Ravished by a Viking (7 page)

Without breaking with his gaze, she squeezed her thighs together, trapping his hand. “I’m not some pleasure thrall.”

“Are you telling me this because you lack skill and fear I’ll be disappointed?” he drawled.

“I couldn’t care less whether you are disappointed,” she spat out.

He leaned closer and trailed his lips across her forehead.

She jerked and turned away, her chest trembling around her quickening breaths.

“Why do you resist me? We can both seek our pleasure. You are as aroused as I am.” He pressed his fingers harder against her sex.

Her head swung back. Stark longing mixed with rage were reflected in her amber gaze. “You are my enemy.”

“Then treat this like another form of battle.”

Her jaw tensed, her lips firming, but she rolled her hips, a slight, shallow movement that ground her pussy against his palm as moisture soaked through to wet it.

He held her there, giving free rein to his arousal. His heart beat like a skin drum, pulse quickening at his temples and his groin. He strummed his fingers over her clothed folds and moved in to trap her chest.

Her hands came up to push at his shoulders. “I fight because I should,” she whispered.

Dagr gave a curt nod, then bent to cover her mouth, plunging into moist heat. She tasted exotic, smelled of musk and sweat, not too pungent, but tantalizing enough to capture his arousal, full-blown and surging to rut against her.

He clapped his hands on the wall on either side of her, afraid to touch her until he’d bridled his lust because he’d leave her skin bruised.

His lips rubbed hers, his tongue probed, waiting for her to reciprocate the exploratory penetration. When she moaned her surrender and thrust her tongue into his mouth, he gave a rumble of approval that vibrated his chest against hers.

He broke the kiss, clasped her hands, and slid them outward, pressing them against the wall to tell her to keep them there. Then he drew his knife again, stretched what remained of the top of her uniform, and inserted the blade, sharp edge outward, to slit it from her neck to low on her belly.

Her shaky exhale brushed against his neck.

When the edges parted, he stared at her nude breasts and abdomen. Her nipples were a rusty brown and large, the tips reddening as they elongated. Her belly quivered against the cold, blunt edge of the blade. He pulled the knife away and thrust it into the metal wall beside her head, then clutched both sides of her opened suit and ripped it the rest of the way off her.

When her arms were freed, she wrapped one over her breasts, and hid the dark thatch cloaking her pussy with an open palm.

Dagr let her have her false modesty. He stepped back and stripped off his tunic, trousers, and woolen socks, leaving on only his golden armbands and the black amulet.

He gripped his shaft and pumped his fist up and down once, deliberately drawing her attention there, giving her fair warning of his size and his intent.

Her eyes widened; her tongue wet her lips before she met his gaze again.

Now her whole body shivered, and Dagr understood. He too was filled with excitement and a strange sort of dread. As though the moment was somehow bigger, maybe destined. And he didn’t want to feel the pull, wanted to keep this only about finding release inside a woman’s body, any woman’s body—but this slight, slender ship’s captain wasn’t like any woman he’d ever known before. She wasn’t eager to sleep with the clan-lord. Didn’t expect reward for her service to him. And she was equally appalled at her attraction. Her courage only enhanced her dark beauty.

How odd was it to travel into the heavens and find the one woman he might have kept for his own?

Honora leaned against the cool, smooth wall behind her because her knees weakened. Her pussy throbbed, the slow, deepening beat matching her heart’s pulse for pulse.

The sight of him took away her breath, made her hot and wet. There wasn’t an inch of him that wasn’t clad in thick ropes of muscle. His skin was pale. Sweat glistened on the swells, emphasizing their size, but he hardly needed the enhancement.

Everywhere she looked was massive and covered with dark hair and fine white lines, like threads and poorly stitched patches, crisscrossing his tall frame. So many scars. Gods, they turned her on.

A hint of a tat, wrapping around his narrow waist, had her wishing he’d do a slow turn so she could see it all, but then she’d have to drag her gaze from his Viking-sized cock.

