Playing Easy to Get

by Sherrilyn Kenyon

  Later he would work on claiming her heart, her soul. For now all he could do was bask in her tight depths, gluttonously devouring every inch of her.

  Sofia's hips rose to his, meeting him thrust for thrust. "I won't forget--just don't stop!"

  Johen took her impossibly harder. He moaned as he rode her, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh as arousing as the scent of her orgasms. Over and over, deeper and faster, possessively branding her as his.

  He could no longer hold himself back. The orgasm was ripping through him and he couldn't stop it. "I'm coming, here I come, little one."

  He came on a loud roar as she milked every last drop of him. His entire body convulsed atop hers, tense muscles loosening in the all-consuming explosion.

  Johen held her closely, his breathing heavy, his body slick with sweat. He murmured to her of her sexiness, of her beauty...and of his promise that one day soon she would love him.

  He could only hope his words proved true.

  They were husband and wife. Master and cherished one. He would have it no other way.

  Chapter Nine

  Three days later

  I vow to you that they will not bite," Johen said with a wink as, hand-in-hand, he steered Sofia toward his parents' house. "'Twill be all right."

  Sofia doubted it. For one, the erotisk still hadn't totally worn off. Her urges weren't as all-consuming as they'd been over the past three days, but they still simmered. Her cheeks suffused with heat, thinking about the possible embarassments.

  Second, she was still feeling shell-shocked. In a little over a week Sofia had borne the death of her only relative, survived a kidnapping, been stripped of her clothing and possessions, then sold to the highest bidder on an auction block.

  The clothes Johen had given her in replacement were shockingly indecent. The gold tunic was undeniably beautiful, but much too sheer for Sofia's peace of mind. The barely-there dress was supported at the top by an elastic band that began just above her cleavage line and draped down to her ankles. Red rope crisscrossed at her hips and kept the hemline from falling all the way to her toes. Her nipples pressed against the sheer top, stiff and aroused. To say she was mortified by her attire was the millenium's greatest understatement.

  All in all, there were plenty of times when she felt like she was in the midst of a long, weird dream.

  And Sofia felt uncomfortable pretending to be compliant while plotting her escape all the while. It would have been so much easier if she could hate Lord Johen Stefsson.

  If he'd mistreated or abused her. If he'd forced her into having sex. Or withheld it, knowing the potent herb was driving her crazy. Hell, even being ugly would have helped!

  You're simply going through Stockholm syndrome. You aren't the first woman alive to start identifying with her captor, and you won't be the last. Fight against it....

  She had nothing to feel guilty about. She had been kidnapped, and it was normal to want her freedom.

  And yet the guilt was there whenever the giant gazed down at her with stars in his eyes and she smiled back at him.

  Why did he do that? Why? He'd known her all of three days. He couldn't possibly be in love with her!

  Johen was a battle-honed soldier, a wise and respected leader of his people. He was not a young boy who couldn't separate lust from love. At thirty-six, Johen was not only four years her senior, but judging by his skill in bed, he'd been around the block more times than the ice-cream man.

  And yet...

  Despite his brains, regardless of his brawn, there was something inexplicably naive about him. Johen looked at her with such hope, such longing--as if she wielded the power to make him or break him. Sofia couldn't understand why, but it was getting to her.

  She didn't want to hurt him. Despite everything, she truly didn't. Call it Stockholm syndrome, call it something else altogether, but she had no desire at all to wound this man who called himself her husband.

  "I'll survive this meal somehow," Sofia said quietly. A pang of arousal lanced through her, forcing her to clench her vaginal muscles. "Preferably without making a fool of myself."

  Johen chuckled. It was the first time she'd ever heard him do that, and she found herself giving him a genuine smile.

  Stop it! Don't you understand that I need to hate you?

  "The only fool here is I," Johen replied, coming to a stop before the door to his parents' house. He drew her hand up to his lips and softly kissed it. "I'm fool-crazy over you."

  Sofia mentally sighed. Apparently he didn't understand.

