Tie Me Up, Tie Me Down
Page 20
Nikolas suckled harder. She moaned, her lower body shaking as she prepared to come.
He sucked harder. And harder and harder and harder.
“Oh, God! Oh, yes! Ohhhhh, Goddddddd!”
She came on a loud scream, convulsing as she gave him a violent orgasm.
He growled low in his throat. She tasted so good. She tasted like…his.
“Oh, Nikolas,” Ronda murmured as her breathing began returning to normal. “Mmmm.”
He gave her flesh one last hard suck, then released it. When he lifted his face from between her thighs, he noticed that her eyes were closed, a dreamy smile on her face.
He also noticed those hard, pink nipples that he’d been dying to taste.
Settling himself intimately between her legs, Nikolas palmed both breasts in his warrior-calloused hands. He pushed her large breasts together as closely as they would go, then dined.
He flicked at and sucked on her stiff nipples one at a time, going from one to the other and back again. Ronda whimpered, lifting her bottom up so that her female flesh pressed against his hard stomach. She wanted him inside her, but he took his time, sucking on those nipples the way he’d often fantasized doing while stroking his big cock and pretending she wanted him as much as he wanted her.
“Nikolas,” she groaned in a pleading voice, her body writhing under his, “please fuck me. I’m begging you.”
He released one of her nipples with a popping sound, his head lifting from her breasts. Grabbing his thick erection by the root, he pressed the swollen tip against her opening. “Is this what you want?” he murmured, his eyelids heavy.
“Yes,” she panted.
How often he’d dreamed of watching her lie beneath him, begging to be fucked by him. Strong, feisty, gorgeous, and determined—all that he’d ever wanted, all that he’d never believed he’d have.
Now he had her. And he would never let go.
“Tell me,” he whispered, his gaze drugged with passion. He pressed the head of his cock a bit farther into her tight, gripping pussy. “Tell me how bad you want me.”
“Real bad,” she ground out. “Nikolas, please!”
Ronda felt that she’d go insane if he didn’t impale her right now. The thought of reversing their positions and taking what she wanted crossed her mind, but he outweighed her by a solid hundred pounds. This man was 250 pounds of honed muscle.
“Give it to me,” she hissed. “Pleeeeeease.”
“Admit that you are mine.” His jaw tightened. “Vow to me that you will never lie with another.”
“I swear it. I’m yours! Nikolas…I need you to—”
Ronda gasped as he entered her flesh to the hilt in one long stroke. Her eyes watered a bit at the invasion, as it had been a long time since she’d had sex. And she’d never had sex with a man as large as Nikolas.
“You feel so good,” he said hoarsely, his eyelids impossibly heavier. “I love how tight and wet my wife is.”
She loved the way he’d emphasized my. It spoke to some primitive need for protection that had been imprinted by cave ancestors, even though she could take care of herself just fine.
Nikolas began to thrust in and out of her, long, possessive strokes that made her moan. “And I love the way you feel inside me,” Ronda breathed out, her aching nipples poking up against his chest. “So thick and powerful and filling.”
He took her harder, rocking in and out of her gripping flesh while they clung to each other and groaned out their passion for the other. The intoxicating scent of their combined sweat and arousal filled the air.
“Harder,” she ground out. “Give it to me real hard.”
“Like this?” He pounded inside her deep and fast. Her breasts jiggled with every thrust. “Mmmm, you feel so good.”
“Oh, God—I want to come!”
In a lightning-quick movement, Nikolas came up to his knees and threw Ronda’s legs over his shoulders. Pressing on her clit with his thumb, he impaled her over and over and over as she moaned, writhed, and threw her hips back at him.
He rode her hard, mercilessly pumping in and out of her flesh. Ronda gasped as the tingle in her clit coiled tight.
The sound of slick skin slapping against slick skin, her sex sucking back in his cock, the pressure of his thumb at her clit—
“Oh. My. God—Nikolaaaaaaas!”
