At the Viking's Command (Warriors Unleashed Book 2) (7 page)

He led her to the bedroom and nudged the door open with his hip. She didn’t jerk away, although her breathing came faster and harder. “You don’t waste any time do you?”

He never had. He knew what he wanted and he went after it.
Tyra
.

She was still wearing the parka and at least two other layers—which was far too many clothes for his taste. “Strip.”

“You know, there’s this thing called
foreplay
.” She flashed a mock-serious face at him as she ditched the parka. He loved her laughter. His brothers made jokes and laughed, but this was different. This felt like her laughter was just for him.

He dropped onto the bed while he waited for her to carry out his instructions. The bed was designed with Viking-sized bodies in mind, a big, hand-carved sleigh-bed piled high with blankets, furs, and an obscene number of pillows. She stared at the soft mountain and was that lust in her eyes for his 400-count sheets?

“Oh, God. This is nice.” She bounced on the bed, grinning as she made snow angels in the covers. “Best. Bed. Ever.”

He added her comment to the running tally he was keeping in his head. Rumor had it that the Packs lived hard-scrabble lives and, so far, he’d seen no evidence to dispute that. “The Pack doesn’t believe in beds?”

She grinned up at him. “God, no. Alpha has a blow up mattress. The rest of us have sleeping bags.”

The room was warm and he wanted her clothes off. In fact, he wanted her naked yesterday.

“I told you to do something,” he said.

“Right.” She chewed on her lip, looking delightfully uncertain. “Is this part of that whole
submission
thing?”

He wanted…to play with her. She was looking for something she hadn’t found yet. He didn’t know if she’d had a submissive side before she’d become a wolf, but part of her felt lost and confused, like the sexual landscape had changed around her and she didn’t know the rules or particularly like the players. He ached to change that for her. He wanted to mark her, to rub his scent over her, until both the woman and the wolf acknowledged his place in her life and, just possibly, she gave him the same
welcome home
smile Pure gave his brother.

And…whoa. He had no idea where that desire had come from. This was about sex and pleasure. Nothing else. He made a
take it off
gesture with his hand. He needed to stop overthinking this.

“Got it.” She grinned at him and stood up on the bed, her feet braced on either side of his legs. She pulled his borrowed shirt over her head, tossing it behind her. She was messy. Impulsive. And she fascinated him. Since he hadn’t been able to find her a bra back at the keep, going shirtless bared her beautiful breasts. She was a perfect handful, her brown nipples begging for his kiss. He wanted to lean up, to tongue her nipples, suck her naughty tips into his mouth and taste her like the sweetest candy.

“Nuh-uh. I’m not done here.” She nudged him in the chest with her booted foot, knocking him back onto the pillows. Just who was in charge?

Then she gave a little shimmy, reaching up to pull her hair free of her ponytail and to run her fingers through the long strands. Yeah. She was treating him to a deliberate strip tease. His little wolf was playing with him. This playful side was new. Of course, back in the pit, she’d been scared and hurting. He would give anything to erase those memories and replace them with something happier for her. Unfortunately, when Loki had created the berserkers, he’d skipped the magic wand feature.

“So keep going,” he said roughly. His dick was ironhard and she’d barely gotten started. If she had any idea how easily she could tie him into knots…
not going there
.

“You bet, big guy.” She bent over—
Jesus
—and unlaced the boots, peeking up at him through all that gorgeous hair.

She straightened up and held out her hand. “Help a girl out here?”

When he held out a hand, she leaned on him, her slim, warm fingers closing around his as she toed off the boots. Without taking his eyes off her, he reached out with his free hand, grabbed her boots and set them down on the floor beside the bed. She toyed with the button on her pants.

“Don’t stop.”
Please.

“You got it.” She flashed him a smile and popped the button. A quick shimmy and shake and she was pushing the leather down her thighs, leaving only her thong between him and heaven.

“I like that. Come here.”

He guided her forward until she was standing over him and then he leaned up and kissed her through the silk fabric. Her soft sigh was all the encouragement he needed. He dragged his thumbs up her center, drinking in her sweet scent.

