Ravished by a Viking

by Delilah Devlin

  Perhaps she could negotiate. “Here, in this room,” she whispered. “Yes.”

  He shook his head. “Not nearly good enough, thrall. If I want sex somewhere else, will you obey me?”

  “Dagr ...” She groaned again.

  His mouth drew closer, skirted her lips, and sucked on an earlobe.

  She tilted her head, enjoying the sensations of his hot breath gusting against her ear, stirring her hair, the glide of his tongue as he followed the rim of her ear. Then he bit her lobe, causing her to jerk, and pulled away.

  His gaze held hers, boring into her, frightening her just a little. “If you want sex ... with me ... you must obey.”

  Blood pounding through her veins, Honora swallowed hard. “I will be yours,” she said, her voice deepening with tension. “Wherever you want.”

  “Whenever.”

  She screwed up her face, knowing he’d expect her to keep her promise—no matter what. Could she trust that he wouldn’t push her past comfortable limits?

  His steady gaze said he knew exactly what flitted through her mind. She drew in a deep breath, understanding that her answer was important, that their relationship, however long it would last, might set off in another direction. What did she ultimately want?

  She trembled against him, imagining what surrender would be like. What being owned body and soul by a man like Dagr would mean. Again, her choice came down to trust.

  And he hadn’t earned it. He’d threatened to behead her the first time they’d met. Had threatened her crew. And yet, even when he’d had the chance, had her alone and at his mercy, he’d seen to her pleasure before his own.

  His fingers rubbed her ears; nails scraped her scalp. “It is not such a complicated question.”

  But it was. And she knew she should take more time, but he wanted an answer, and she needed to give him one. Did he expect her to keep her promise? Really?

  He wasn’t asking for her to swear fealty to him. Wasn’t asking her to support his cause. Only to surrender to him as a man.

  Heat rolled off his skin, warming her, arousing her. Her pussy melted and throbbed. Already her body was conditioned to do his bidding. What did it matter if she gave him the words?

  He nuzzled behind her ear, slicked his tongue along the curve, and sucked her earlobe into his mouth again.

  She tilted her head, quivering as he teased her. “Dagr ...” she said breathlessly.

  “Be my slave, my thrall,” he whispered. “Give me yourself, without reservation, without thinking.”

  Her nipples contracted, growing painfully hard. “I’m afraid.”

  “Does that excite you?”

  She shuddered. “Yes ...”

  “Be mine ...”

  She turned her head and glided her mouth along his cheek. “Yes ... yes ...”

  Dagr pulled away, leaving Honora blinking, her legs sprawled open, her chest and face hot and rosy with arousal.

  “Please ...” she said, her eyes filling, frustration tightening her face.

  “Come with me,” he said, holding out his hand.

  She slid off the bed and looked around for her clothing.

  “Leave them,” he said, curling his fingers to beckon her.

  “But we can’t parade naked through the ship. Someone will see ... and it’s chilly.”

  “None of your crew will see you, and you won’t be cold for long.”

  Her heart thudded dully in her chest, understanding this was her first test. “What about your men?”

  “They will think nothing of your nudity. You will walk behind me and they will know you are enthralled.”

  Her eyebrows lowered as she reconsidered her promise.

  “Do you defy me already?”

  “I thought you’d have a little more care for me than to humiliate me.”

  “There is no embarrassment. My men, should we pass any of them, will admire you, but it is not my purpose to display your capitulation. I only seek more comfortable quarters. There is a larger bed in the spa room.”

  He’d scouted out the gym? The one truly warm place on the ship. And the one made for physical recreation—of all sorts. “The spa’s on the first level at the other end of the ship ...”

  “Your point?”

  She took a deep breath. “We’ll be crawling down ladders and through hatches to get there.”

  He curled his fingers again.

  A breathless laugh escaped her. “We can hurry, right? You won’t make me walk purposely slow.”

  He grinned, grabbing her hand, and opened her cabin door. The corridor outside was deserted, but he darted out, pulling her behind him.

