Replay Set 1: Viking Raid, Triple Play, Honour Bound

by Nia Farrell

  He poured lube in his hands, warming it, coating the latex. Fisting himself, he knelt beside her on the bed, running his hand over the tender flesh of her bottom, still red from his discipline. He let go of his erection and reached for the lube, parting her cheeks with one hand and dribbling it straight from the bottle. She shivered at the feel of the oil, cool and shocking against the heat of her skin.

  He set the bottle back on the nightstand and returned, settling his weight between her legs. She inhaled sharply, exhaled slowly when she felt a blunt pressure on the rosette of her ass. Rimming her with the head of his cock, he breached the bud, then surged inside. He withdrew and forged ahead, pushing deeper, harder, again, and again, until he was seated to the root. Holding himself tight against her with his hips pressed against her sore bottom, he went still, waiting until pleasure bloomed from the pain.

  She was tender from his discipline, and he was a very large man. Either way, she expected it to hurt. He held himself inside her, shuddering with restraint, until something snapped and he unleashed himself on her, clutching her hips and jackhammering into her, thrusting in hard and fast and deep, taking her ass with ruthless intent, claiming it like he had her mouth and her pussy. She was already wet with fresh cream and spent seed and he was making her wetter yet. He slammed into her, his pace brutal. She was ready to cry jonquil when he reached underneath her and found her clit.

  “Now,” he ordered. A second later, she shattered beneath him and he was right there with her, his cum jetting out, filling the condom as he poured himself inside her. After long moments, he unfastened her bonds and lay down beside her, drawing her into the circle of his arms, her head pressed against his chest.

  “How are ye, lass?” His voice rolled over her, and she snuggled closer against him.

  “Fine, Sir.”

  He tipped up her chin and kissed her, tracing the seam of her lips with his tongue. She sucked in the tip and moaned against his mouth.

  “We need a bath,” he said gruffly. “Then sleep. Then more sex, in that order.”

  “Yes, Sir. Bath, sleep, sex.”

  Sounded like a plan to her.

  Chapter Eight

  She stayed the night. Most of it was spent in Micheil’s arms, with snatches of sleep stolen between talking, making love, and talking some more. He wanted to know how she came to have a triple persona—blonde haired musician Rowena Campbell, red haired erotic blogger Regina Wright, and brown haired children’s author Ginger Owens.

  “We chose ‘Wright’ for our stage name because of the play on words. When I’m red haired, I’m always Wright, and as Regina, I’m always queen.” She slanted a glance and was glad to see he got her sense of humor. Not everyone did.

  “Breanna and I wanted names we liked, suited for twins, something that connected us even when we didn’t look alike. Voilà! Sabrina and Regina were born. As for Ginger, I’d been writing and drawing for a while, toying with some ideas for children’s fantasy books, but when the abuse came out in therapy, I was in the garden and remembered going to Chincoteague as a kid and the brave little pony literally dropped in my head. The story poured out. The illustrations are what took the time, laying out the pages, deciding what images best depicted the lines on each page. I wanted to get it out quickly, not with the intent of getting rich, just hoping the right kids would find it, and learn from it. Ginger Owens is my balance, a blend of Regina who’s not afraid to say anything and Rowena who was forbidden to speak. I’m glad you came looking for her, Sir.”

  “And I’m glad tae hae found ye. All three of ye. Although I’m looking forward tae yer staying blonde taenight. Meanwhile, I hae business tae conduct that willnae wait. After breakfast, I’ll take ye home, but Geoffrey will pick ye up at six and I shall meet ye in wardrobe. Be ready for an evening in Wonderland, lassie.”

  Geoffrey picked up Marcus first, then Elly, then Rowena. Extra staff members were on hand to transform them into Lewis Carroll’s beloved characters. Marcus emerged as the Knave of Hearts, Elly Benoit and Sir Piers were the White Queen and King, Samael was the Cheshire Cat, Xander MacDonald was the White Knight, Micheil was the Mad Hatter, and Rowena was Alice. There were a few other characters, but not nearly the number that Rowena expected. She guessed that the fantasy scene might have seemed too tame for Xander’s friends, who’d probably gone to the RACK side of the resort.