The hand covering her pussy pressed against her pubic bone, trying to trap the sensations flooding her sex, making her swollen. A single glide of her thumb over her hardening clit might be enough to make her come.

Dagr took a step toward her, his expression dark and electrifying. “This first time,” he growled, dropping his gaze to where his hand glided along his shaft, “will be fast.”

“First?” she breathed.
Fuucck.

At the end of one long pull, his thumb slid over the satiny, plush tip, smearing a drop of ejaculate.

She couldn’t help it—she licked her lips.

“Remove your hand.”

Honora wondered how’d she’d come to this. How she could even consider surrendering so quickly to the barbarian. It wasn’t as though she were sex-starved. She turned to Baraq for sex when her needs clamored for relief.

Perhaps she was her father’s daughter after all. This weakness of the flesh could be an inherited flaw—one unleashed by the excitement of battle and the melting heat of his glance. Maybe it was just curiosity about the power he wielded in his large frame. She’d never before encountered a man as large and intimidating as this pirate.

Or did her subconscious allow her to fold because deep down she truly feared him and hoped cooperation might earn her some lenience?

Her arguments dried up. She knew she was only fooling herself. Her attraction was inexplicable but so powerful she couldn’t resist it.

“Remove your hand,” he repeated, this time his voice grinding.

She was beyond pretending resistance to his commands. She dropped the hand between her legs that she’d used to shield herself from his view. Then she lowered the arm crossing her breasts and stood as naked as he did, waiting while his gaze swept her slowly, head to toe and back up.

What did he see? Was she too petite, too lacking in curves? Did he prefer creamy white to her own darkly tinted flesh?

Dagr closed in, reaching out with one hand. He touched her with only his fingers, sliding them between her folds to test her arousal. Silky, creamy heat coated his digits. She knew, because he used the moist tips to swirl gently over her clit.

The choice of the first place and how to touch her surprised her. She’d thought the savage marauder in this pirate would dig his hands into her flesh and force her quickly onto his cock. Not that she would have complained. Her pussy made succulent, smacking sounds as he continued to fondle the tiny, turgid knot.

“Wider,” he whispered, sliding closer, one hand bracketing her shoulder, one side of his chest pressing against a soft, round breast as he leaned into her curves.

Blood sang through her veins. She parted her thighs tentatively, giving him just enough room to thrust his long middle finger inside her, while she looked away and tried to preserve a little of her tattered pride. He pressed the heel of his hand against her mons while he continued to swirl and tunnel inward.

All the while he probed, he watched her face. She felt his gaze move over her, his breaths gust against her cheek.

She tried valiantly not to let her excitement show, not to give him the satisfaction of knowing she was close to complete capitulation.

But her nostrils flared as her ripening scent surrounded them. Her eyelids dipped with the added pressure he applied to her clitoris as he stroked toward her core. With his other hand, he tweaked her clit, causing her to jerk her head toward him.

The corners of his mouth kicked up.

She wanted to look away again, but then he’d think her a coward. “Thought you said fast ...” she muttered.

“I would see to your pleasure first.”

She raised her chin. “Why do you care whether I come or not?”

“Because I would command you.”

She glared, meeting his ice-hard gaze. “You think that if you make me come, I’ll melt every time you crook a finger?”

“I think you will smolder quietly—until we are alone.” His eyelids lowered to half-mast. “Then you will do my bidding—eagerly.”

This time she nearly did swoon, or at least her knees wobbled. Moisture spilled from inside her.

As his fingers swirled in the fluid, he gave her a slow, predatory smile.

Heat crept across her cheeks, and she wished she had a little more self-control. She was making this too easy. “You think a lot of yourself,” she ground out.

“I have experience.”

Said so simply, she might have scoffed at another man, but she didn’t doubt him. Not for a second. He’d be the best she’d ever had. “You think I don’t have experience, or that I can’t find partners who do?”

His eyes darkened. “I think you’ve never been completely at a man’s mercy. That you’ve never been taken.”