She came hard, groaning as a violent orgasm washed over her. Blood rushed to her face, heating it. Blood rushed to her nipples, elongating them. She bucked harder, wanting him to experience the same pleasure he’d just given to her.
“Ronda.” His jaw was tense, his jugular bulging. He fucked her harder, slamming in and out of her. Once, twice, three times more…
Nikolas came on a loud growl, his teeth gritting as his body convulsed. She kept pushing her hips up at him, milking him for every bit of juice he had to give. He groaned out his praise, loving every second of it. She didn’t stop until, spent, he collapsed on top of her.
They lay there, holding each other, clinging to each other, in comfortable silence. It was a long while before their breathing returned to normal.
Nikolas got up from the bed only long enough to fetch some animal hides. When he returned to the bed, Ronda snuggled up with him beneath the furs. She rested her head on his chest as his vein-roped arm came around her, holding her close to him.
“It occurs to me,” he murmured, “that we still haven’t kissed.”
She smiled from where her head lay on his chest. “So kiss me already,” she whispered.
He wasted no time in meeting her challenge. Nikolas kissed her as she’d never been kissed before.
And made her heart ache for him in a way that, on the day of her capture, she hadn’t thought would ever be possible.
Chapter Ten
Otrygg had been correct about one thing: in contrast New Norway did make New Sweden seem like a women’s rights paradise. At least in Lokitown, Ronda had been permitted to wear clothing.
“Nikolas,” Ronda gritted out, “please don’t tell me these people actually expect me to take off my dress while we have dinner with them.”
He sighed. “Did I not try to warn you before we departed?”
Yes, he had. And she had refused to listen to his arguments pertaining to why she should remain behind. Arrrrg!
“ ’Twill be but two hours at most,” he said to comfort her. For whatever comfort that offered! “Only whilst the warriors unload the oils and load the bartered weapons.”
She sighed, then pinched the bridge of her nose. “Are you sure they won’t let me keep on my clothes?” she asked hopefully. “Maybe since I don’t live here, they won’t expect me to abide by their—”
“We expect them to obey our laws when in New Sweden.”
Ronda frowned, but conceded the point. “Okay.” Damn it! There didn’t seem to be a graceful way out of this. If she refused to remove her clothing, she was a lawbreaker. If she remained on the boat, she’d not only be in the warriors’ way, but would also be considered terminally rude. “Only for two hours?” she miserably retorted, sounding every inch the martyr she felt to be.
He nodded. “We will be on our way back to Lokitown before you know it.”
It was the longest two hours of Ronda’s thirty-three-year-old life. Not only were the females of New Norway’s Hallfreor clan forbade clothing, but they were regarded as little more than slaves by these war-hungry men.
Nikolas had told her that the custom of the marriage auction block had come to New Sweden via the New Danes. But it was from New Norway that Toki had copied the selling of naked women who could be poked at by any lust-hungry warrior with bartering rights. If Lord Ericsson successfully overthrew Toki’s regime, he planned to revert to the old way. Ronda had no idea what the “old way” consisted of, but just about anything would be better than the status quo.
As guests of the Hallfreor’s ruling noble, they ate within his large, lavish dwelling at the docks. Ronda was the only female permitted at the tabl
e. The others, all as naked as she was, were either serving food or attending to their master.
This particular noble clearly enjoyed having several nude, subservient women around him at all times, their attentions devoted exclusively to him. They sat at his feet gazing worshipfully up at him, not so much as blinking unless he motioned for them to do this or that. Occasionally he would reach down and stroke one of them or play with another one’s nipples. It brought to mind a man petting his cats.
Do I throw up now or later?
As Ronda recalled Jonna’s words, she wondered how the beautiful woman was settling into life in New Sweden. When they returned to Lokitown, she would ask to see her.
The noble’s eyes kept flicking to Ronda’s naked breasts, the only part of her he could see while seated at the table. Her only consolation was that Nikolas clearly didn’t care for it, either. He had a possessive arm clamped around Ronda, letting everyone in the dining chamber know just whom she belonged to.