“Calder—”

Off-balance, she staggered on the bed, her hands gripping his shoulders.

“I’ve got you,” he said.

He sucked at her clit through her panties, loving her incoherent little shrieks and demands. He licked and drew circles around her with his tongue and she got louder, her nails digging into his shoulders.

Beautiful.
The way she let go for him was fucking gorgeous. He flicked his tongue over her, teasing her through the damp fabric. And then, right when she was on the edge, the tiny tremors rippling through her flesh, he stopped.

“Calder—” There was his name again, part moan, part complaint.

He scooped her up and set her back against his pillows. “We’re putting this on pause. Taking a time out while you think things over.”

Before she could say anything else, he tore his shirt into strips and used them to tie her wrists to the bed. Yeah. He was a primitive bastard.

Sue him.

~~~

He was going to make her
wait
? Disappointment and arousal coursed through her. Who knew her Viking had a playful side? And did she really want to discover that fact
now
?

Absolutely, positively not.

She licked her lips. “If we’re playing bondage games, do I get a safe word?”

“No.” He wrapped her up in a fur. The room was actually deliciously, fantastically warm. She was in no danger of getting cold, but his concern was sweet. She had no idea if it was deliberate or not.

“Wow. That’s harsh.”


No
is your safe word. You don’t like something, you tell me. Hurting you is the last thing I’d ever want to do.”

She wanted to believe him. God, what she’d give to feel safe, particularly with this man. Having a thing for a Viking was crazy. She didn’t need to think about it to know that. Not only did he go berserk when he got pissed off, but he came with a pack of brothers who’d pretty much made it their life mission to stamp out her new people. While she hadn’t asked to become a werewolf, she was one. There was no getting around it.

And yet she wanted to be here with him. She wanted his body covering hers, his hands holding her down as he took her body and made her see stars from the pleasure of it all. Talking would be a good thing too, because they hadn’t done enough of that when they’d been cellmates. She wanted to know things like his favorite food and his pet peeves and why the hell he hadn’t painted his cabin, because the weathered wood was brown and boring instead of red or purple or any one of a half-dozen different lurid paint colors that she’d seen when she’d passed through the town of Katuaq.

He was staring at her. Right. He’d promised not to hurt her and she’d gone off to visit fantasyland.

“No pain. Got it.”

Calder smiled and, oh God, she was in trouble of a different kind. Usually, his smile was a barely there tug of his lips, his emotions lighting up his eyes but barely registering on his face because the man did an excellent impression of a brick wall. This grin was bold and happy and
knowing
. Definitely in trouble here.

“You like it when I spank you.”

Well. Yeah. The urge to tease him, to push him into doing so again had her squirming on his bed and his grin just got wider.

“We don’t have to talk about everything.”

He leaned in and ran his palm down her bare arm. “You’re going to ask for it.”

“This is that whole
submit
thing, isn’t it? Admit it.”

“You’re going to trust me to give you what you need.” He shoved off the bed and headed for the door.

Oh, God. Arousal trembled through her. Anticipation.
Curiosity.

“The last time you left didn’t work out so well,” she called.

Her pit fights were, mercifully, a blank. The daylight hours, however, she remembered all too well. Along with shifting back into her human form. Coming to naked on the sawdust floor of the pit.
They’d sent her to fight Calder
. That had been her first
oh shit
thought. Even shifted in his bear form, she knew him. He’d been crouched over her. Watching. Her ribs had throbbed and she had a bad feeling that she’d attacked him.

“You left me in the pit.”

He didn’t turn around. “On the other hand, I didn’t kill you.”

“Bonus points for you.”

“What did you want me to do?” He growled the question, but he didn’t sound angry. More…disappointed. At himself?

Since fucking apparently wasn’t on today’s agenda, she settled back against the pillows. “The not killing part was good,” she agreed. “Although I’ve wondered why.”

“Jesus.” He shook his head, his hand flat on the door frame. “You wanted me to finish you?”