No doubt her short, sharp inhalation told him everything. Her body only echoed the response. Her nipples contracted, the tiny buds hardening like pebbles.

Oh, yeah, he knew.
His gaze dropped to her chest. “I want to suckle them while you ride me.”

Her throat closed. “You’re too tall,” she choked out.

“Interesting. You didn’t say that you’re too short.”

“Because I’m not.”

Leaning away, he pulled his wet finger from her sex and circled one nipple, then the other. Then he gripped her waist and slid her up the wall until her breasts were even with his face.

Honora flattened her hands against the wall and swallowed hard, trying to wet a dry mouth. Her belly quivered and jumped as she waited for his next move.

Dagr held her gaze for a long moment, the tension sharpening his cheeks and jaw making him more attractive and frightening. She knew she should be worried about the fact she found that so compelling, but she couldn’t think because he was closing in on her chest ...

He latched on to a nipple, growling against her skin, tasting her and letting loose the ravager, the conqueror she wanted.

Her hands clutched his hair, raking wildly through the thickness as she writhed.

Perhaps encouraged by her bucking, he sucked her hard, pulled her nipple between his teeth, wagging his head to root and suction, until she wrapped her legs around his muscled torso and hugged him closer.

Her breaths were ragged little sobs and quickening. Her heels dug into his back.

He released the nipple, laved it once with the flat of his tongue, then sucked its twin into his mouth, torturing it until her skin prickled with gooseflesh and her pussy spasmed. A long, thin moan slid between her lips.

When at last he let go and lowered her, he did it so slowly she groaned. He was letting her feel the strength in his hands, waiting while her palms smoothed compulsively along his rippling biceps.

He gave her time to acknowledge his power. She responded by gifting him with her surrender. With a long exhalation, she let her head fall back against the wall, let her eyelids drift dreamily down. Her lips parted, inviting his kiss.

He scooped up her lips and rubbed over them. His cock found her slick entrance, prodded once to find the center, and then he gripped her ass and guided her down his shaft, groaning as her tight, moist heat surrounded him.

He gritted his teeth as he buried his cock inside her. “You are every bit as small as I imagined.”

And already coming apart. She moaned and ground her hips against his. Delicate convulsions rippled up and down her channel, caressing his shaft.

He changed the angle of his thrusts and slammed into her again.

Breath hissed between her teeth, and she would have hid her face against his shoulder, but he prevented it, bending to press his forehead against hers.

“Did I hurt you?” he growled, not slowing his motions.

She shook her head.

“Don’t lie to me. Not while we share sex.”

“Not lying,” she bit out. “Just ...
fuck ...
it’s good.”

He smiled and kissed her hard, then crowded her against the bulkhead, holding her there. He began to dip and surge upward, fucking her hard, grinding at the end of every thrust, the powerful motions sliding her up and down the wall.

It was no gentle taking, a battle of another sort. She clawed at his shoulders and scissored her legs behind him to bounce her pussy on his cock and increase the friction.

Dagr leaned into her, his hands slapping the wall on either side of her, his hips the only thing pinning her there as he thrust deeper.

Honora’s whole body fought and clawed, her skin stretching around tightening muscles, sweat sprouting on her face and belly. Liquid pleasure rushed from inside her, hot and melting, easing him deeper while her pussy clasped him hard.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and tilted back her head to let the moans, one after another, rip from her throat.

Clinging to the savage, she came hard, trusting him to see her through the darkness closing around her.

Six

Dagr couldn’t remember the last time watching another’s climax filled him with so much prideful satisfaction.

The woman vibrated as she came apart. Her head thumped softly against the wall as she arched. Her hips slammed harder to take him as deep as she could. She groaned, the sound stretching into a painful wail. Her amber eyes stared sightlessly while deep, rhythmic shudders quivered through her core. He felt the flutter of those sensual convulsions all along his shaft, milking him, drowning him in silky, slick heat.

