Authors: Anne Marsh
“That’s not my thing.” But she couldn’t help thinking about it just a little.
“You don’t know what you like. Not yet.” He sounded certain.
“And you do?”
“Yes.” He tossed his jacket on the ground, lowering her after it. She rolled, putting space between them, but his hand slapped around her ankle, tethering her. Just as far as he’d allow her to go. “You like me.”
She wanted to deny it, but she couldn’t.
Stupid, stupid, stupid
.
No, she kept her mouth shut, and they both knew what that meant. It meant he’d won. She’d lost. Again. His hand on her ankle tugged, reeling her in. Pulling her back onto the leather. She wanted to kick him—and she wanted to see what he’d do next because, barbarian or not, berserker or not, he made her
want
him. For the first time in centuries, she wasn’t frozen. Wasn’t cold. She
felt
.
His thumb came up, rubbing at the corner of her mouth. When her lips parted, his thumb swiped inside in a purely carnal gesture. “I’m going to get inside you just like that. We’re not going to be sleeping. All night,” he promised. “Until you don’t think you can possibly come again. But you will.”
Her breath caught, and the rush of wet between her thighs had her flushing. His eyes darkened as if he
knew
, and he focused on her like a predator scenting prey.
“You like that. You want this night too, don’t you?” His thumb withdrew, stroked the length of her jaw and left behind a wet, primitive mark. “You want to be all mine tonight.”
“It’s not like that.” Was it?
He moved and she retreated. He pushed her down, deliberately, as if he wanted her to know who was bigger and stronger. One smooth move and now that he had her down, he pinned her there with his hips against hers, his hands slapping the ground on either side of her head. The thick ridge of his erection rested against her swollen folds, not letting her move.
“No?” He dropped his face to her neck and his teeth nipped her skin, a little jolt of pleasure-pain that felt so good. His scent surrounded her.
He
surrounded her. Arousal hit her hard, had her panting and sucking in air until each breath flooded her lungs with him. He was already inside her. “Then how come I smell sweet, hot pussy?”
“You can’t possibly.” She gripped his shoulders, sliding her fingers beneath his shirt to find warm male skin.
His hoarse laugh warned her she was in trouble. “You don’t know shit about berserkers, honey. We’re part animal, part bear. We have all sorts of unnatural advantages, and one of them is our ability to follow a scent trail. Scent doesn’t lie. You’re wet.” He leaned down. “So wet. We both know it. You could take me right now.”
“Vikar.” God, her voice was a plea she couldn’t bite back. She wanted this. Wanted
him
.
“Yes,” he said. “Beg me. Tell me how much you want this.”
She shook her head. He was big and dominant and that was delicious, but he also wanted to take charge here again. He wanted to fuck her, and that would change things. She was already at a disadvantage. She didn’t understand this man. Didn’t understand his world. The only familiar thing was the heat building low in her belly. She knew
this
feeling now. So maybe she’d let him, maybe she’d give in to her own curiosity. And maybe she’d admit that she’d made a promise and she couldn’t stop him if he wouldn’t let her.
“You’ll tell me,” he vowed, and she wasn’t sure if he meant the fantasies setting her on fire, or the secrets he’d accused her of keeping. “Everything, Pure.”
He lowered his head, his mouth capturing hers. His fingers threaded through hers, pulling her hands up over her head, and there was no missing the hunger on his tough face. Pleasure and heat. Dampness. His hips pushed in and she moaned, trying desperately to cradle his erection where she needed him.
His tongue licked along the seam of her closed lips. She opened up, and he took, stroking the inside of her mouth. She’d never liked these kinds of kisses before, but this was raw and primitive, a fundamental connection between her body and the man holding her. She wanted this.
She wanted
him
.
She kissed him back, driving her tongue against his, swallowing his small grunt of surprise and enjoyment as she met him more than halfway. She angled her head back, opening her mouth wider. He tasted impossibly good.
She didn’t know him. He was a job—and an intriguing mystery, a dark stranger she’d chosen for a handful of nights of heat and passion. He was a treat to herself, and she was dying for him. These feelings were something she hadn’t known she needed. He’d been her escape route from her icy enslavement to Odin—but now he was something
more
.
