread over the mark he’d already made, then lifted, tagging the same spot.

Her bottom felt on fire, and she knew welts would rise, perfectly aligned. But thoughts of the future, of poignant physical reminders that she would carry with her for a short while, faded as the burn built beneath her skin, making her quiver and shake.

She panted noisily, unable to catch her breath as he struck her, over and over. She tossed her head, groaning, felt the slide of liquid excitement trickling from her pussy, moistening her lips, dampening her belly as it spread across the padded bench.

He slapped her again, and then rubbed his face against her, his fingers gripping her thighs hard. His movements stopped.

Her breath caught, and she tightened her thighs on the step, waiting because she could hear his harsh pants and wished she could turn and wrap her arms around him. But she suspected he wanted it this way, didn’t want for her to see him lose even a little of the shield he kept around his heart.

“I need you,” she said, her voice tight.

The bindings around her ankles gave. He blanketed her back and reached for the cuffs at her wrists and released them.

Then he was rising, lifting her from the bench and carrying her to bed where he laid her in the center and followed her down.

His ice blue eyes, always so chilly, were wild and wide. His skin was a hectic red. She embraced his face and pulled him down, slanting her mouth to kiss his, strumming his lips with the tip of her tongue, then stroking inward. The kiss was soft, exploring, as she tried to calm him with her mouth while her hands petted his face, stroked his hair and his shoulders.

When at last she encircled his large body with her arms and held him, he sighed and sank onto her. Her breath caught as she took his weight.

His eyes darkened. He deepened the kiss, his tongue tangling with hers while he groaned and his body ground into hers.

Honora opened her legs, bending her knees so her thighs cradled his narrow hips. His body drew back, his cock pressed against her center, and the blunt head drove between her folds and plunged deeply.

Her body sensed a difference in his actions. She arched beneath him, her breath leaving in rush. As he drove relentlessly into her, his breaths shuddering, his face still wild, his expression desperate, she knew he’d broken.

Rather than let him know that she knew, she pulled him closer and snuggled her face into his neck, kissing him, licking him, biting at the end when his whole body quaked and his cock grew more rigid. Warmth flooded her channel.

Honora squeezed her eyes shut, fighting tears. Her breath tightened in her throat. She’d won his love; she knew it. But she also believed he might never voice it.

In the end, it really didn’t matter. She’d never wanted love in her life, never expected it. But love in the form of a tall, proud Viking had found her. The knowledge of that love was something she’d hold close like an unspent treasure.

Seventeen

When Dagr’s explosive release ebbed, he froze atop Honora, wondering what had happened, not understanding—or wanting—the emotions rolling over him. Queasiness grabbed his stomach. He felt as though a sea serpent had butted his skiff from beneath him, tilting him crazily toward thin ice.

His body tensed, growing rigid, and he planted his hands on the bed on either side of Honora’s shoulders and lifted his chest from hers. His gaze remained firmly on her hair, because he couldn’t meet her eyes. Not yet.

Something had happened. And he knew exactly when—between the moment he’d decided to give her everything she wanted and when he couldn’t bear to strike her one more time.

His hand had lain against her skin, which he’d watched redden, turning a deep, bruised pink, and he’d rebelled. Even knowing this was something she’d begged for. His chest had tightened; his heart thudded dully against his breastbone and he’d bent to rub his face on her, shutting his eyes tightly, his stomach knotting in revolt.

Even now, Dagr had the overwhelming urge to draw her close, bury his head between her breasts, and never let her go.

Instead, he withdrew, clamping his jaw as his cock slid from the warm haven of her pussy. He rolled to his back and hid his face in the curve of his arm.

Honora lay beside him, her breaths every bit as ragged as his. She quivered, her shaking continuing unabated for several long seconds.

He uncovered his eyes, stared at the ceiling, and willed himself not to care. Instead, he extended his arm, inviting her to roll close, and then cupped her against his side. “We should sleep,” he said, his voice gruff.

As she nodded, her cheek rubbed against his chest.

He kissed the top of her head and let out a deep breath. “I will find you. When this is over, I will search for you. Wait for me.”

“Wait, like a woman should?” Her body tensed. “Wouldn’t it be easier for me to stay with you?”

“There will be a battle. I want you away from the fighting.”

After a long, pregnant silence, she said, “If we part, I’m afraid we’ll never find each other again.” Her fingers slid over his stomach. “Or that you’ll ... get busy. You do have a kingdom to run.”

He grunted. She didn’t know her worth. He wouldn’t tell her how important she really was to him. If he failed in his quest, ignorance might be a blessing.

Birget eyed Cyrus and Roxana, amused by the female pirate’s wariness. The woman had lost her bravado. Her skin was pale beneath the dusky pigment. For his part, Cyrus’s whole body betrayed tension. A snarl twisted his mouth, and he bit out orders like a dog barking as it circled its prey. The transfer of the containerized ore was complete. A smaller portion had been delivered to the saloon for the purchase of the cat-woman’s papers, should she choose to use it for that purpose. Something Birget had shaken her head over. She couldn’t imagine a fuck being worth that much.

