Playing Easy to Get
Page 10
But Sofia was...intoxicating. There was no other word to describe her, and even that was sadly lacking.
As Mikael approached the Outsider wench, she warily eyed him up and down. It took her a suspended moment, but she eventually granted his friend a small, if nervous, smile.
Wenches loved Mikael--it was ever the way of it. Young maidens swooned at his feet, all of them praying she would be the one he bid on when at last 'twas her turn to stand on the marriage auction block.
The native girls would be heartbroken. Mikael had his sights fixed on Sofia.
Johen's nostrils flared. He didn't even know the Outsider wench, yet he found himself detesting the thought of another Viking touching her. 'Twould have been bad enough watching her sold off to a man he scarcely knew, but to a noble he counted among his closest friends?
Johen envisioned being greeted at Mikael's dwelling by Sofia, all soft curves and swelled breasts. He would be forced to watch as his comrade made lusty eyes at her over the evening repast. Mikael would be thinking ahead, to the time after Johen departed, anticipating thrusting into the body he now owned by the law....
His stomach muscles clenched. Johen couldn't explain his powerful reaction to Sofia, but it was all-consuming. No man should touch her. No man but him.
Despite his vow, Johen's feet carried him to the raised platform where she stood.
The potency of the erotisk all but made Sofia moan. She felt like a trapped animal in heat. There was but one cure to the desperation gnawing in her belly and battling that need only served to work her up that much more intensely.
A man approached her. A big man, and quite handsome, though not so formidable as the unsmiling one possessed of gray eyes and an emotionless face. She knew this man wouldn't do. Like the Viking her damned libido kept forcing her gaze to stray back to, the new male threat was too powerful a foe to ever escape from.
Sofia swallowed as he eyed her up and down. He looked his fill at her naked body and face, and she couldn't help but notice his erection through the leather pants he wore. Tall, raven-haired, and forbiddingly muscular, he was as frightening-looking as he was handsome.
The last thing on earth she wanted was for this man to bid on her. Nevertheless, she granted him a small, barely there smile as a safeguard.
If he married her, she didn't want him on his guard any more than he would already be.
She would pretend compliance. Or at least attempt to.
He winked down at her, and she swallowed again.
Just when she thought the situation couldn't possibly get grimmer, he ascended the stage--the man with the silver eyes and stoic face.
Tall and broad, his lethal musculature was a heady sight. Their gazes clashed and she felt close to hyperventilating. An aura of power surrounded him. She'd never met a harder, more determined and dangerous male in all of her life.
His gaze raked over her, his eyelids heavy with desire. It was the only emotion Sofia'd seen him betray thus far, and the very last one she wanted.
Her body reacted to his stare against her volition, her nipples stabbing out farther until they were swollen and aching. Her hands balled into fists at her sides, fingernails digging into her palms.
There was no denying his impressive good looks, but she didn't want a husband like him! Short, overweight and out-of-shape was the ideal ticket--getting through the wedding night with such a man wouldn't even be necessary because she could knock him out and run. She hoped.
But this man?
Her worried gaze flicked between the two potential buyers. They would both bid on her. Without a doubt these Viking men wanted her.
The erotisk continued to work its dark magic and she closed her eyes briefly, praying the worst of the herb would wear off soon.
She needed her wits about her. The hours to come would be crucial ones.
Chapter Seven
S ofia...
Her name was as exotic and beautiful as she was. Johen imagined himself calling it out as he slammed in and out of her, his cock jerking and throbbing as he came into her body.
"Milords," the auctioneer said with a respectful bow, "we've a lot of brides up for sale this eve and so the auction must proceed anon. Do I hear a first bid?"
"Ten thousand," Mikael announced without a pause.
"Fifteen," another said.
Every muscle in Johen's body tensed. The vow he'd made to himself was forgotten. "Twenty."
Mikael's surprised gaze darted over to Johen; his attention had been trained on Sofia.