He drew the blades he always wore and punched them into the ground above her head until only the handles were visible. One big hand drew her wrists together. The fingers of his other hand stroked down her jaw and along her shoulder. Slowly, he pushed the folds of her leather jacket down her arm.
That warm hand kept moving. She shifted restlessly, need building low in her belly. God, she didn’t want him to be done yet. Didn’t want this game to be over. She’d never felt like this before, and she wasn’t ready for it to be over.
Heat flared in his eyes at the sight of the corslet cupping her breasts. She hadn’t dressed for a lover, but now she knew instinctively that he liked what he saw. That he wanted more. “This is pretty,” he said hoarsely.
She whimpered. He moved, pulling off his shirt and tossing it to the ground. She felt his breath against her skin as he took her down, that dark head coming closer as he drew her hands upwards and wrapped her fingers around the knives’ hafts. “You’re going to hold on for me, Pure.”
“Am I?” He was all of her secret fantasies come true. He was hard and dark and determined. She shouldn’t really let him touch her like this, shouldn’t let him dominate her, but she’d always lived life so safe. Now, she wanted something different, something
more.
God, Vikar was that.
She obediently tightened her fingers.
“Don’t let go,” he warned.
“Or?” Her voice sounded so breathless and needy.
“Or maybe I won’t give you this.” His fingers stroked the soft curve of her breast, finding her nipples beneath the fabric and tugging. She felt that pleasure, sweet and hot, low in her belly, her pussy swelling. Demanding more. In silent answer, he cupped her breasts and just that small, teasing caress sent her higher.
He licked her nipple, in a raw, sensual reaction.
“You taste good, honey.” She could feel every word against her too-sensitive, greedy skin, and then his tongue found her again, licking harder. Her fingers tightened further.
Gods. Vikar’s kiss was sweet, hot pain and ecstasy.
Big hands found the button at her waistband, undid and loosened what she’d tied up so tightly. Pushed her pants down in a dark caress. “Toe them off,” he demanded when the material caught on her boots.
She did, trembling.
Don’t stop
.
“Part your legs for me, baby.”
She wanted to. God, how she wanted to. He was everything dangerous she’d fantasized about. He wasn’t safe, and she could lose herself in the pleasure he offered so easily. His mouth brushed the soft skin of her inner thigh. His hands moved down her body, tracing the curve of her waist, her hip, until he held her where he wanted her for his touch. He was dominating and controlling, offering her a sensual ride she desperately wanted to take.
Cradling her thighs, he swirled his tongue over her skin, tasting her. She wanted his tongue elsewhere. She waited. This night was an impossibly dark, sexy dream, and she was going to enjoy every naughty minute of it.
“You have to open up and ask for it.” His fingers moved, stroking lightly along her center. She jumped. “You have to tell me exactly what you want, Pure.”
The rough promise of his voice had her pushing her hips against that too-light, too-teasing touch. She wanted
more
. She wanted all of the fantasy, wanted his fingers and his mouth to take her before he did. This wasn’t going to be happily ever after, but that was okay. She could take charge of this when it was over. This could be the start of the something different she’d wanted. Wrapped in his arms, with his head slipping lower, the tips of his fingers just touching the slick, heated folds of her pussy through her panties, this was enough.
Her body answered to his touch. God, she was so close. He’d kiss and she’d come and this would be over. She didn’t want this game to end, not yet, but she was parting her thighs.
“Lick me,” she whispered.
###
He’d meant to seduce her. To show what he could give her if she just let him.
Instead, she’d seduced him. She was so damned beautiful stretched out and waiting for him to touch her. He loved that she wasn’t afraid to ask for what she wanted. That she’d let him see precisely how much she needed his touch.
For her, he wanted to be gentle.
That wasn’t who he was, though. He was a fighter, a Viking mercenary and a berserker who turned into a fucking animal. There couldn’t be just him and her in a bed. No matter how much she aroused or how much she made him wish to be someone else—that gentler lover—he couldn’t do it.
But he wanted to…
Loki’s balls, he wanted to. He wanted to give her every single fantasy, sweet and dark.
For tonight, dark would have to do.
