by Sasha Gold
Ragnar eyed the spilled wine, the glasses and half-empty bottle. He frowned and cast a glance at the unconscious Vrandarian, bound in his chair. “Is this your idea of a party?” he asked.
Natasha laughed breathlessly and then sobered. “Don’t try to change the subject. I want you to swear that when you find Elise, she’ll be safe, and she won’t be sent to a Jaegarian prison. She didn’t steal for her own gain. She stole to build this colony as a safe place for outcasts.”
He nodded, moving closer. “Of course.”
“Swear it, Ragnar. Mercy over justice.”
His lips twitched. “You have something to offer?”
He stepped to the other side of the table, close enough for his scent to hit her. She shivered. She’d missed him so much. The urge to set aside any bargaining came over her. All she wanted was to let him fold her in his arms and hold her forever, but she needed to know Elise would be safe. No matter what.
Ragnar’s lips tilted with the barest hint of a smile. “Well? What can you give me to make it worth my while? Your sister is a great deal of trouble.”
“What do you want?”
His smile spread slowly. His lids grew lidded. He growled softly. “You. In my bed. You. Naked and begging me to claim your body. Willing. Eager to be my mate.”
A thrill of arousal rushed through her. In her mind, she cried out her breathless agreement, but she had to stand firm. Ragnar had the ability to make her take complete leave of reason and she had to stand firm.
She crossed her arms and deliberately waited to respond. He moved around the table, but she kept her distance, circling. He shook his head, his eyes lit with desire. She tried to appear to mull over his offer. She knit her brow. After a moment, she stopped moving away from him and nodded. “I agree.”
He closed the distance between them. Taking her hand, he led her to a darkened hallway.
“I don’t want to kiss you in front of that bastard,” he muttered. “Even if you probably knocked him out for a long time.”
She cupped his jaw. “I missed you.”
“You better have missed me,” he growled. “And you better have realized how much you love me. And how much I love you.”
Her eyes stung, but she didn’t fight the emotion. “I do love you.”
He lifted her off her feet, pressed her gently against the wall and crushed his mouth to hers. The kiss was rough. Possessive. She wrapped her arms around his neck and submitted to his kiss. Parting her lips, she moaned softly as he stroked her wickedly with his tongue. He growled his approval.
When she wrapped her legs around his waist, he groaned. With a shudder, he pressed his erection against her. The feel of his arousal sent an answering jolt of need through her.
“Take me home, Ragnar,” she whispered. “I’m ready to be your mate.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ragnar
When the Vrandarians were taken to a Jaegarian prison, Paula and her charges were left without protection. Paula claimed they were safe. When Ragnar, Gunnar and Natasha returned to Jaegar, Ragnar gathered a group of his best men and sent them to Cresenta. He wouldn’t leave them without sentries, despite Paula’s protests.
Once that matter was settled, Ragnar turned his attention to Natasha. Their first night back on Jaegar, she’d slept peacefully next to him. He’d been content to hold her in his arms. While she slumbered, he planned the next few days, a trip to Jaegar’s virtual playground, Synthesia.
The next morning, he met Gunnar on the flight deck. “I thought you’d left to get Elise.”
“I was set to go to the Fargian Sector and get her, but her captors have requested more money.”
Ragnar fisted his hands. “She’s safe?”
Gunnar nodded. “The Fargians have her away from the rest of the prison population since she’s worth a great deal. But they claim she’s frightened the sentries. The men are drawing straws for guard duty. They’ve doubled the ransom.”
“Pay it. Whatever they want.”
Gunnar scowled. “I intend to.”
Ragnar relaxed. “Are you prepared to deal with her?”
“Of course. She’s just a headstrong girl. How much trouble can she give me?”
Ragnar shook his head. “Don’t ask.”
“I need to get my hands on Elise, so I can stop thinking about her. For some reason, I’m worried about a Maiden who’s caused me nothing but headaches.”