  In the hallway, Micheil pulled her into his arms and kissed her soundly, earning raised eyebrows from Elly. On the limo ride that they’d shared with Marcus, she hadn’t felt comfortable talking to Elly about Micheil. “Later,” she mouthed, turning her attention back to her Scottish Dom.

  She could tell from his smile that he was up to something. “Exception tae the rule,” he whispered. “We’re going off site taenight.”

  The light of the full moon let her recognize the road that went to Marcus Vos’s and Gunnar Falk’s seaside properties. Breanna had used Marcus’s private beach, until she moved in with Gunnar. Half a mile past Gunnar’s drive, they turned onto a lane road marked “Wonderland.” At the end of the drive, a large, heated tent had been erected, and a theme park-worthy Wonderland created inside. Micheil led Rowena to the long table in the center, set for a tea party and ringed by two dozen chairs.

  A little ginger-haired girl, costumed as a dormouse, sat in one of them, across from a young woman sporting rabbit ears whose family resemblance was so strong, she had to be related to Micheil and Xander.

  “Rowena, may I introduce our sister Jannet and my daughter Alexis. Ladies, this is Rowena Campbell. Alexis, if ye look verra close and imagine her in brown hair, ye’ll see that she’s also Ginger Owens, who wrote The Brave Little Pony.”

  Alexis was star struck, more by meeting Ginger Owens than having a cast of Wonderland characters dancing in attendance. Micheil, as the Mad Hatter, headed the table and Rowena sat beside Alexis. They enjoyed trays of finger food—sandwiches, fruits and vegetables, little cakes, crumpets, and scones. Rowena told Alexis about how she’d loved horses when she was younger, and one of her favorite memories was her father taking her and her twin sister to Chincoteague and Assateague Islands to see the wild ponies.

  At one point, a four-piece chamber orchestra set up. When the first tune started, Micheil led his daughter onto the floor, had her stand on his feet, and waltzed with her. Jannet took the opportunity to round the table and sit by Rowena.

  “Sorry I hae been quiet. Alexis doesnae ken, I’m a fan, too,” she said, blushing. “I discovered yer blog when I wanted tae learn more about my brothers’ lifestyles.”

  Rowena smiled. “I hope you found it helpful.”

  “Enough tae want tae explore it myself, when the time comes. Alexis keeps me busy. She learned tae walk again a year ago today. When she was in pain or had one of her dark days, Micheil was there, encouraging her, promising her whatever she wanted if she wouldnae quit. She didn’t want tae squander her wish. She thought verra hard on it. When she couldnae decide between visiting Wonderland and meeting Ginger Owens, he said he would gie her both. And so he did.”

  Rowena watched the MacDonalds—father and daughter—as they glided across the floor. “She’s a lucky little girl,” she said.

  “And he’s a lucky mon,” said Jannet. “Ye ken, some people never find love once, let alone twice.”

  Rowena couldn’t deny it. Jannet had seen what she was realizing, that she was falling in love with Micheil MacDonald.

  At the end of the dance, Micheil and Alexis returned to the table. “It’s past bedtime, lassie. Auntie Jannet will take ye back now. Sleep tight, and I’ll see ye in the morning, sweetheart.”

  He touched his sister’s shoulder. “Thanks for everything. We’ll get breakfast on the way tae the airport. I’ll pick ye up at nine.”

  Rowena felt panic squeeze her heart and looked away, hoping to find Elly. She was dancing with Marcus, while Sir Piers watched, pensive—until White Knight Xander cut in and the Dom went on high alert.

  Micheil’s hand stilled
her fingers, sparing the napkin she’d been unconsciously wringing. “Relax, lass,” he whispered. “The night is young, I owe ye two more sets, and we’ve things tae discuss. My suite or yer house. Choose.”