  The door abruptly opened. Startled, Sofia's gaze landed on the handsome couple standing there--his parents.

  They eyed her up and down, as if assessing her worthiness for their son. Stupid as it was, she found their scrutiny even more nerve-racking than the bride auction three days past. Sofia had no reason to be bothered by what these people thought of her, and part of her wished they disliked what they saw, so she'd feel better when she ran from Johen.

  It didn't look like that would be happening.

  The father's smile was wide, the mother's all but beaming. "Greetings, daughter," the older man said, his eyes dancing. "I am Eemil and this is my wife, Amani." He respectfully inclined his head. "Welcome to our dwelling."

  Sofia forced a smile to her lips, every nerve in her body frayed. "Thank you."

  As Johen's parents led her into their home, Sofia decided this had the makings of a long night. An aura of exuberance haloed the gathering, while she felt as though she'd ridden a twister into the land of Oz.

  Dinner was unlike anything Sofia had ever tasted. As she listened to the conversation taking place, namely, the story of Amani's capture and marriage to the big Viking beside her, she understood why the flavor of the meal was so unique.

  A mix of two cultures, the food was just like the house's decor--Conan the Barbarian meets Princess Jasmine of Arabia.

  "My sister and I thought we might faint," Amani mused in a lyrical Arabic accent. "Arranged marriages were nothing new to us, but the Viking culture was much to take in, for two women who'd lived such sheltered lives."

  Eemil chuckled at the memory. "I believe you did faint, my love. Leastways, I seem to remember reviving you, only to have you see me and faint dead away yet again."

  The family shared a laugh and Sofia found her lips twitching, too, despite herself. She could empathize with Amani's plight only too well.

  "I do not recall fainting," Johen's mother teasingly sniffed.

  "Aye, you did," Eemil quickly countered. "Right at my bedamned feet."

  "Oh shush!"

  Sofia's gaze strayed to Johen's grinning face. It was obvious he and his parents were very close. The love and bond they shared was a tangible thing.

  Johen looked like a younger, but strikingly similar version of his father. Same height and musculature, same teasing eyes and smile. From Amani he had inherited his dark hair and olive complexion.

  Yet as much as Sofia found the conversation amusing and intriguing, it was also horribly alarming. In the first year of her marriage, Amani had run from Eemil several times, only to be recaptured by him in mere hours. She had raged against him, declaring her hatred toward him, his people and all that they stood for.

  All to no avail.

  Amani had possessed the advantage of hatred and fury, not to mention an ally in her sister, and yet still she had not escaped. Sofia briefly closed her eyes. She had no ally in this world, or any hatred toward Johen to conjure up and call upon. Even her fury seemed to come and go.

  Don't let them break you, Sofia. Remember what it was to be free.

  The more she watched them interact, the more she saw her own childhood family reflected in their smiles. She had forgotten what it felt like for mother and father, daughter and son, to gather around a dinner table and just enjoy being alive and together. It was appealing to her, and she didn't like it.

  Oh, Sam, do you remember how good things were before Mom and Dad died? It's been so many years since I
've allowed myself to remember.

  Pancake breakfasts on Saturdays. Washing the family car on Sundays. Love, affection and a sense of belonging every day of the week.

  All of that had been taken by a cruel twist of fate. For years she'd had no one but her brother. Now she didn't even have him. Above the ground, she was utterly and completely alone.

  Johen's gaze strayed toward Sofia's. He looked at her questioningly, but thankfully didn't call attention to her. He could see the distress on her face, the unshed tears, and doubtless knew something was wrong--he just didn't know what it was.

  Unable to endure his stare, Sofia blinked several times in rapid succession while she regained her composure. Looking away, she trained her eyes on her meal, feigning interest in the chunks of spicy meat, vegetables and bread set before her.

  As Johen and Eemil engaged in a political conversation, Amani said, "I know it's overwhelming to you."

  Sofia's gaze darted over to meet Johen's mother. A second ago she had been seated halfway across the table. A blink later and she was right beside her. "Yes, it is." She sighed. "Very overwhelming."