Then again, eyeing Baraq’s lean, muscular frame, she couldn’t deny that physical attraction was a very strong motivator. Baraq hadn’t sought her out again, which seemed to increase her awareness of him, and she wished for another chance to take him inside her body and prove that she was made like any other female and capable of climaxing while riding his cock. Tension swirled in her belly. He was beautifully made. Wondrously strong—even for an Outlander.

Baraq’s gaze sliced her way, and his brows lowered in warning. He stood beside the gangway, eyeing activity on the dock. As long as they remained on the planet, they were vulnerable.

Birget gave up trying to keep her distance. The pull of her attraction fueled her moves as she strode reluctantly his way, wishing he seemed a little happy with her company.

His gaze scanned her impersonally, then returned to the gangway. “What are you doing here?”

She pouted, angry that he wasn’t as eager to see her as she was him. “You’re my companion, remember? Dagr gave you to me.”

“I’m not yours,” he ground out, a muscle in his jaw jumping.

Birget couldn’t resist the urge. She leaned against his chest and traced the length of his nose with a fingertip, drawing his hard, dark gaze. “You could be,” she whispered.

Baraq snorted, and closed his fist around her hand, squeezing, warning her to behave, and then dropped it. “How? Do you think Dagr would enslave me to you? Wouldn’t he worry about his brother’s claim?”

She shrugged a shoulder, pretending unconcern. The same worry had been spinning in her head ever since they’d had sex. “You’re not a Norseman. He has nothing to fear. You’re far inferior to our men.”

Baraq rolled his eyes, but a smile tugged the corners of his lips. “Then why bother yanking my leash, Princess?”

“I should have collared you, just as Dagr did your captain. Speaking of which ...” She said the last bit under her breath.

Dagr approached with Honora beside him. She didn’t miss the way the Wolfskin king cupped his captive’s elbow. The man was always touching her, pulling her close for an embrace, or simply following her with his sharp blue gaze.

His obsession with the woman met with amusement among his men, most notably Grimvarr, whose expression seemed to hold a hint of pride whenever he beheld them, which had her wondering why.

Birget sniffed. Their relationship would soon be at an end. Did Honora believe this was anything but an interlude, a tryst to stave off boredom?

Frakki ran up the gangway, his face alight with excitement. “Captain Dagr,” he called out loudly.

Dagr waited for him. “The
Daedalus
is supplied?”

“Yes, and the ore is safely in the hold. We’re ready to transfer crew.”

Dagr looked around at the men gathered in the cargo bay. They’d been told the crew would be divided up—one half moved to the civilian transport, the rest remaining aboard the
Proteus
. Dagr hadn’t informed them of the assignments yet. Whoever remained on the
Proteus
would suffer capture by the Consortium.

Birget wasn’t eager to be imprisoned, but she would accept whatever assignment Dagr gave her. She’d insisted on accompanying the wolves, had fought alongside them. Her own people were among the captives whose freedom they sought.

Still, she was as tense as the men gathering around to hear Dagr’s final decision.

Dagr’s glance swept the Vikings. He was the only one relaxed among them. His features were set, his frame still. “You know this vessel can’t follow the
Orion
without attracting the attention of every Consortium ship in the sector.”

Heads nodded. Square jaws firmed. Birget felt a burst of pride to be standing among such fearless warriors. Their story would be heralded for ages. She hoped she’d be around awhile to brag.

“The transport we’ve purchased is unencumbered and, as a private vessel, can approach Helios’s solar system without drawing attention. That doesn’t mean that those who crew the ship won’t face mortal dangers.

“If you’re able to catch the
Orion
, you will have to take it by force. If it arrives at Helios before you catch up, then you will have to slip into port by stealth to rescue the men.”

Dagr’s expression grew grimmer; a muscle flexed at the edge of his strong jaw. “Those who remain on the
Proteus
face an uncertain future. We will draw away the armada so the transport can slip through it without anyone making the connection between the two ships. The
Proteus
will flee, possibly drawing fire. If we survive the race, we will be captured. I do have a plan for escape, which I will discuss with the men who stay with me only after we’ve left Karthagos.”

“You will need crew capable of piloting the other ship,” Birget broke in.

Dagr gave her a tight smile. “Yes, and Cyrus will be its captain.”

In an instant, Cyrus stepped into the circle, his hands curling at his sides. “I’m not leaving you, Dagr.”

Dagr gripped his upper arms. “Friend, if the Consortium finds you aboard the ship, you will be dead.”

“As will you.”

“Perhaps, but like I said, I do have a plan. I need you on that other ship.” His hands dropped away from Cyrus, and his steady gaze cut toward her. “Birget ...”

She jerked, and then stiffened, wondering what menial responsibility he would give her. “Yes, Dagr.”

“You will accompany him.”

Her breath caught for just a second. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or not. “Of course. Whatever your wish,” she said, surprising him and herself with her quick agreement.