  She resisted the urge to run her fingers up his arm and straighten his boutonniere. “If it’s all the same to you, Sir, take me home.”

  He helped her into the back of the limo and settled in beside her for the ride home, draping an arm around her shoulders and reaching beneath her dress to trace erotic patterns on her knees and thighs. “Third set,” he murmured, the huskiness of his voice melting any resistance she might have had. “Lying on the car seat across my lap. With my belt. Count of ten, hard and fast. If I need tae slow down, what do ye say?”

  “Jonquil,” she whispered, her breath hitching in her chest when his hand dipped between her legs and he learned that she wasn’t wearing any panties.

  “If it’s too much?”

  “Crimson,” she breathed, holding still while he unbuckled his belt and removed it. He looped it around the back of her neck and drew her up for a kiss, nipping her bottom lip and sucking on it.

  “Lie down,” he murmured against her mouth.

  She stretched out across his lap, with her layers of skirts flipped up, exposing her behind. He rubbed her ass cheeks, then exhaled a sigh and laid on ten strokes, hard and fast. She barely had time to breathe through her gasps and her whimpers and her tears. He dropped the belt and shoved a finger, then two, then three into her pussy. Her body gushed onto his hand and he shifted under her, fishing in his pocket. Unfastening his pants, he freed himself and rolled on a condom.

  “Ride me,” he ordered. He pulled her onto his lap with her back against his chest. She pushed herself up, aligned his glans with her opening, and impaled herself on his cock.

  “Ye’re soppin’ wet,” he moaned, pistoning into her. “Thank God for fanny batter. Hold on.”

  He drew completely out of her, changed the angle, and aimed for her other opening, rimming her anus, then squeezing inside—a move made possible by the secretions that slicked his length. He grasped her hips and pulled her down, until he was seated to the root.

  Micheil hissed at the sensation and bit the back of her neck.

  “Suck your thumb,” he ordered, growling in her ear when she obeyed him. He flexed his hips and pushed into her at the same time he shoved three fingers into her vagina. He fucked her with his hand, fucked her with his cock, while she remembered what it was like to have him in her mouth and pretended to taste him on her thumb. She moaned around it, until the familiar tension took hold and her toes curled and her body stiffened. “Come,” he ordered, and she did, grinding against him as the waves crashed and her pussy tightened, gripping his fingers and milking them while his cock twitched and jerked in her ass, filling the condom until he was spent.

  He cleaned them up as well as he could, but the first thing they did at her house was shower. One of her presents to herself when she’d sold A Naughty Girl’s Guide for New Submissives was an on-demand water heater that allowed them to linger longer. When they dried off, they slipped into pajamas. In the overnight bag he’d packed (just in case) were sensible plaid flannel bottoms that rode low on his hips, paired with a bright blue top that matched his eyes. She wore pretty much the same thing, only her pants were patterned with stars and planets and the matching top had a child fishing from a crescent moon.

  He wanted to talk, and she wore a reminder that he was talking to her, not Regina Wright.

  She fixed two cups of peppermint hot chocolate and joined him on her sofa, sitting gingerly on her tender bottom. “A man of your word,” she told him. “Hard and fast.” Balancing her cup, she hiked her hip and pulled down one side of her pants. “How does it look?”

  “Beautiful. Starting tae bruise,” he noted, a thread of regret in his voice.

  She pulled up her waistband and settled back. “It’s all right, Sir.” As a disciplinarian, he was firm but fair. Kind, not cruel.

  He took a sip of the peppermint hot chocolate and smiled over the edge of his cup. “We’ll hae tae make this for Alexis. I think she’d like it.”

  We.

  Rowena swallowed hard and set her cup aside. “She’s a great kid. You’ve done a good job with her.”

  “With help,” he admitted. “After the hospital came rehab. Constant rounds of doctors’ appointments. Counseling sessions. Physical therapy. Alexis still needs childcare, and Jannet has agreed tae stay on. She’s already homeschooling her. Not quite five years old, she’s doing second grade level work—not because anyone is making her. She’s just that bright and hungry tae learn.”