  Amani nodded. Her hand found Sofia's atop the table and rested there. "You think to flee from my son."

  She thought about denying it, but there was no point to that. "Yes, I do," Sofia admitted, pulling her hand back. "Surely you can understand."

  "Oh yes," Amani agreed, her brown eyes gentle. The kindness she exuded made Sofia feel guilty. "I was you once, after all. I feel your every emotion and sympathize with it."

  "I sense a 'but' coming on."

  Amani's tone was tender, but firm. "But you cannot escape." When Sofia opened her mouth to rebut, Johen's mother placed a solitary finger to her lips. "You believe you can run successfully, and will believe so for some time to come. It's normal--we've all felt that way."

  "I'm different," Sofia quietly insisted. A part of her wondered how many Outsider brides had all said the same thing to no avail, and she ruthlessly squelched the thought. "I can't just accept this without a fight!"

  "Nor could I." Amani sighed. "I had thought to try and save you from all the marriage pains I endured when first wed, but I see now that it is not possible. You must learn these things for yourself."

  Oh, God, don't say that I'm just like you! Please stop!

  "Just know that I'm here if you need to talk. I've been in your shoes and I understand what it feels like to wear them."

  Deep inside, Sofia knew Amani was being genuine with her, not trying to deceive her into believing that escape wasn't possible when it was. The truth was even more defeating than lies.

  "Why?" Sofia asked, her voice shaking just a little. "Make me understand why." She kept her voice low so as not to be overheard by the men. Johen and Eemil were too embroiled in conversation to notice her rising anger, though. "Do they have a shortage of women down here or something?"

  "At times. Nothing noteworthy these days, though."

  Her nostrils flared. "Then why?"

  Sofia was nine-tenths rational logic and one tenth emotion. She loved and hated as strongly as the next person, but her brain wasn't wired in a stereotypical female fashion. She needed to understand, even in a world where reason might not exist.

  "Why do the men of my home country marry several wives?" Amani softly asked. "Why do your Christian countrymen take but one wife?" She waved a hand. "Why do the Jews fight the Muslims for the rights to the Holy Land, and Muslims fight them back just as fiercely for those same rights?"

  Sofia stilled. Because of their deeply held belief that it's the will of their particular God.

  Her shoulders slumped, the fight going out of her. She was tired, mentally and emotionally.

  "The Vikings believe in the will of the gods of Valhalla." Amani found Sofia's hand once again. "This culture is an ancient one, a civilization steeped in its own rules and doctrines. It is foreign to you, as it once was to me, but you will eventually see the Vikings for what they are--a good, family-oriented people."

  "But the world above the ground..." Sofia shook her head, not comprehending. "How can you just give up all hope of ever seeing it again?"

  Amani's smile was nostalgic. "Love can do many things to a woman."

  Sofia mentally rolled her eyes. She didn't mean any disrespect to Johen's mother, but she wasn't the type of person to be ruled by sentiment.

  "I'm happy for you that you fell in love with your husband," Sofia whispered, "but--"

  "Yes, I did," Amani interrupted. "But it was not my love for Eemil that I spoke of."

  Sofia raised a golden eyebrow.

  "It was Eemil's love for me that I found impossible to keep waging war against." Amani's gaze seemed to gentle each time she spoke of her husband. "Vikings, as you have witnessed, are raised differently from any culture above the ground."

  "That's an understatement," Sofia muttered.

  Amani grinned. "Yes, it is." Her expression grew serious. "But that difference is also shown in the love they harbor for their wives."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I'm not certain I can explain it," Amani said thoughtfully. "It's the way men raise their sons, I suppose."

  Sofia listened intently, a rapt audience.

  "They are taught that their bride is the center of all life and meaning. Down here, a man isn't complete without one. Through the woman, their house is blessed and the continuity of their line promised.

  "Emotionally," Amani continued, "a little boy is raised to dream of his future bride, romanticizing her perhaps a bit too much." She quietly chuckled. "Such tender emotions being taught to such a roughened group of males seems odd to us, but this is the way of it down here."