Aboveground, she hadn’t liked possessiveness in a man. Below the ground, it was not only welcome, but seemed to be a necessity to keep from being manhandled or worse.
“I would be willing to barter extra weapons,” the lord of the Hallfreor clan announced, his gaze darting from Ronda’s nipples to Nikolas’s face, “if you would be willing to part with some of your balls of light.”
“Balls of light?” Nikolas asked, an eyebrow arching.
“Aye. Those concoctions you have that contain fire in a ball.”
Lightbulbs, Ronda thought. Apparently the New Swedes hadn’t shared Milo’s invention with the two other Underground kingdoms. That explained why they were eating by torchlight—not that she was complaining: it made it more difficult for the oversexed noble to discern her nude body.
“I believe we have a few cartons aboard ship. I can leave two of those cartons behind…for the right price.”
“And that price would be?”
“Ten more guns and fifteen more swords.”
Lord Hallfreor hesitated only briefly before inclining his head. “ ’Tis done.”
The remainder of the meal passed by mercifully fast. Now that Lord Pervert was concentrating on bartering with Nikolas, Ronda felt more relaxed. In fact she ended up rather enjoying the meal, for the great food.
Before she knew it, it was time to reboard the longboat and sail back to Lokitown. Ronda thanked the noble for his hospitality as she stood up, and the man’s gaze lowered to her bald mons.
“And I thank you too,” Nikolas growled, flying to his feet. His blue gaze was as icy as when Ronda had first seen it. “We shall depart for New Sweden anon.”
“Come now, old friend. Why not stay the moon-rising?” A glimmer of amusement, and recognition of Nikolas’s jealousy, sparked in the noble’s eyes.
A tic formed in Lord Ericsson’s jaw. “Nay. We prefer to return home.”
As soon as they boarded the longboat, Ronda made a beeline for the bedchamber to retrieve her tunic-dress. One thing was certain: she’d never be asking her husband to take her on a vacation to New Norway. Nooooo thank you! Clothing was her friend, a new mantra.
Bent over the bed as she searched for the garment, she was so busy throwing animal hides this way and that, that she didn’t hear Nikolas enter the bedchamber.
Two strong, calloused hands seized her hips from behind, making her gasp in momentary fright. His long, thick cock slid into her gripping flesh all the way, turning her gasp into a moan. “Nikolas,” she breathed out, glancing over her shoulder.
His territorial stare looked more animal than human, his muscles tense and ready to take her. He was still fully dressed, his brais down just enough to let his erect cock and tight balls spring free.
“You’re mine,” he ground out, deeply impaling her again. “All mine.”
“Yes,” Ronda panted, falling onto the bed and lifting her buttocks high in the air. “I am.”
Palming both round cheeks in his hands, Nikolas wasted no time in branding her body as his possession. He rode her without mercy, sinking into her aroused flesh again and again. Ronda’s large breasts jiggled beneath her with each of his thrusts, her nipples getting stiff and aroused.
“Harder,” she gasped. “More.”
“Do you like my cock buried inside you?” His voice was forceful and laced with more than a little jealousy. His thrusts came harder, faster, deeper. “Do you?”
“Yes,” Ronda groaned, pushing her hips back at him, meeting him thrust for thrust. “I love your cock.”
He went primal on her then, plunging in and out of her so hard, deep, and fast that all she could do was scream and come—twice. Nikolas’s body tensed up after her second orgasm, his breathing labored, his moans telling her without words that he was ready to burst.
He came inside her on a loud roar, pumping frenetically as he emptied his seed inside her tight flesh. She threw her hips back at him—faster! faster! faster!—loving the sound of his animalistic groan while she milked his cock of its sperm.
By the time they finished, Ronda was so exhausted that it was all she could do to crawl to the middle of the bed, where, panting as if she’d just run a marathon, she collapsed. Nikolas chuckled, then fell to the bed beside her, his breathing just as heavy.