Then her eyes closed, and her body slackened beneath him, a deep sigh escaping her lips. She fainted—leaving him bemused and so aroused his cock felt harder than the tempered steel of his fathers’ sword.

Dagr shook off the sweat dripping down the end of his nose, and stared at her blurred mouth. With the half-moons of her lids closed and a bruised blue, she looked so small and vulnerable that he felt a pang of guilt.

Until he reminded himself she was anything but a woman in need of protection, even from a warrior like himself. She was a Consortium ship’s captain, had aided in the kidnapping of his brother, and would do her best in the coming days to defeat him, perhaps even to kill him.

Which left his conscience free to enjoy their little interlude, even if it had started out as punishment for her stubborn resistance.

She moaned softly, and her legs tightened restlessly around his waist. Before she came back to herself, he cupped the back of her head and gripped her bottom to hold her pressed against his body, and knelt to deliver her to the floor, never breaking their connection.

He smoothed back the hair sticking to her cheeks, and tucked it behind her ears. She stirred and cuddled her cheek against his palm.

While her breaths deepened and her eyes regained focus, he waited.

Her amber eyes blinked dreamily, then focused on his hovering face. Her expression reflected frozen dismay.

Dagr smiled grimly and stroked into her, a coarse reminder that he was still there, still hard and poised to do so much more.

She swallowed and looked down at her hands, biting into his shoulders. She eased her grip. “You didn’t come.”

“I said I’d see to your pleasure.”

“Was that pleasure?” she whispered, sounding doubtful.

Had he hurt her after all? “You will tell me.”

“I feel anything but happy.” She blinked at a sudden wash of tears. “You captured my ship and now I’m pinned beneath you.”

“Don’t you dare to call this rape,” he said hoarsely.

She shook her head, her lips curving downward. “That’s the most appalling part. I wanted this.”

Dagr bent and kissed her mouth, forcing himself to be gentle and coax her into compliance when what he wanted to do was devour her and finish this. His cock was hard, his balls aching, but she trembled beneath him, and he wanted more than just her consent. He wanted her to acknowledge that something had happened between them, that he’d marked her, made her his.

Which didn’t make any sense at all.

When he drew back, her gaze locked with his. “When we’re alone,” she whispered, “will it be like this? Will you take command of me?”

Dagr liked that she already accepted they would do this again. With his body beginning to shake, he couldn’t be anything but blunt. “When we are alone, you are mine.”

“Not exactly what I asked.”

“Did I hurt you?”

“How do I answer that?” Her lips trembled. “I’m ... devastated.”

He canted his head, aligning their mouths better for the deeper kiss he placed on her mouth. He stroked into her mouth at the same time as he tunneled into her body—one quick, hard thrust—then he lifted his head. “You think I am unscathed?”

She blinked; then her eyelids dropped as she scanned his expression. “Don’t mock me.”

“Never.” A tight smile stretched his mouth. “I am pleased with you, Lady Captain.”

Her gaze slowly swept his face. “You’re handsome when you smile, even under all that blue paint. Makes me wonder what it would be like to see that smile while we’re vertical.”

A snort of laughter surprised him, and she gave him a small grin, but it quickly faded. “You didn’t come.”

“You’re repeating yourself. Are you afraid you don’t measure up to Viking women?”

She separated a lock of his hair and wrapped it slowly around her finger, staring at it, avoiding his gaze. “Do I? Measure up?”

“I had to hold back for fear I’d harm you,” he said truthfully.

A frown sank a furrow between her brows. “You shouldn’t have. I’m not fragile.”

“You lost consciousness,” he drawled.

Pink tinted her bronze cheeks, and her mouth pouted. “Only because the pleasure was more than I expected. Next time, I’ll be prepared and much less impressed.”

Dagr shook his head. He’d let her think she could control her response. She was his perfect complement. Only because he was truly more experienced had he been able to leash his own explosive reactions.