  That certainly explained a lot, namely how Johen could look at her with such naive love in his eyes. "Do they care if their love isn't returned?"

  "I've yet to see that happen. They expect it will take time to earn their bride's love, but they know that if they are good and patient and thoughtful husbands, eventually they will be rewarded and have her love in return."

  So they never gave up? Good grief.

  Sofia's emotions were in chaos. How could Johen possibly love someone he didn't know outside of the biblical sense? It made no sense.

  Then again, Sofia sighed, how could Johen--or any other Viking--marry and love a woman they'd never met before, based on a few moments at an auction? It was bizarre. This entire world was bizarre.

  She needed to find an exit before she lost her mind altogether. Or, worse yet, before everything started to make sense.

  What do I do? I feel so lost....

  Sofia ran her fingers through her hair, her mind racing. She needed to escape before Johen's feelings deepened. After listening to Amani's speech, she understood that he truly did care about her. Hurting him wasn't what she wanted to do.

  Her gaze strayed to where her husband sat. He was laughing and happy, his former stoic impassiveness gone.

  Because of me?

  Johen had married Sofia against her will, perhaps, but if he hadn't bought her, another man would have. He had shown her nothing but kindness and understanding. For that reason alone, she owed him respect and consideration.

  She would leave Johen's life with as few memories as possible. The quicker she clicked her ruby slippers and got back to Kansas, the less pain she would cause him.

  "One day, you will love my son," Amani promised, affectionately patting her hand a final time before standing. "I promise you that he will make you happy beyond your wildest dreams."

  Chapter Ten

  S ofia couldn't get away from Johen's parents' house fast enough. Not only did she need to escape from Amani's words, but the erotisk was hitting her hard. Her pulse had picked up and perspiration beaded on her forehead and between her breasts.

  "'Twill be all right," Johen murmured, leading her back toward his home. "We are almost there."

  "I don't think I can wait," Sofia shakily admitted. She looked up at his profile. "It hit me so hard that my belly hurts."


  His eyes seemed to gentle, though he didn't look down at her. He just kept walking, steering them away from the twenty-passenger mine car as quickly as possible.

  "It really aches," she gasped.

  They came to a halt before the metal elevator cages that would take them to the sector Johen called home. Sofia's teeth sank into her bottom lip, drawing blood as she watched two passengers disembark. Johen steered her into the metal contraption and closed the doors.

  "It hurts so bad," Sofia wailed. The journey felt like it would last forever.

  His jaw steeled as he guided the mechanism up half a floor, then brought it to a jarring stop. Johen made quick work of her dress, hoisting it over her head and trapping it just behind her neck.

  Her body, now naked, was bared to him. He palmed her breasts with a low growl, popping one stiff nipple into his mouth and sucking it hard. Just like he knew she liked it.

  It was a little alarming that he already knew her body so well, and was a master at manipulating it.

  Sofia's hands found his pants and pulled them down, just below his hard buttocks. His long, thick erection sprang free, growing impossibly more rigid between her palms.

  "You're so beautiful, Sofia," Johen said thickly, kissing her eyes, her nose, then her lips. "I'm so happy you belong to me."

  He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. Holding her buttocks, Johen pulled her down onto him, his huge penis quickly filling her aroused flesh.

  "Oh, God," Sofia moaned, her head falling back as he drove himself up into her. "Oh, yes--Johen--oh, God."

  "You feel so good," he said hoarsely, his eyes coming to life again while inside her. There was a darkness in him, a pain that only seemed to recede when he was near her. "I need you, Sofia."

  Her heart clenched. "Johen..."

  As if sensing and understanding the emotional upheaval his words caused, Johen picked up the pace of his thrusting, concentrating on making her come. He succeeded admirably, just like always. Sofia cried out his name as she came, pushing herself down on his cock as fast and furiously as she could.

  "I will always need you," Johen murmured as she rode out wave after wave of ecstasy. "Always."

  He spoke to her of her beauty, of her eyes and smile. He thrust into her depths as if trying to reach her soul.