Mikael's eyebrows slowly rose. His half-smile was amused, and bedamn it, quite smug. Mikael wasn't the only warlord in New Sweden with a rogue's reputation. Leastways, the other noble was as astonished to espy Johen bidding on a bride as Johen had been to see him doing so.
"Twenty-five," Mikael said, his eyes dancing.
Johen grunted. "Thirty."
He could hear the murmurings of the crowd. 'Twas a heady sum to pay for a bride, and every man present knew it.
Johen's gaze strayed to Sofia. She looked scared, and he couldn't fault her for it. All conversation was transpiring in a language she knew naught of. In time she would come to know the Viking tongue; for now, all that mattered was ensuring he would be the one teaching it to her.
"Does any noble amongst you bid thirty-five?"
Johen's gaze swept over the other men, his possessive expression speaking volumes. Wisely, no man thought to gainsay him.
Not even Mikael. Surprising, considering how much they enjoyed baiting each other.
"Going once. Going twice..."
Gods, she is beautiful. His cock was so hard it ached.
"The bride Sofia Rowley is sold to Lord Stefsson for thirty thousand coins!"
And now she was his! All his.
Johen barely noticed when Mikael affectionately thumped him on the back; he was too occupied with staring at the wench standing before him. His wife.
She was scared. Sofia mayhap spoke nary a word of their tongue, yet her expression told him that she understood her fate.
Sofia didn't need to speak their language to know what was happening. If the congratulatory pats on the back given to Silver Eyes weren't obvious enough, the auctioneer placing her hand in his spoke volumes.
She was married to him. By the laws of this bizarre world, the barbarian with the unsmiling face was now her husband.
She shivered, though she didn't know if it was from fear engulfing her brain, the erotisk smothering every nerve in her body or both. Her turquoise eyes widened as he gently tugged on her hands.
"I am Johen," the giant said softly, his gaze finding hers. "Your master."
He spoke English. She didn't know if that was a good thing or not. She also didn't know what to say in reply. Her master? Good lord.
Sofia swallowed heavily, her breasts heaving up and down with her heavy breathing. Perspiration broke out on her forehead as her pulse picked up in tempo. Again, she didn't know if the changes were a result of terror or arousal.
Her heart told her this couldn't be happening, but her mind knew that it was. This was no dream. Her brother was dead, and she had been kidnapped mere minutes after his funeral. Stripped of clothes and her dignity, she now stood before a man telling her that she was his possession.
The herb hit her in the belly hard, forcing her to stifle a gasp. "My name is Sofia Rowley," she said quickly, trying to cover up her intense arousal. She squeezed her thighs together as if trying to juice a lemon. If she ever got her hands on Myria...
"Stefsson," the man countered, snagging her attention. "Lady Sofia Stefsson is your name."
She would deal with the implications of his declaration later. For now, she was too busy trying to thwart the erotisk.
"I'm not feeling well," she gasped, stifling a moan. God, how she needed to come! "Please...I need to lie down."
Preferably someplace private, where she could masturbate like there was no tomorrow. Once replete, she could concentrate on what her intuition screamed
was impossible: escaping the man who called himself her husband.
Johen's cock had never been so hard.
Though he had purchased an Outsider bride who would try to escape from him if he ever lowered his guard, he didn't care. She was his fantasy, with lush, full hips, a rounded arse, plump tits, and a face he would never tire of drinking in.
At this moment, she feared and mayhap loathed him. Given time and patience, she would grow to love him just as his mother had come to love his sire.
"I'm not feeling well," she said, her voice sounding choked. "Please...I need to lie down."
Her fear was to be expected. 'Twould nearly kill him to delay the consummation of their marriage, but it was the honorable thing to do. If he wanted her to grow to love and trust him, he had to earn it.
"Come," he said quietly, trying not to scare her with his usual gruff tone of voice. His passion-drunk gaze swept over her face, her body, unable to resist staring at those ripe, stiff nipples. "I will take you to our dwelling."
Chapter Eight
T he trip to Johen's sector was quite lengthy, surprising her as to the vastness of this unknown world. Methods of Underground travel were proving to be efficient and complex.