He pushed off the floor, lifting his chest from hers, but tilting his hips so his cock crowded deeper through her soft, hot channel. He wanted to go slowly, to hide the fact he was holding on by a thread, but his blood pounded against both temples and in his groin. His cock stirred inside her, quickening, swelling impossibly larger.

Air hissed between her teeth, but she didn’t wince, her mouth opened around a low, guttural moan of pleasure.

The sound spurred him on. He flexed his buttocks and thighs and stroked inside her—long hard thrusts that rammed through her tender tissues.

She moaned and hissed, her hips popping counter to his motions. He drove faster, hammering her soft, yielding flesh, the force of his thrusts scooting her across the floor until she set her hands against the wall and held firm.

Shoving his arms beneath her knees, he lifted her ass from the floor, and pulled up her hips to control her motions, digging deep for control to calm the wildness surging through his veins. He wanted more than release. He wanted her to come again, to surrender completely.

He stopped moving and dragged in deep breaths, staring down at her while she rolled her head side to side. “Dagr, dammit, move now...”

He thumbed her clitoris, feeling it harden beneath the scrape of his callused pad. Her thighs opened wider; her hips tilted. Her clit stretched past the thin hood and he plucked it, squeezing to torture the rigid knot.

“I’ve already come,” she panted, then averted her face. “You don’t have to wait.”

“I’m far from finished with you. And you will come for me again.”

She shook her head. “I don’t. I’ve never ...”

“You will.” He wet his fingertips and slid them over her the top of her folds again.

But she gritted her teeth and glared.

Dagr lowered her butt to the floor, then scooted quickly down her body, hunching over it because there wasn’t room to stretch his legs behind him. He slid an arm around her thigh, bringing his hand over her belly to spread her folds and expose her clit. Then he dipped two fingers into her pussy, gathering her moisture, and trailed his fingertips downward to rub her second entrance.

Her body jerked. “No!”

At her strident tone, Dagr gave her a glare.

Her eyebrows shot up. “What? I can’t complain if you do something I don’t like?”

“You’ve never been taken here before?” he asked, pressing against her entrance and enjoying the way she squirmed and her cheeks reddened.

“I’ve never submitted to it. It’s not comfortable.”

He wondered at her choice of words. His finger stopped moving but didn’t leave her asshole. Perhaps she needed a moment to get past the embarrassment. He lowered his face and licked at the creamy, silky fluid clinging to her folds. The tang of her arousal coated his tongue, feeding the fire building in his loins.

Her fingers dug into his scalp and pulled his hair. “I thought you wanted to conquer me. Eating a woman out is the most submissive thing a man can do.”

He snorted and gave her another pointed glare but didn’t pause in the lavish attention he gave her pussy. Didn’t she know that supping from a woman’s sex was the surest way to enslave her?

Tunneling with his tongue, he rimmed her entrance, then licked upward, centering his attention on her clitoris. He latched both lips around it and sucked it gently, testing her tolerance. When her hips trembled but didn’t jerk, he sucked harder and circled her tiny furled hole again.

She blew out a breath, but didn’t complain this time. Her thighs widened; her belly danced with excited quivers and flexes. He released her clit and feathered it, touching it over and over while he rubbed her back entrance until her hips rocked up and down and her moans trailed one after another.

Unable to wait a moment longer, Dagr kissed an inner thigh and straightened, kneeling between her legs. He held himself still while he waited for her to recover herself, for her to notice the hand he held out in her direction.

The lady captain rolled her head, then focused her gaze on him, a look of stark longing in her eyes.

How she pleased him. Even while they should be enemies, should be at each other’s throats, she forsook her pride and held back nothing.

He curled his fingers, beckoning her.

She swallowed and sat up, then crawled over to him, meeting his gaze before straddling his lap. She rose high, waited while he fit his cock to her entrance, and then slowly lowered herself, not stopping until her pussy nestled against his groin. Her lips trembled, and she pressed them together.