  “You’ve only been on board a day and already you have me completely throwing away all discipline,” she grumbled.

  He laughed, and she smiled, bemused at the husky sound. Then he turned away and she had her first glimpse of his back. She sucked in a deep breath. Besides the muscles that bulged away from his spine and widened his upper back and shoulders, a large tattoo of a wolf, teeth bared and leaping upward, stretched from between his shoulders, down his back, the tail wrapping around his waist. The detail was amazing, every hair and muscle defined in black and shades of gray. A wolf to define the leader of the Wolfskins. Honora sucked in another breath and sped behind him down the corridor.

  At the end of the hallway, Dagr looked back and gave her a wink, then climbed down the ladder to the lower level, waiting at the bottom with his hands holding the rings surrounding the ladder while she hesitated at the top. Beyond all good sense, he felt happy and free. Her disgruntlement amused him.

  “I can’t do this,” she hissed.

  “You do this every day,” he chided.

  “I’m not talking about the ladder.”

  He grinned up and gave her waggle of his eyebrows. “Would you deny me now? Before we’ve sought our pleasure?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t suppose you’d look away.”

  He didn’t move, didn’t change his expression, just waited for her to concede, knowing she would.

  She descended quickly, and he watched her bottom quiver, her sex, still wet, glisten between her legs.

  Her arousal fed his own and his cock rose painfully high, bobbing against his belly as they strode toward the open bay and the small gymnasium tucked at the far corner.

  His cousin Grimvarr sat throwing runes in a game of chance with another man, as they guarded the containers. His head turned toward them, his eyes widened, and he climbed quickly to his feet. Both men straightened, their lips twitching as they scanned Dagr’s body, then Honora’s. He heard her groan behind him, and he winked at his men.

  The gym was empty, but he hurried through it, to the room at the back where a low-lying bed that was only slightly thicker than a mat sat in the center of the floor.

  “It’s meant for massage,” she said, coming up behind him.

  He eyed a curved bench with two padded steps that stood at the end of the bed, then returned his gaze to Honora with an arch of his eyebrow.

  She had the grace to blush, knowing well that her descriptions were only half correct. She cleared her throat. “It’s to hold your clothing.”

  Only they both knew it was just the right height, just the right angle, for sexier forms of recreation.

  “Your crew uses this room for sex, yes?”

  “As you observed. There’s more room here. They book it in advance.”

  “There aren’t many women aboard,” he said, his skin crawling at the implications.

  “Most Helios aren’t strictly heterosexual.”

  Dagr grunted. Most Vikings wouldn’t be so quick to admit their homosexuality or act on it so publicly. “The mattress, it will be comfortable enough for you on your knees?”

  She hesitated, one thigh turning toward the other. “Shouldn’t we lock the door first? Or at least turn the window to frost.”

  The windows that opened to the cargo bay were clear, and Grimvarr and his friend still watched. “You can change the g
lass? Why are the windows ever clear?”

  “Sometimes,” she said, color flaring on her cheeks, “lovers like to be watched.”

  “Have you availed yourself of this room before?”

  She nodded, her cheeks blazing hotter, but her jaw firmed.

  “And have you wanted to be watched?”

  She shook her head. “Never, and Baraq and I kept the door locked.”

  Dagr walked to the far wall and the open cupboard that held stacks of thin linen towels. He pulled out one thick white towel and began ripping it into long strips, keeping her in the corner of his eye, knowing that what he had to say would be easier for her to take if he wasn’t looking directly at her.

  “In my keep, I am lord. While I have concubines to see to my comfort, I am not exclusively theirs. I have availed myself from time to time of my right to mate whomever I wish. Wives, concubines, I may join my men to take my pleasure with their women. I have the right, and sometimes I exercise it.”

  He finished tearing the last strip and turned his gaze to Honora, whose eyes had widened. He held the strips gripped inside his fists. “In my culture, virility is prized. Necessary to our survival. I like to be watched. My people find comfort in knowing I am strong and robust in everything I do. There is no shame, no embarrassment.” He paused, waiting for her expression to change as realization hit her. When it did, he nearly groaned.