Johen had explained to a distracted Sofia that when trekking from one village to another within New Sweden, a mine car could take you wherever it was you needed to go. The Viking version of a subway, she supposed. But when traveling outside the colony, as they were now to Hannu, a boat that braved the icy Viking rivers belowground was necessary.
The air was frigid, mercilessly lashing against her face. Thankfully, Johen had removed his chain-mail tunic and covered her with it before leaving the bride auction. It was heavy, bulky and scratchy, but it was keeping her pretty warm. The erotisk was doing a good job of that too.
Sofia closed her eyes and held onto the boat rail, telling herself she wasn't aroused. The icy air beating her face should have acted as a deterrent, but it didn't. Every second of every minute passed like a year. She repeatedly squeezed her thighs together, praying the boat would soon dock and Johen would leave her alone in a bedroom where she could take matters into her own hands--literally.
"We've five minutes more and we'll be home," Johen announced, threading her fingers through his. "Our dwelling lies close to the docks."
Good. If she didn't get to a private room soon, she was liable to start masturbating like a lunatic right here and now.
"Okay," Sofia breathed out.
Her clit was pulsing, throbbing. She needed to touch herself so badly. Just when she thought she couldn't take it anymore, the boat docked.
Sofia expected Johen's home to be as simple and rustic as the room she'd been locked in for five days and nights. It was surprising to be led into a lavish Underground house bursting at the seams with luxury.
Silk pillows and draperies of every color imaginable filled each room, bringing to mind the extravagant home of an Arabian sultan. Servants lingered everywhere, seeing to various chores, humming tunes to themselves as if pleased in their work.
Sofia blew out a none-too-subtle breath as Johen steered her into his bedroom. The bed was huge--at least double the size of her king bed back in Florida--and ornately carved from a black material she couldn't name. Proud dragon heads had been sculpted into the foot of it. Sheer blue and green silks draped down from the eight posters that thrust up from the gargantuan-size bed.
"I do not expect that we will consummate our union this eve," Johen said softly as he turned her around to stand before him. "Yet we will always sleep under the same bed furs, never to be separated."
Those silver eyes betrayed his desire. He was controlled enough to keep his hands off of her, but Sofia realized it was the last thing he wanted to do.
The self-preserving part of her brain was thankful that he didn't want to have sex tonight, since she planned to run. She knew that being intimate with him might make him all the more territorial where she was concerned.
Two strong hands landed on her shoulders and her gaze flew up to meet his. Johen tugged at the chain mail she wore, his eyes filled with unapologetic lust as he removed it.
"What are you doing?" Sofia breathed out. Her pulse soared, heart thumping in her chest. "I-I thought..."
"I will not breach you," he said, his voice hoarse. His gaze drank her in as she stood before him naked. "I just want to touch you."
His callused palms rested at the juncture of her neck. Slowly his hands trailed down, feeling every curve of her breasts. His palms scraped her sensitive nipples and Sofia couldn't suppress the small moan that escaped.
"So beautiful," Johen murmured, gently massaging her stiff nipples. "And so mine."
He played with her breasts and nipples for torturously long minutes. Every second felt like an hour, destroying Sofia's concentration. She was this close to coming and knew it wasn't wise. She had to fight the arousal--refuse to give into it.
His fingers found her vaginal lips. He played slowly with them while she sucked in a deep tug of air.
"Please," Sofia begged, her voice shaky. His forefinger found her clit and began rubbing her tantalizingly. "Please stop."
Her plea didn't sound credible even to her own ears. She could see his large erection swollen against his leather pants and wondered if he'd be able to pull himself back.
"You are wet with need," Johen said hoarsely, "yet I will respect your wishes."
He rubbed her clit a few more times, then withdrew. Sofia whimpered--in relief or misery?
Lord help her, a saint couldn't withstand torture like this! Desire clawed at her belly; she would never survive this night with her sanity intact!
Her eyes frenzied, her entire body on fire, she ached so badly that she was in actual pain.