  Rowena smiled. “I can’t imagine where she gets that from.”

  “What did ye think of taenight?” he asked. “What did ye think of Wonderland?”

  “It was…amazing,” she said. “Look, I know it’s not polite to talk money, but this weekend cost you a fortune. Renting the resort, then setting up off site. The inside of the tent looked like it was done by theatrical set decorators. Every detail was perfect.”

  Except for the part where he’d told his sister goodbye. Remembering, Rowena went still, bracing herself for disappointment. He was headed to the airport tomorrow morning. As much as she hated to think it, this might be their last night together, and she wanted to make it last.

  He watched the play of emotion on her face and set his cup aside, freeing his hands to frame her face. “The property we used taenight? I bought it.” At her startled gaze, he crooked a smile and smoothed back her hair. “It’s a good investment at the verra least, but I’m hoping for something more. There’s plenty of room tae build. A house. A stable with horses and a therapy pony for Alexis. Ye’d be neighbors with yer sister. Falk has a dungeon, but I’d rather hae our own, for when we need some play time.”

  She looked into his eyes, searching, knowing what he was asking, wondering if he realized what that would mean. “Are you sure?” she asked him. “I come with a lot of baggage, Micheil. I’m a work in progress, but there are still issues I’m dealing with. I don’t want to jinx this, but you need to know what you’re getting into.”

  “I’m intae ye,” he said simply, pulling her onto his lap. “All of ye, Rowena-Regina-Ginger. Now, say yes, and let me take the three of ye tae bed. I owe ye one more set. On the edge of your bed. Hips tae forehead on the mattress, while I use my teeth and tongue on every mark left by my belt. If ye’re nae too sore in the morning, ye can come when I drive Jannet and Alexis tae the airport. Nay,” he changed his mind. “Ye’re coming, lass. Ye shall wear the brown wig and present yerself as mild mannered children’s author Ginger Owens while I think of all the ways I plan tae corrupt ye.”

  And that’s exactly what they did.

  Epilogue

  What do you do with half a million dollars? Rowena still hadn’t figured it out. At least, not all of it.

  Part of it would go toward Breanna’s baby shower. Part of it had bought guitars for the next set of classes, repaired the roof on the veterans’ center, and helped two of the members get PTSD service dogs.

  Part of it had paid for what was in the envelope she slid across the library counter to Gini.

  “Happy birthday,” she told her, and left.

  She wished she could see the look on the librarian’s face when she opened it, but it would be too easy for her to refuse, and this was something that Gini really, truly needed to do. Even if Rowena had wanted to watch her open her birthday present, good for one weekend at Replay Resort, she really didn’t have the time to stay. She and Micheil were meeting with their architect to go over the house plans and finalize details. The ground he’d bought was nearly prepped for building.

  Their relationship was still strange and new. Not that she was complaining of mind blowing sex whenever and wherever they could arrange to meet. The man twirled her world, times three, every chance he got.

  In addition to being her perfect Dom, he was a wonderful father, a gifted software designer lo
oking to expand into the medical field, and now her publisher. He had acquired a small press in Connecticut just so he could get The Brave Little Pony into print, and almost everyone in the company had agreed to relocate here. He’d found musicians and arranged for Rowena to be released from her contract with Replay, freeing up three evenings a week that she could dedicate to him and Alexis, learning to be a couple and a family.

  Who would have guessed, when she’d walked alone through the fires of hell as a child, she would find her own piece of heaven?

  That thought was the opening line of her next book, a nonfictional, pseudonymous memoir that became Regina Wright’s second best seller.

  Replay Book 3:

  HONOUR BOUND

  by

  Nia Farrell

  Replay Book 3: HONOUR BOUND by Nia Farrell

  Copyright 2016 by Nia Farrell

  Edited by Anita Quick and Anne Bright

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  First Edition November 1, 2016