Gunnar left with a few of his men. Ragnar considered telling Natasha about the new demands of the Fargian prison, but decided against it. If Gunnar was taking care of the matter, it was as good as completed. Ragnar had ideas for Natasha and wanted her all to himself. Not worrying about Elise.
He also didn’t want her worrying about Major Sebastian. The woman and her underlings had vanished from Andromeda. The intelligence he’d received was that they wanted to spread their twisted ideas about oddballs and misfits. They especially despised people who’d been born a twin. He wouldn’t trouble Natasha with this news. He had more pressing matters to put to bed.
Later, when his preparations were complete, he brought Natasha to the Synthesia portals. She held his hand and regarded the doors with worry.
“How long are we staying?”
“Several days. As long as we want.”
“I’m worried about Elise.”
“Gunnar’s going for her. I’m sure she’ll be here when we return.”
Natasha’s lips curved into a smile. “Don’t I need to bring anything with me?”
“Everything you need is inside.”
With the help of a few Jaegarian women, Ragnar had made all the necessary arrangements for Natasha. Clothes for Natasha to wear. Or not wear. Food. Wine. Perfect sunsets. Everything was in place for him to woo and romance his mate.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
She nodded. The doors whooshed open. He stepped through and they closed behind him. No one would dare bother him here. He and Natasha would have this playground to themselves. She looked around and took in their environment. He’d chosen a tropical island with pristine, white sand, turquoise water and palm trees that swayed in the gentle breeze.
“I’ve never seen anything so beautiful,” she whispered.
Taking her hand, he led her to the water’s edge. The waves lapped at their feet. On the horizon, the sun sank below the waves, setting the water on fire with a crimson glow.
“We’re going to go swimming. Naked.” he said. “That’s the first order of events.”
She gasped and then pushed his shoulder. “No!”
He nodded. With a smile tugging at his lips, he undid the top buttons of her dress. Playfully, she pushed his hands aside. With a smile, she proceeded to slowly undress, pausing every so often to give him a teasing smile. As much as he wanted to disrobe her, he loved the seductive look in her eyes, her confidence and sass.
By the time she was naked, every muscle in his body was taut. He’d broken into a sweat and a growl rumbled in his chest. He tugged at his shirt, but once again she thwarted him, brushing his hands away from his shirt. A small laugh tumbled from her lips as she ran her fingertips under the material.
“Natasha,” he snarled.
She blinked. “What?’
He fisted his hands, forcing himself to keep from touching her. “Stop toying with me.”
“I’m not toying. I’m tending.”
He bared his lips. “Tending?”
She nodded, affecting a look of innocence and submissiveness. “I’m tending to my mate.”
His ability to respond intelligibly was fading by the second, and his self-control hung by a fragile thread. The best he could do was a primitive snarl. With that she pulled off his shirt and let her gaze drop to his chest.
As she skimmed her fingers over his muscles, he shuddered. He’d have a lifetime of this touch and as often as he’d tried to imagine his mate’s touch, nothing came close. Her fingers ignited a trail of fire over his skin as she finished undressing him.
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Coaxing her into the warm water, he relished the look of amazement on her face. Her eyes sparkled. When the depth got too deep, he lifted her in his arms.
“Wrap your legs around me.”
“I know how to swim, Ragnar. I was the best swimmer-”
“In your flight class. I’m sure you were the best everything in your flight class.”
They swam together as dusk gave way to night. One by one the stars began to twinkle above them and when the breeze grew chilled, they got out. Across the beach was a house, lit with torches that flickered in the night air. They dried off with towels they found on the deck and went inside.
After a candlelit dinner under the stars, Ragnar took her back to the water’s edge. The moon rose and lit the surf with a soft, silvery light. Walking hand in hand, they talked and laughed and stopped every so often to kiss.
“I like the way the sand feels between my toes,” Natasha said, laughing. “I’ve never walked barefoot before.”
“Or swam naked before.”