Unable to endure it another moment, her brain too frazzled to consider the consequences, Sofia scrambled up onto the bed, spread her thighs wide, and began vigorously masturbating.
Beads of sweat broke out on Johen's forehead at the carnal sight. How could she expect him not to consummate with her this eve when she was stroking her pussy right there in front of him? His jaw steeled.
Sweet Odin.
"Oh, God," Sofia moaned, rubbing her clit in urgent circles. "Oh, yes."
She was lying on her back, golden ringlets of hair fanned out around her head. Her legs were wide open, showing him the tight flesh he wanted to impale more than he wanted to breathe. Her nipples stabbed straight up, beckoning to his mouth.
Johen's teeth gritted. Why was she doing this to him?
Sofia came on a loud groan, her nipples growing impossibly harder. Her neck arched and her eyes closed, yet she still wanted more.
"It's not enough," she gasped, her voice sounding almost terrified. "When will it wear off?"
She continued her relentless quest for satiation, nearly killing him. What man could resist this?
Then Johen stilled as her words sank in. When will it wear off? When will what wear off?
The answer slowly dawned on him. Old Myria was chiefly responsible for the captive brides' well-being until they were put up for auction. Old Myria...the herbalist.
Sofia had been pumped full of erotisk.
Sweet, sweet Odin.
Johen peeled off his clothes until he wore nothing but his gold, jewel-encrusted bicep bands. His cock was stone-hard, and more than eager to help his wife out of her carnal predicament.
He got onto the bed beside her, resting his weight on an elbow. "'Twill be all right," he said reassuringly, his free hand massaging her nipples. He couldn't help but lower his mouth to one. He closed his eyes briefly as he suckled it, firmly drawing on the swollen nub.
She moaned, coming loudly. He nigh unto spilled himself at the sound, at her scent. Suppressing a moan of his own, he released her nipple with a popping sound and laved attention on the neglected one.
"Ohgggggoooooood!"
She came. And came and came and came.
Gods, but he'd never seen a sexier wench.
She whimpered. His cock throbbed, knowing he was up for the challenge. Pre-cum dripped from the tiny hole, desperation to be inside of her scraping at his gut.
"Come, little one," Johen said thickly as she resumed playing with herself. His hand recommenced playing with her breasts, massaging her stiff nipples.
Sofia burst on yet another loud groan, her head falling back and mouth ajar. Her breathing was heavy, her need still great.
"Please," she said in a little voice that got to him in a way no wench before her ever had. "Help me."
She looked so scared, so defenseless. It moved him in a way he couldn't name. Wide, innocent eyes and a wanton's body--'twas a heady combination.
Johen blew out a breath. He didn't want to take her like this, but he didn't want her in unnecessary pain, either.
Hard and ready, he moved between his wife's thighs. Preparing to enter her, he threaded his rough fingers through the soft silk of her golden hair, his eyes finding her amazing green-blue gaze.
"Do you want me to help?" He positioned the tip of his cock at the opening of her pussy. If she said nay, he might not be able to stop. "Do you desire this consummation?"
"Yes!" she wailed. Her hands grabbed his buttocks, pulling him closer. Her eyes were wide, desperate. "Please get inside of me!"
Teeth gritting, muscles tensing, Johen slowly pushed his long, thick cock into her pussy. He groaned as he impaled her, seating himself to the hilt in hot, wet paradise.
Sofia came immediately. Violently. She screamed, fingernails digging into the rigid flesh of his arse.
Already close to coming, Johen utilized every drop of self-will to hold back his orgasm. He began to move slowly within her tight flesh, his entire body clenched in a pleasure that was almost an agony. He had to concentrate on his wife's needs rather than his own.
"Faster," Sofia panted. She threw her hips up at him, pounding against him. "Faster, harder," she ground out.
Johen growled, giving her what she needed. He drove deep, impaling her in long, fast strokes. She keened in response, coming more times than he could count.
"You belong to me," Johen said possessively, riding her hard. "Your pussy, your everything--never forget that you are mine."