One corner of his mouth lifted. “As the captain of the
Valkyrja
, you are accustomed to leadership. You will be in charge of the mission to rescue my brother, your future husband, and the other captives.”

Her jaw sagged just a fraction before she strengthened it and straightened her shoulders. Pride warmed her heart. “I’m confused. You’ve resisted allowing me any place on this ship. From the moment we met, you’ve belittled my skills.”

“You’re strong, resourceful, and brave—as you’ve proven every time you defied me. And you are a noble, born to lead.” He nodded to Baraq. “You will act as her next in command and her personal guard. If anything happens to her, it will be your head.”

Baraq gave him a curt nod.

Birget held still to keep her excitement at that assignment a secret. Baraq didn’t look her way, and she didn’t dare glance at him.

“They’ll have only a skeleton crew,” Honora said, once Dagr confirmed that the rest of the
Proteus
’s crew would remain aboard the ship.

“But enough to point the ship where needed. Cyrus will be stretched, but he has assured me that whoever captains the ship has everyone he needs so long as my men follow his directions.”

Worry bled from Honora’s face. “You kept my crew away so they wouldn’t hear the instructions.”

“The less they know, the better. I am assuming they’ll be interrogated.”

“Are you going to tell me your plan?”

He shook his head.

“Let me guess,” she said, a smile that wasn’t a happy sight curving her mouth. “The less I know, the better.”

He pulled her against his side, and she rested her head against his chest.

Birget gave a soft snort.

“So she takes comfort from him,” Baraq said under his breath. “That doesn’t make her weak.”

She turned to study his taut features. “Are you envious of what they share?”

One dark eyebrow rose. “I’m envious that her burden will be so much lighter than mine,” he drawled.

“Grimvarr.”

As Dagr’s attention moved on, Birget at last shared a charged glance with Baraq. Tension had eased from his face. Was he happy to remain with her?

A hand touched the small of her back and she breathed deeply.

Grimvarr stepped closer to Dagr, his hand on the hilt of his sword. “Cousin?”

“I would have you travel with them. My brother’s fate is uncertain. I risk imprisonment or death. You are our heir. It’s best we travel separately.”

Grimvarr’s upper lip lifted in a fierce snarl. “I belong with you. Who better to watch your back?”

“Don’t argue.” Dagr sighed. “
Please
, cousin
.
Birget may be in charge, but you are the highest ranking among the wolves after me. She will have need of you to ensure the loyalty of the men. She will rely on your counsel.”

Frakki stepped forward. “You will not leave me behind,” he said, his deep voice growling.

Birget grinned at the bearded man’s intense scowl. She had no doubt Frakki would battle Dagr himself if his king tried to leave him behind.

Dagr smiled and reached out to clasp Frakki’s forearm. “We will face this together. I trust you with my back, friend.” He divided the rest of the wolves, sending to the transport only one of the Outlanders, besides Cyrus—a crew member with navigational experience.

Birget hesitated before breaking away to join the men heading down the gangway to the other ship. “If you need to grab your belongings, say your good-byes ...”

Baraq shook his head, aimed a glance at Honora, who gave him a teary smile, and then turned on his heel to follow the rest of the men down the gangway.

Which left Birget hovering, waiting for Dagr to spare a moment for her to speak with him.

When he’d finished with his men and those staying on the
Proteus
broke up to head to their assigned stations, his head turned her way. “Still here?”

Birget frowned, grateful he’d said something to piss her off because she felt the strange urge to cry. “Thank you.”

Dagr’s expression showed no softness, just his usual hard, stoic face. “Birget, if you don’t want this responsibility, the only other option I can offer you in good conscience is to leave you with enough ore to buy your passage back to New Iceland.”

Be excluded? No. She squared her shoulders. “Dagr, I know I’ve defied you and have given you no reason to trust my motives or my good sense.”

“You wanted to be seen as your own person. Not a woman who would be a pawn. I understand.”

“You’re more magnanimous than I would have been.”

A brawny shoulder lifted. “I was stubborn. I should have given you respect and appropriate responsibility. But I am sending Grimvarr and Baraq along with you because they are both experienced fighters. Grim is young, but he trained under me. He thinks before he acts. And I’ve tested Baraq’s mettle. He’s strong and intelligent.” A finger jabbed the air. “If they advise you, listen.”

She nodded. The moment to leave was upon her, but she didn’t know how to say good-bye. Should she say her farewell to her brother or her king?

“Still here?” he repeated, more softly this time.

A dark brow arched, but she didn’t miss the deep inhalation. Maybe she’d gotten to him as well. Taking a risk, she stepped closer and slid her arms around his waist.

He was slow to return the embrace, but his hug was hard, breath-stealing, and he lifted her off her feet for a moment, before letting her back down.

Birget sank against his chest and accepted his embrace, taking strength from him.

Dagr pressed a kiss against her forehead and released her. Then he slipped the black amulet he wore around his neck over his head and dropped it over hers, pulling her braid through it and touching the stone where it lay against her chest. “From this day, you are my sister. And a Wolfskin. Have pride in both your families.”