Bound by the Viking

by Anne Marsh

  The ice cave looked downright eerie in the glow of the headlights. The ceiling whorled above us in a smooth sweep of ice. Icicles hung down, almost touching the drifts of snow that had accumulated inside. It wasn’t the Ritz, and the temperature approximated that of a meat locker, but it was safe.

  Bera immediately hopped off the snowmobile, her knee digging into my thigh as she scrambled for space. I sure hoped she wasn’t claustrophobic.

  “I did my part. I led you to Nidhug.”

  She had. I couldn’t deny that.

  “So drop me off in town, and we’ll call it even.”

  In her dreams.

  “Not yet.” I killed the motor but left the headlights on for the moment. I’d brought a handful of portable LED lights, but it was dark as midnight below ground. Where sunlight don’t shine, I thought with a snort.

  “Not yet?” Bera’s voice did that teakettle imitation females do when they’re pissed off and about to blow.

  “You wanna alert the dragon to our presence, keep right on shrieking.” Not that I really believed the dragon could hear us, but it never hurt to be cautious. She shut up at that, but latched onto her hair with a death grip, twisting the strands around her fingers.

  Great. Just fucking great. She was nervous. What did she think I was going to do? Get her in my arms and she wouldn’t mind. I could promise her that. But I wouldn’t do anything she didn’t ask me to do. I wasn’t Erik the Asshole, but I also wasn’t her new best friend. I didn’t do the soft stuff.

  I did sex.

  In desperate need of distraction, I yanked the saddlebags off the snowmobile harder than I had to and tossed the leather onto the ground. She made another distressed-sounding squeak, which must have been prompted by the inescapable fact that we had one sleeping bag for the two of us and she was trapped in an ice cave with a Viking.

  A Viking who really, really wanted to fuck her. So sue me. She was downright gorgeous. Our mad dash across the snow plain had put pink in her cheeks, and she was rocking some kind of legging tucked into knee-high boots with fur around the tops. Seeing her in just the boots rocketed to the top of my to-do list.

  I started pulling crap out of the saddlebags. The idea had been to hunker down here for ten or twelve hours and then leave under the cover of dark. Given the chilly indoor temp, I’d figured we’d share a little body heat and maybe take this mating thing for a test drive. Looked like Bera hadn’t processed all the details of the plan.

  “We’re not really mates,” she said slowly. “In case there was any confusion on that point.”

  The only confused person here was Bera, because I knew exactly who I wanted. I tossed the sleeping bag toward her. It was big enough for two and could keep a small army from freezing. “Take your boots off and get in.”

  Naturally, she grabbed the bag and gripped it to her chest, making no move to do as I’d asked.

  “It’s not like I asked you to drop your panties,” I pointed out.

  She glared at me. “Hello. Was it really necessary to say that?”

  Necessary? No. But fun? Absolutely. I turned on the LED lights, killed the bike, and moved toward her.

  “We’ve got about ten hours to kill. You want to spend them standing around in a snow pile?”

  She had to be tired from all the riding, it was cold as fuck in this cave, and I didn’t think it was unreasonable to ask her to lose the boots before we got in bed together.

  I grabbed the sleeping bag from her, shook it out, and dropped it on the ground. Then I toed off my boots and snagged her around the waist. She promptly shrieked, setting the icicles to trembling, and tried to elbow me in balls.

  Fuck. We were going to have to talk about things, weren’t we?

  Bera

  “We’re not mates,” I repeated, because Colden still hadn’t agreed with me and I wasn’t stupid. He was thinking things.

  “Even said otherwise.” The world tilted as he scooped me up and yanked my boots off. Then he slid down into the sleeping bag, bringing me with him. The zipper rasped up, and I was face-to-face with my Viking. Sure, we were fully clothed, but there was negligible space between us, and suddenly being cold was the least of my worries. Oh. My. God. I could feel his impressive erection through all the layers we wore, and he felt good.

  Really, really good.

  “Why not?” He propped himself up on one arm, his eyes sharp as he watched my face.

  “We just met,” I protested. And I’d like to get to know you better. “And now everyone’s got us mated.”