She laughed again and hopped over a wave as it washed over the sand. Mistiming her jump, she came down in the water, splashing Ragnar’s leg. He retaliated by splashing her back. Soon they were, playing, each one trying to soak the other. When Natasha sprayed him with an especially well-aimed shot, he growled and chased her back to the house. She was almost there when he scooped her into his arms with a barbaric snarl.
“You’re mine now, little mate,” he announced, carrying her inside and through the house.
When he reached the bedroom, he tossed her on the bed. She giggled and was about to tell him something, that he was a brute, no doubt. Instead, she looked around the room in wonder. Hundreds of candles flickered, lighting the room with shadowed light. White roses spilled from vases and perfumed the air.
“Ragnar,” she whispered. “This is beautiful.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Natasha
Feral light glittered in Ragnar’s eyes. The candles, hundreds and hundreds of them, cast shadows across his features. He cupped her breast with one hand and held her in his gaze as he rubbed her nipple with the pad of this thumb.
“You’re beautiful. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
She flushed and shivered. His touch sent darts of arousal through her.
He pinched her nipple gently. “Even when I first saw you, dressed in that brown Maiden uniform, you took my breath away.”
His words surprised her. The moment she first lay eyes on Ragnar was vivid in her mind, and to her recollection he’d looked at her with a teasing glint in his eye. Not admiration. “You said I looked like a child.”
Shaking his head, he smiled at her. “I didn’t think you looked like a child. I thought you looked strong and smart and lovely. I wanted to steal you even before I saw you. Your scent was making me wild.”
She let her gaze fall to his shoulders and chest. He was powerful. Under any other circumstances, she’d have been intimidated by his immense build.
“I think you’re beautiful, too.”
A jolt of surprise went through his body. He blinked. “What?”
She giggled at his response. “Can I say that about you? That you’re beautiful?”
He growled softly and shook his head. His expression was foreboding but she could see the way the corner of his lips twitched. He was trying to keep from smiling at her. He prowled over the bed.
“Is that not allowed?” she teased.
He narrowed his eyes as he crouched over her.
“The most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.”
He flipped her to her stomach and swatted her ass.
She squealed and jerked around to face him. “That stings.”
He lowered, brushing his lips against hers. “Want me to kiss it better?”
Without answering, she cupped his jaw. A rough stubble covered his skin. His scent filled her with a powerful need for more of his touch.
“I want you to kiss my lips, Ragnar. And then I want you to make me your mate.”
He groaned. “Do you know how much I love you, my sweet Natasha?”
“I don’t think so.” She laughed softly.
Taking her hand, he set it in the middle of his chest. “With all my heart.”
She took his hand and set it between her breasts. He glanced down and smiled, making dimples appear on his cheeks. “And I love you with all of my heart.”
A growl rumbled in his chest. “You’d better.”
He skimmed his hand lower, down her stomach and to the sensitive skin along the inside of her thighs. Without any conscious thought, she parted her legs. He held her gaze as he ran his fingers along her core. She was slick with arousal.
“Nataaasha,” he said, dragging her name out as he stroked her. “You’re wet. Wet for me.”
She moaned softly. “I want you, Ragnar.”
He rose up, bracing himself on one arm, making his muscles flex. He looked immense and powerful and as he shook his head, his eyes glittered. “No.”
“No?” she breathed.
“I won’t take you until I’ve made you scream my name.”
She drew a breath to protest his refusal. All she wanted was for him to claim her, but when he lowered to suck her nipple, her thoughts fled her mind. While he teased her breast with his tongue, he skimmed his hand between her legs and stroked her, mirroring with his fingers the wicked movement of his tongue.
Her senses tightened. She writhed and pleaded, until finally he moved down the length of her body. Nudging her thighs apart with his shoulders, he kissed a trail down her stomach. By the time he stroked her with his tongue, she was panting. Mindless.