Within moments they were under the animal hides again, snuggling as they had before. Nikolas stroked her hair as she laid her head on his chest.
“I don’t know what hand fate will deal me when we return to Lokitown and I declare war on the jarl.” Nikolas squeezed her tightly. “Just know that I will die to protect you, and that even should I go to the gods in Valhalla, you will dwell in my heart forever.”
Tears stung Ronda’s eyes. “I won’t let you die,” she vowed. “Never.”
His smile was soft, gentle—an expression at total odds with the rough, rugged warlord wearing it. “I believe you.” He was quiet for a moment, then: “Should I live to defeat Toki…”
“Yes?”
“Do you think that…mayhap…” His gaze searched hers. “Do you think that mayhap one day you might grow to love me?”
Ronda’s lips curved into a smile. “I think we’re already heading that way fast, Nikolas Ericsson,” she whispered. “Very fast.”
“As do I.” His lips found hers. “As do I,” he murmured against them.
Epilogue
Twenty years later
It hadn’t taken Ronda Ericsson long at all to fall in love with her husband. Indeed, she sometimes wondered if she hadn’t loved him from the moment he’d saved her at the auction. He had proven then what he’d proved time and time again over the years—Nikolas’s heart was true, his love loyal, and his protection a given. Ronda had learned a lot about what love really meant over the past two decades.
Not that she hadn’t taught her warlord husband plenty herself. She’d instructed him in the art of karate and, more important, in the understanding that he was worthy of being loved. He had been a king for almost as long as they’d been married, but her feelings for him would have been the same if he weren’t.
New Sweden was a different place under Nikolas’s rule. The warriors still held steadfastly to the old ways, but women had gained more freedoms and rights. At times it had been teeth-grittingly slow going, but it had happened and continued to evolve. Nikolas was a just, fair ruler. He held his people together with a reasonable but firm fist.
Ronda had been, uncharacteristically for women down here, vocal in her opinions. She and Nikolas had taken some flack for it over the years, but her popularity amongst the people, especially the matriarchs, was too powerful for a few naysayers to destroy.
Nikolas had turned out to be everything Ronda could ever have wanted in a man and then some: an excellent father who placed as much value on their daughter as he did on their three sons, a wise leader of their people, a thoughtful, loving husband, a fierce warlord, and in a few short weeks when their daughter, Cora, gave birth, she knew he’d be the world’s most devoted grandfather, as well.
Ronda could only sigh and shake her head at such alarmist, head-to-the-hills reasoning, but these beliefs were the very foundation of the Underworld culture. She supposed if this belief system ceased to exist, the clans of New Sweden, New Norway, and New Daneland would also cease to thrive.
“Good morn, my loves.” Nikolas bent down and kissed Ronda and then their daughter, who were sitting in the solarium. It was the brightest of all the chambers in the Ericsson dwelling, having the most peepholes leading up to the world that lay above. The sun’s light shone through strongly in here.
Ronda smiled. “Good morning? It’s almost time for dinner. At last, he arises!”
God, he was handsome, she thought, a twinkle of contentment in her eyes. The years had only made him look impossibly better to her. He was as muscled, powerful, and strong as ever. A few laugh lines around the eyes and his salt-and-pepper hair were the only hints he’d aged at all.
“I thought the elders of the council would never cease their prattling last eve. What have you two been doing?”
“Going over plans for the soon-to-be baby’s bedchamber,” Cora excitedly informed him. “But somehow we got on the subject of how you and mother met.” Cora grinned, her father’s dimple denting one cheek. “Tell me, did she really knee you in the—”
“Aye,” Nikolas cut in, frowning. “I walked funny for days.”
As the three of them shared a good laugh over that, Ronda winked at her husband. No matter the gruff voice, she knew he loved that memory. She had been the only person who’d been able to physically thwart him, if even for just a couple of minutes.