  He looked unconcerned. “I don’t mind. Do you?”

  He was a guy. He was supposed to be commitmentphobic. The word mate was not supposed to come out of his mouth easily unless he was British and discussing a guy friend down at the pub.

  He sighed.

  “You think too much, sweetheart. We can have sex. We can discuss the future of our relationship. Hel, we can do both at the same time.”

  He sounded distinctly hopeful about that last possibility, and I snorted. God. He was actually kind of cute. Annoying, aggressive, and definitely more than a little bit of an asshole… I could probably make an entire list of “A” adjectives for Colden.

  “I’m waiting for my answer.” He rubbed his thumb over my jaw, and I about creamed my panties. How could he be both rough and tender at the same time?

  “I want to leave the pack,” I said. “Mating keeps me stuck there.”

  He hooked a leg around mine, one big hand cupping my butt and lifting me on top of him. Hello. His penis was definitely swoonworthy—and I could feel each hot, hard inch through our jeans.

  “Mating’s between us. You see an audience here?” Colden clearly had no problem with cheating. He slid his jeans-covered penis up my pussy, the friction unbearably good. My brain short-circuited as heat exploded in my belly.

  “I don’t like watchers.” I moaned. Should I kiss him? Run my hands down his chest? Get under his clothes?

  “You’ve got to trust me. You trust me with your body. I’ll keep you safe.”

  It wasn’t my body I was worried about at the moment. It was my heart.

  “You think I need to force a woman to get laid?” he continued.

  There was no good answer.

  “You think I enjoy it?” Now he sounded incredulous. Great. I’d pissed off my ride, and I was in the middle of nowhere in Greenland. In the winter. I could practically hear Darwin chortling somewhere.

  “No,” I answered, hating how small my voice sounded. So I should fix it, right? The kernel of anger burning in my belly was actually a welcome relief. Underneath his rough exterior, Colden was a good guy. He wasn’t going to admit it, but that didn’t make it any less true. “I don’t think you would get off on forcing me.”

  “Damn straight.” The expression on his face should have been scary, but somehow it reassured me instead. He wasn’t kidding when he had said we would do what I want in bed and nothing more.

  His mouth brushed my neck and moved lower. I knew the minute he saw the bite scar, because he cursed and pulled back. Lying there in his arms, I wasn’t sure how to react. When Erik the Asshole bit me, sentencing me to a lifetime as a werewolf, he hadn’t been careful. At all.

  One of my last clear pre-change memories was of the horrible pain of his teeth tearing through my skin. He had cracked my collarbone too, although that healed during my first shift. The bite mark had stayed though, a ropey, gnarly mass of white skin and jagged lines. The scar wasn’t pretty.

  I assumed Colden could overlook it. I mean, he had scars too, and I hadn’t complained. This scar was simply part of who I was now.

  “I’m not perfect,” I blurted out when he didn’t say anything. A smile tugged at his mouth, and I had no idea what that was about. My scar was lots of things, but it wasn’t funny.

  “Sweetheart, neither am I,” he said, raising my hand to his face. The funny thing was, when I looked at Colden I didn’t see the scar twisting up his left cheek. It was just part of him, part
of his past. So maybe he did understand my bite mark.

  “Do you mind?” Colden brushed his fingers over the rough scar, and I about came out of my skin.

  “The shift?” I asked, and when he grunted I figured that was all the reply I would get. But his fingers swept back and forth, exploring me like I was something special. Like he had all the time in the world to get to know me. He was never in any rush, and that went in the plus column.

  “It was a shock,” I admitted, and he gave another grunt. Perhaps it was his version of laughter. Maybe Loki fucked up the Viking’s vocal chords when he created Colden, or possibly I was just trying not to think about those first days and nights.

  I’d always been grateful that if I only got twelve or so hours as a human, they were the sunshine hours. The dark had never been my thing. Even though my pre-shift days were gone, mere shadows in my memory, I somehow knew that. I loved the sun. I loved the heat and the golden warmth of it. I’d had tan lines when Erik bit me. They were gone now, but I remembered them.