Threading her fingers through his hair, she grew aware of the soft cries that spilled from her lips. They were sounds she hardly recognized and they grew higher with each stroke of his tongue. When he brushed his finger across her, and swirled his tongue, she reached her breaking point. An explosion of pleasure spun through her body. Arching beneath him, she screamed. “Ragnar…”
Stars burst behind her eyes and she whimpered as he kissed his way back up her body.
“So beautiful, my sweet Natasha. My mate. My Prima. My everything.”
As her pleasure ebbed, she trembled. He settled between her legs and stroked her with the head of his shaft. She drew a sharp breath and moaned when he touched her clit.
“I want to fuck you. Now, Natasha.”
“Yes. Now.”
He rocked his hips, entering her with the head of his cock. He was big, too big, she thought with a momentary flash of panic. He held her with his eyes and shook his head. “Don’t be afraid, Prima.”
She nodded.
Slowly and with deliberate gentleness, he eased into her, a tiny bit more with each thrust. His lips twisted. She could see what it cost him to be so gentle. Each stroke filled her more. Part of her mind wanted to pull back, but her body had a will of its own. Her legs lifted to clasp his hips. Her hands sought the ridges of muscles banding his chest. His muscles rippled with power and strength.
“You’re mine, Natasha. All mine.”
“Yes, Ragnar.”
His lips curved into a smile.
Baring his teeth, he snarled as he pushed deeper. A sharp stab of pain was followed by a delicious fullness as he thrust into her. He kept his eyes on hers until finally he’d filled her completely. Then he lowered, and captured her mouth with a devouring kiss.
Sparks fired along her senses. The moment he was inside her, it was as if he took possession of her body. No longer did she have control. With each thrust, he owned her. Beneath her palms, his body was steel. Bands of muscles spanned his back. His hips rolled with each thrust. She felt her pleasure surge again. Digging her fingers into his shoulder, she clung to him as he drove her higher.
“Who do you belong to, Natasha?” he growled.
“To you, Ragnar.”
“Mine,” he snarled.
And everything fell away as he pushed her beyond what she c
ould bear. She arched beneath him, and gasped his name once again, this time a desperate plea. With a deep rumble in his chest, one she both heard and felt, he lowered to bite her neck. She cried softly as his teeth sank into her neck.
The bite was too much. An exquisite mix of pain and ecstasy. A scream tore from her throat. He followed an instant later, snarling her name as he thrust hard inside her. She felt his climax. His cock pulsed as he filled her with his seed. He gripped her hips and rocked hard, making her climax spike again, harder and more mind-rending than the first. Her back bowed off the bed and she cried out his name as her pleasure burned through her body.
Ragnar collapsed beside her, keeping her in his arms as they both fought to catch their breath. Covered in a light sheen of perspiration, his chest rose and fell, his ribs expanding and contracting like bellows.
Finally, their breathing quieted.
He stroked her face, brushing her hair from her eyes. “Better.”
She smiled. “Better?”
“Better than I’d ever imagined. And I’d imagined you for so long that I was starting to think I’d never meet you.”
She ran her fingers through his hair and kissed him. He rolled her back and inspected her neck and then lifted his gaze to her eyes. The look there, so tender and loving, stole her breath.
“I hurt you?”
“No. Even if it had hurt, I’m glad you marked me. I want everyone to know I’m yours.”
He rested his forehead against hers. “If they didn’t know before, they do now, my sweet Natasha. You belong to me. From this day forward, there’s nothing that will come between us.”
Epilogue
Natasha
Natasha soon discovered she was with child. Ragnar, who at times could be gruff and demanding, instantly became gentle and even more protective of her. In the mornings, when she felt ill, he brought her a tea that Birgitta brewed herself. He insisted Natasha rest every afternoon. When she ignored his wishes, he made a point of returning to the palace, and taking her to bed himself.
Ragnar was impossible, but he was nothing in comparison to Birgitta. When Natasha had first met Birgitta, the woman had been on her deathbed, at least that’s what everyone assumed. Since then, she’d transformed into a whirlwind of energy.