Reaching between them, he watched her face as he tore off her panties. The white ribbon holding the sides closed was a fucking bow, for Christ's sake. Impractical. Feminine. Delicious. One quick snap of his wrist and he got them off. Her eyes widened but she didn’t say no.
“Last chance,” he warned, sliding his shoulders between her thighs. He wanted to see, to taste, every inch of her. She’d take him like this and understand him for what he was. Part man, part animal.
And, right now, he was all hers.
“Lick me,” she ordered. “Right now, Vikar. Don’t make me wait.”
He wasn’t resisting that invitation. Dragging his tongue up her thigh, he savored the tiny quiver in her muscles. Fear—and anticipation. Yes. She knew she was going to get it good. She went nowhere now until he’d had his taste.
“Vikar—” He liked the sound of his name on her lips. He wasn’t just any Viking, wasn’t just the mercenary conveniently to hand when she had a job that needed doing. She used his name like the sexiest of pleas, and she knew exactly who was touching her.
He spread her thighs wider, drinking in the way her breathing hitched as her soaked folds parted.
Reaching forward, he opened her further, dragging his thumb softly through the dampness. Her clit was already lush and full, straining towards him. This part of her definitely wanted what was coming.
“Right now,” he promised. No more waiting for either of them.
He licked a circle around her clit. She was sweetly swollen there, her pussy wet and greedy for more. He’d give everything she needed tonight. Gently, he sucked just beside the bursting little kernel. Her throaty moan told him she liked that.
“This is what you asked for,” he growled against her skin. He repeated the circle, losing himself in the feel of her. She let him wet her, lave her with his tongue. Kiss the sides of her clit and sweep his tongue up but not over the sensitive peak because tormenting her was a delicious pleasure.
She teased him.
Every moan, every soft roll of her hip, undid him more.
She made him lose sight of his endgame, made him see nothing and no one but her. His Pure was so impossibly sweet. She had his heart banging out a furious rhythm, his breath soughing roughly in and out, because he was on fire for her. As his mouth moved over her and she
felt
for him, he wanted even more. More Pure. More time. He could kiss her for hours, her hips pushing gently against him, demanding more.
She didn’t let go, just hung on tighter. His good Pure.
He rewarded her, licked harder and deeper, sucking her clit into his mouth until her cry rang in his ears and her hips rocked up in silent demand. Yes, his baby really liked that. He raked his tongue over her, and she came for him, long and slow, riding his mouth as mewls of pleasure spilled from her lips.
He needed to give her more.
Needed to make her share the same sensual desperation burning up his body.
Wetting a thumb in her juices, he slid it between the cheeks of her ass and carefully pressed against the small, hidden rear entry. Lost in her orgasm, she let him in, the tiny muscles clenching and relaxing. The hot, tight feel of her was killing him, her ass pushing back into his touch as she bit out his name, a small gasp of shock, surprise—and arousal. He couldn’t wait to get his dick inside her this way, to take her deep and hard in ways she’d never forget.
To mark every part of her as his.
She was all his right here, right now.
She was candy sweet, the taste of her so damned good he knew he’d never forget. Never want to forget. His Pure was vulnerable and open and trusting him. He’d intended to dominate her, to show her exactly how good he could make this. To make her crave more. Instead, he was lost in her and her response.
Hel
. He believed in magic now, because she’d gotten to him.
“Pure—” he whispered against her tender, open core, and she gave him his name back in a breathy whimper as the first tiny contractions of her second orgasm milked the other finger he slipped inside her.
There was movement behind Vikar, the sound of booted feet, and he growled, his head coming up as he slid his fingers free and swung her safely behind him. “There’d better be one fucking good reason for this.”
She cried out, her hands gripping his shoulders convulsively. There was no stopping the orgasm, however desperately she wanted to hold back the sensations. The pleasure hit her hard and fast, and she rode it out in front of his soldiers. Fuck. This wasn’t how he’d planned the night. This was between him and her. This was his business—not mercenary business.
He knew his boys could see too much of her and his beast growled, a possessive
back the fuck off
. Her corslet was on the ground, her jeans pushed down, leaving those long, soft legs bare and so very pretty. She’d let him touch. Let him
taste
her. No way he’d forget the taste he’d had. She was his now.