  “Let’s do something for you,” he growled, and my back hit the sleeping bag but so gently it took me a second to process what had just happened. Colden had taken me to the ground, and he’d swung himself over me.

  He’d definitely got the sexy barbarian thing down.

  “Pony ride’s over,” he growled. He grabbed me by the waist, unbuttoned my jeans, and shoved them off. My panties went with them, leaving me bare from the waist down. I was still debating whether having sex was a good idea when he twisted his fingers in my hair, fisting my ponytail, and yanked my head back for a searing kiss.

  Oh God. My Viking could kiss.

  He slammed his mouth down over mine, not holding back. I could practically hear his bear growling, ready to break through his skin. He licked and bit and sucked, his lips owning mine in a ruthlessly sensual assault. It felt so good that I opened up and moaned.

  I was nowhere near done with him when he let go of my mouth, cradling my head between his palms. “Yes?” he asked.

  I knew exactly what he wanted to know.

  If I said yes, he’d put himself inside me, and he’d fuck me hard. Except it wouldn’t be that simple, couldn’t possibly be. With each stroke, with each teasing, luscious touch, he’d push me over the edge until he and the pleasure owned me and I howled for him. Colden didn’t hold back, and he wouldn’t let me, either. Walking away from him tomorrow would just be that much harder.

  So, naturally, I opened my mouth and gave him the word we both wanted to hear.

  “Yes,” I growled, my hands grabbing at his shirt. “Get naked. Now.”

  He gave me a fierce smile and then stood up and stripped down so fast my head practically swam. In the limited lighting available in our temporary ice palace, I couldn’t see as much as I’d like. He had more interesting scars on his body to match the one on his face, and the rest of him… Oh, God, the rest of him was pure fantasy material, long legs and thick slabs of muscles everywhere I looked. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to look first or touch first. Or taste. I definitely saw tasting in our future. His penis was a thing of beauty, enormous and proud, jutting unrepentantly out from his body. My Viking definitely, definitely wanted me.

  He was clearly of the touch don’t look mindset, because he covered me, caging me with his body, and it felt so perfect that I’d have liked to freeze-frame the moment, keep it to take out and remember when life started dealing crap cards my way again. But Colden wasn’t taking things slow at all. He kissed me again, shoving my shirt up with one hand and releasing my bra.

  He palmed my breasts, rubbing and pinching the nipples, and that felt even better. Heat tore through me, lust mixing with some other emotion. God, I couldn’t believe we were finally, really doing this. His bare thigh rubbed against my pussy until he felt exactly how wet I was for him. I painted him with my juices as I rode his leg shamelessly.

  “Not gonna last long, sweetheart,” he whispered roughly, which was all the warning I got before he shoved my body up the sleeping bag and made himself at home between my legs. My thighs draped over his shoulders and he opened me up with his thumbs, taking a long, hot look at me.

  “Pretty,” he growled, and I whimpered.

  I wasn’t sure I was ready for this, not sure that I wouldn’t come apart the second he touched me, either of embarrassment or pleasure, but he was done talking. Thank God. He dropped his head, and then he ate me.

  He dragged his tongue through my soaked folds. There was nothing subtle or gentle about his mouth, and each knowing lick pushed me higher. He learned me from the inside out, and I about had a heart attack, it felt so good. When his tongue rubbed a hard circle around my clit, I hollered his name, my fingers tearing at his hair. His scalp. God, I didn’t know or care, but he only chuckled and kissed me deeper. Harder.

  I was still lost in the orgasm high when he drove into me, and he was every bit as ruthless as he’d warned me. He hammered me with deep, hard strokes, hitting my clit each time he pushed inside. I was about to get seconds in the orgasm department when something penetrated my ass, and it had to be Colden’s thumb. I shrieked because he’d surprised me yet again, but it felt so good, and he caught the sound with his mouth.

  “I’m gonna get in there next,” he promised, his face harsh and fierce above mine.

  I didn’t think I minded. I didn’t think I’d mind anything this big, beautiful, harsh man wanted. At the very least, I’d try it. And then he slammed home one last time, and I felt him coming. He groaned, finally losing that iron control of his, and I squeezed him tight, inside and out, as I followed him over the edge.