“I was a newly turned werewolf. I was out of control. I was just…surprised you passed on the opportunity.” And it had made her wonder. He could have snapped her neck so very easily and the pit guards had made it clear that there were no draws in the pit matches. Someone died. Those were the rules. Wondering why he’d broken those rules for her was stupid. Maybe he hadn’t even had a reason.

It was just that…she was pretty sure Calder was the one who’d undone the locks on her cage when the Vikings had busted out. And that he’d come back to do so.

“Consider this a do-over,” he snapped and shut the bedroom door.

Tied up.

Locked in.

Hel
.

 

4

Calder was breaking down his newest toy, a TSD Bolt Action SD99 Series sniper rifle, when his phone vibrated with an incoming message. Vikar wanted to talk.

Bored with the wedding?

Yeah. It hadn’t taken his brothers long to notice his absence. He set the gun aside and texted Vikar back:
Aren’t you supposed to have better things to do? Like your mate?

If he was lucky, he had better things too. Like the naked female in the other room.

Ha ha. Video conference
?

Calder punched a button on his phone and let Skype do its thing. From the number of faces crowding the small screen, the entire team was assembled. Vikar and Var. Rad, Alarr, Finnr, and a half-dozen others. The guys had moved out of the banquet hall and into the keep’s command center, so this was definitely a business call. They might be medieval Vikings, but some of his brothers jonesed hard for technology and their command center boasted enough hardware to start a world war—or at least to monitor. Bits and bytes weren’t his thing, however. He preferred weapons. Like the disassembled sniper rifle lying in front of him.

M4s, Brownings, Remingtons, and Rugers. He loved them all—so the stack of semi-automatic weapons behind Var was the best-looking porn he’d seen in a long time.

“Is it Christmas? Did Santa bring me presents?”

Vikar grinned. “Thought you could do something with our new playthings.”

He could battle sight zero the M4 in seconds before the rapid fire bursts took out his target.

“Thanks, Dad. Are we going to a ball game next?”

Vikar flipped him the bird—which was a definite
no
. “We had a security breach.”

Calder knew that—he hadn’t realized, however, that his brothers had been alerted. Since none of the faces staring at him looked like they particularly gave a fuck, they’d pulled the security feeds. They knew he had the female with him and this was a courtesy
what the fuck
call.

“You want to add a guest to my list, all you got to do is tell me.” Var shot his trademark smile in Calder’s direction. That crooked grin had earned the man’s way into more than his fair share of female hearts. The question really was: why was his brother working the charm on Calder?

Vikar leaned in. “Shit. I’m not picky. I’ve got my mate’s plus-one sitting at my table. How bad can your date be?”

Rad leaned in, icy-eyed as always. “Give me a name.”

“And details.” Var elbowed Vikar. “Told you he lit out of the ceremony for a good reason. His female is damn pretty, although we may need to work on her social skills. She boosted some stuff from one of the Valkyries and Pure’s sisters are out for blood.”

He’d had his doubts about Tyra’s wardrobe change. “Tell the Valkyrie I’ll make good on her loss.”

Not that he gave a fuck.

Vikar had his own list of demands. “We want a name.”

“Tyra,” Calder said, because her name was no state secret and giving it up wouldn’t hurt her.

Rad bared his teeth. Shit. Who’d let him off the leash today? “Does our Tyra have a last name?”

What Calder didn’t know about her would fill the fucking Encyclopedia Britannica. Sharing a cell hadn’t exactly been conducive to get-to-know-you-time. Which was a pity. Christ, that was the problem, wasn’t it? He wanted to squirrel away every detail he could about Tyra, from her bra size to how she liked her coffee in the morning. He’d bet she went for a mug that was more cream and sugar than black, because she had a sweet tooth.

“Earth to Calder.” Vikar snapped his fingers.

Right. “Not any more.”

“How do you lose a last name?”

“She’s one of Fenrir’s,” he admitted. None of them could ignore the elephant in the room, even if she had a spectacular pair of tits.

Again, since none of his brothers looked particularly surprised, he did the mental math. Tyra was a night shifter, so she’d likely made it onto the island in wolf form. She’d left the keep with him in human form. So, yeah, newsflash. His brothers had some concerns.

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