Again, he held still, waiting for her to decide whether her pride was more important than her need. He gripped her bottom hard, digging his fingers into her soft flesh, not urging movement, but letting her know he was ready and barely leashed.

“What is it you want? Me begging?” she asked, scowling although her voice held a tremor. “You can have me any way you want. I’m your hostage. Haven’t you ever pulled rank, used your superior strength to get what you want?”

“Have you ‘pulled rank’?”

Eyes wide, she flushed, and he wondered about that, remembering the warrior on the deck and how he’d wanted to come to her rescue. “I have never pressured a woman using my station. They come to me—eagerly.”

“Because you’re the big bad pirate?”

He snorted, not bothering to correct her mistake. “Perhaps they come to me because they know I will make them scream.”

She stayed planted on his cock, outwardly calm. However, her pussy clasped around him, giving him wet, rhythmic caresses.

“I hate that I want you,” she whispered, leaning close enough the berry tips of her breasts scraped his chest. Her eyes closed for a brief second; heat flared on her cheeks. “You want me to beg.”

“That would please me, but I will be satisfied if you only ask me very nicely for what you want.”

After a deep sigh, she leaned her face on the top of his shoulder. “My legs are shivering. I want to fuck you, but I don’t think I have the strength.”

He petted her, smoothing a palm over her back. He didn’t have hours to spend with her, probably had only minutes before someone sought him out. After the breakneck pace of the day’s events, the quiet moment soothed ravaged nerves. “What is your name?” he whispered.

A short, muffled laugh gusted against his skin. “Honora.”

“Honora,” he repeated. It suited her. Soft sounding, but with an underlying strength. “Have you recovered?”

She tilted back her head, her amber gaze level with his, and nodded. He gripped her ass more firmly, giving her a gentle nudge of encouragement, and then she rocked tentatively forward, pulling on his length.

Dagr cursed beneath his breath, gritted his teeth, wanting to hold out a little bit longer to enjoy the feel of her moist caresses, but there was no stopping him now.

Honora moaned, her body too sensitized for her to pretend any longer that she held even a smidgeon of control over herself. Everywhere their bodies touched, her skin burned. His large cock stretched her deliciously, offering its own odd comfort.

Dagr’s hand cupped the back of her head, his fingers pulling her hair to tilt her head. “They will come for me soon,” he said, his voice tight.

“I know,” she gasped. “I’m not ready to face it. Not just yet.”

“Then don’t. Pretend there is only this.” Then both his hands gripped her bottom hard and moved her, lifting her up and down his shaft.

Her pussy was hot, already a little raw. She’d thought Dagr had brought her all the pleasure her body could bear, but again, fluid washed down her channel, spilling over his cock, easing his strokes as he shoved deep, then eased away.

“I don’t believe this,” she whispered, closing her eyes because she didn’t want to give him more proof that she was his, here inside her own room. They might have only these stolen moments, but her idea of pleasure with a man was forever changed. All because she’d wanted to be controlled, needed a man to master her body, and he’d provided her the proof.

He’d given her that, along with hints of tenderness when her emotions spilled over, rough handling when her body craved it—empathy a man shouldn’t possess. This pirate knew more about what she craved than she did. And she wanted more.

Honora pumped up and down, aided by his large hands cupping her butt, moving faster, grinding harder. She’d pay tomorrow for the effort, but gods, the tension was there again, curling tightly around her womb, building until she moved desperately against him, gliding now in the sweat slicking both their bodies.

His expression lost its shuttered stoicism. His jaw tightened, flexed. His cold blue gaze, always so intense, lost focus and his mouth opened around heavy, gusting breaths.

She rode him, pounding against his groin, her hands grasping, kneading, then clutching his hair to bring his face against her neck as she came apart again, shattering like glass. She cried out, then groaned as his arms wrapped around her back and he thundered upward, spearing her deeply and erupting, his seed coming in hot spurts to bathe her inner walls.

They slowed their opposing motions. She did so reluctantly because the convulsions rippling up and down her channel pleasurably faded away.