by Marsh, Anne
“Yes.” She could match him word for word.
All these emotions were still too overwhelming. How many years—Freya’s tits, how many decades—would it take for her to master control of these new emotions? Did Vikar not care, other than for his men?
Vikar braked, coasting the bike to a standstill. With good-natured cursing, the other Vikings rode around them, startled and curious when Vikar waved them on ahead. Which was also not like him. Granted, the odds of an attack three hundred yards from the end goal were slim, but the man exuded caution. And paranoia. It was likely why he still lived, after all.
She twisted in the seat to look up at him. The movement notched her ass against his cock, and he groaned.
“Cayucos is that way.” She pointed towards the town sprawled along the beach.
“Yes,” he gritted out. “I am well aware of that.”
“Then why are we stopping here?”
“You’re eager to be done with our journey?”
This was it. Her opportunity to confess. Unfortunately, she’d never felt less like telling the truth.
“No.” The word slipped from her mouth before she could stop it. Apparently, when she’d parted ways with her icy façade, she’d said goodbye to her verbal filter as well. “Eager doesn't apply here.”
“Good.” Satisfaction laced his voice.
Gripping her face with both hands, he took her mouth with his. Devoured her. Licked at her, nipping her bottom lip when she didn’t yield fast enough to please him and sweeping inside when she parted for him. He kissed her and feasted on her, and if the hard kiss had an undertone of something else, neither of them spoke of it.
His tongue explored the closed seam of her lips. Bold. Confident. She wanted to shut him out, to retreat, but instead she opened her mouth on a silent cry at the fiery sensations licking through her. Such a simple touch, but he undid her. Her lips parted—and he swept inside. There was nothing sweet now about his kiss. He touched and tasted, pushing her over the edge into that dark place filled with heated pleasure.
He made a rough sound, and tension filled him as he pulled her closer. Too big. Too dominant. Power rippled through him, the claws slipping from beneath his skin. No. Her eyes flew open and met his. His eyes glowed red, a clear warning that he wasn’t human—but she was now, and she’d never survive a full-on berserker assault.
She yanked hard against his hold, forcing herself to protest despite the wetness slicking her pussy. Her body wanted him, no matter what he was.
He was dangerous.
Seductively so. All that raw, barely leashed power, the thick bar of his cock pressing against her. Demanding she give him her passion. And she wanted to. Gods, she wanted to.
“Your eyes are glowing.” She fought for breath.
“I’m not a man,” he warned, and the prick of his claws vanished, replaced by warm skin. “You know that, baby.”
“You’re not an animal, either.” She refused to believe that.
“Part of me is. Don’t ever mistake that, Pure. My animal wants you, wants to fuck that hot pussy of yours until you’re screaming for me.”
He wouldn’t hurt her. Never on purpose.
“With pleasure.” The man shot her a grim look, but she could see the animal peering out of his eyes. Possessive. Territorial. And he’d marked her as his.
“One more night,” he promised. “Tonight we camp here, and then in the morning I'll finish the job.”
Chapter Six
“Tomorrow?” The word came out as a squeak, a mortifying sound that warned her she’d misplaced her backbone sometime between last night and now.
More mortifying, however, was her desire for that very thing. One more night. Granted, her Viking had been a temporary adventure to begin with. She’d known she had him for at most a handful of days and nights, but she wasn’t ready yet to part ways with him. The adventure had been too short—and the man too sweet.
He’d been so much more than she’d expected.
Still, setting rules was wise. He was, after all, a Viking. He’d take anything not locked up.
“Tomorrow I’m free.”
He shrugged carelessly. “Yeah. Unless I decide to keep you.”
He was a barbarian. Her fingers tightened on the seat. “You can’t do that.”
He smiled, a slow, mean grin. “Of course I can.”
“We had a bargain.”
“We sure do.” He moved lightning quick, getting a hand inside her pants. A finger tucked against her in an intimate, carnal invasion. She was sore from last night, but the soreness made her more aware. When she tried to wriggle away, he stopped her effortlessly. The raw carnality of his touch reminded her who was in control here. And who was not.
“You gave this to me. This is what I am.”
His finger inside her was a sensual, physical reminder of who and what he was. Yet when that finger moved, she melted, easing around him as discomfort and awkwardness gave way to a more violent, darker pleasure. Yes.
“You’re a berserker.” She despised her needy pant.
“Yeah. You want me to shift right now?”
“Could you?” Did he possess that kind of control? His finger pressed deeper, finding a hidden spot. The violent burst of desire shocked her. She shouldn’t, couldn’t like this kind of touch, but she spread her legs wider, giving him more access to her.
“Do you want a barbarian in your bed? A mindless fuck?” There was nothing nice about the smile that creased his face now. “I can be that for you all right.”
“And you don’t want to be more?” She knew he could hear her frustration—and he didn’t care. He didn’t want to change or he couldn’t change.
“You want to redeem me, baby?” He slid his finger free, leaving her aroused. She wanted the orgasm he’d denied her and wanted to hit him. He leaned closer, reminding her forcibly just how large he was. His face was tight with anger.
“Go away.” She was done with this, with him. Swinging her leg over the side of the bike, she hit the ground fast, putting distance between them.
“No.” Dismounting, he deliberately pocketed the bike’s key, then turned toward her, moving with the slow, predatory stalk of an animal on a mission. “You made a deal. I take you to the coast. You follow my orders. All my orders.”
Her mouth opened, closed. “I’m not in the mood.” Liar, liar.
He struck then, throwing her over his shoulder. When she arched up against his hold, his hand smacked her ass. “You want me to paddle your ass cherry-red?” he snapped. “Because I can do that.”
“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.