  Bera

  I think I napped after Colden screwed my brains out, because I jumped when he smacked my ass playfully.

  “We need to mount up,” he said. “Get the hel out of here.”

  Right. Because here be dragons and all that. Nidhug might not have caught us, but he’d be hunting for Eira and his blade.

  “Can you drop me in town?” I asked. He seemed like he was in a good mood. I was too, I realized. Being around Colden was enjoyable, and not just because of the sex.

  “You’re not coming back to the pack with me?” His voice sounded flat and careful, a heads-up that I’d walked out onto the edge of a conversational precipice. He’d made his words into a question, which meant he thought there was negotiating room on this one.

  “We had a deal,” I reminded him. “I lead you to the knife and the Valkyrie. You let me walk away from the pack.”

  I was pretty certain, based on Nidhug’s reaction, that we’d accomplished our goals. The dragon wouldn’t have chased us like that for nothing.

  “You really want to go?” He waved a hand toward the walls and ceiling of ice. The cave was no more hospitable than the pack. My answer was and always had been a resounding God, yes.

  “A ride into town would be nice.” A forty-mile hike over a packed snow plain with a pissed-off dragon somewhere in the vicinity wasn’t my first choice. I wasn’t entirely sure how he’d planned to get us and the snowmobile out of here, but I’d have to trust him to figure it out.

  “I’m in this for the long haul,” he said. “I’m not walking away from you.”

  And… hello. I could smell my freedom slipping away from me.

  “You shouldn’t take the mating business too seriously.” It wasn’t like we went to city hall and got ourselves a marriage license. It wasn’t like that at all. “You need to let me go.”

  Like you promised hung in the chilly air between us.

  ”I will,” he gritted out, sitting up.

  “Now.” His position let him loom over me, dominating me, and I had to do something. The only thing I could think of though was to sit up and start grabbing for my clothes. It was hardly dignified.

  “You forgot to negotiate for that, sweetheart.” He ran a hand down my bare arm. Was the gesture unconscious on his part? Something more? I had no clue.

  “I’m leaving,” I told him, pulling my arms away from hi
m.

  As Fenrir’s get, we shifted at sunset. That meant we had the daylight hours to be two-legged. In all honesty, I didn’t mind the shift. In fact, I loved being a wolf. As soon as the sun dipped beneath the horizon, my human body would reform, the fur covering my skin in a soft, sensual rush. I would come alive in a way I never did when I was fully human. The wolf sensed more, saw more, but she was also more primal. She didn’t care about things like moral codes and feminism and getting the heck out of dodge. She just wanted to run, to have sex with her mate, and to be a part of the pack.

  So it would be easy to let go of all the worries when the shift took me. Colden couldn’t stop me, couldn’t make me hold back the change. As soon the sun went down, he’d have no choice but to let me go.

  With a muttered curse, he stood up and swiped his jeans from the floor, yanking them on in one swift, hard move. It was a pity to cover up that fine ass of his, but it wasn’t like I’d volunteer to walk around naked twenty-four seven, either. Not unless and until Colden relocated the pack somewhere more tropical. Like Bora Bora or Fiji.

  Wait. I replayed that last thought. I was leaving. Just as soon as I could get to what passed for town in Greenland, I was out of there. That was the plan, and I needed to stick to it.

  Didn’t I?

  I stared at my Viking, wondering where the idea of keeping him had come from.

  Colden

  Fighting was easy. It was the soft, loving stuff that I wasn’t so good at. For Bera though, I’d learn. Fuck. I’d give everything I had to figure this out for her. She studied my face like she was looking for answers, and I hoped she’d find them.

  “You think we’ve done enough to avert Armageddon?” she asked finally. “Between the blade and the Valkyrie?”

  Truth was, I didn’t think anyone could singlehandedly stop the war that was coming. I didn’t think shit had to play out the way it had been written down in old legends either, but things were definitely changing. I didn’t have magic answers for her.

  “I’ve got your back,” I told her instead. “Whatever happens.”