  Her body quivered head to foot, nipples shivering and ruched. Her eyes were wide, dark, and glistening in her pale face.

  His cock pulsed against his belly, swelling painfully, so full and hard the skin felt ready to burst. “You know what I want,” he said, his voice suddenly hoarse.

  “You want the men in the hold to watch us?” she said, sounding hopeful.

  “I want them to join us, Honora. They will serve us both.”

  She groaned and shook her head. A look of dismay and, for the first time, a hint of true fear slid across her face.

  Dagr’s heart softened. Yes, she might be a leader among her own people, but she was woefully unprepared for life outside her ship’s thin shell. “Come to me.” He stood perfectly still, waiting for her to decide whether she could accept his rule.

  Honora looked away, drew deep, ragged breaths between pursed lips to pull strength around her. He knew when she steadied, because her gaze lifted to his and she slowly strode toward him.

  When she stood directly in front of him, completely naked in her body and desire, she whispered, “What do you want me to do?”

  Dagr leaned down. She tilted back her head. They kissed, only their lips touching for a moment. “I won’t ask for more than you can give,” he said quietly.

  With doubt still shadowing her eyes, she nodded.

  “Turn around and put your hands behind you.”

  Honora glanced down at the strips of fabric he held. “You’re going to bind me?” She hadn’t thought it possible for her heart to pound faster or harder than it did now and not explode from her chest.

  “Do you object?”

  She shook her head, feeling a little dazed, and turned, clutching her hands together at the small of her back while he tied them. When he finished she tugged, testing the knots. The binding wasn’t too tight, but she’d have to pull at them a while to work herself free.

  “Are you all right so far?” he said softly, his hands smoothing over her shoulders and down her arms.

  He stood so close she felt the heat radiating from his skin. Her nipples tingled and lengthened, beading painfully hard. “What’s next?”

  His hands rose in front of her face, holding another strip of cloth.

  She sucked in a deep breath. “I don’t know if I’ll like this,” she said, wanting to duck beneath his hands and run, but also intensely curious about what he planned. “I don’t know if I’ll like not being able to see what you do ... where your men are.”

  “You have to trust I will see to your pleasure and your comfort. Do you trust me, Honora?”

  “No!” She laughed once. “You’ve stolen my ship. You hold my crew hostage for my good behavior. How do you expect trust to exist?”

  His hands glided around her chest, cupped her breasts, and massaged them gently. “Do you trust me with your body, Honora? With your pleasure?”

  Her body rocked, following the gentle roll of his caresses. “I shouldn’t.”

  He kissed her temple, then tied the cloth around her eyes. When he stepped away, she felt abandoned. And immediately her heart quickened, partly from fear because she really shouldn’t trust him, and partly because she didn’t know what would come next and how he meant to employ his men in bringing her pleasure. She wasn’t a prude, had participated in a threesome a couple of times at the academy, but she’d led a pretty circumspect life ever since.

  Masculine voices and heavy footsteps entered the room. Once past the door, the men grew quiet, and she guessed that Dagr warned them into silence.

  Clothing rustled. Weapons clanked and thudded as they were placed on cabinets.

  And then true silence descended. Honora’s pulse pounded against her temples as she waited in an agony of anticipation.

  Heat approached her chest, the only warning she got before two mouths latched around her nipples and suckled. Honora’s mouth dropped open while her sex clenched and her back arched to push her breasts deeper into their mouths.

  Another man stepped behind her and rubbed her ass. Easy, nonthreatening, and not very sexual caresses. They soothed while the mouths sucking at her nipples clamped harder and nibbled the small, tortured buds.

  She wondered which of them suckled and which stood behind her. From her quick glance when she and Dagr had passed them in the hold, she knew one of the men was his younger cousin, who had reddish brown hair and a beard that skirted his mouth and chin in a thin, sexy line. The other was like most of the Vikings—large, with a bushy blond beard and braided hair. The tickling abrasion from the bushy beard told her which man suckled her left breast, but she still was uncertain about the identity of the one laving her right. Her thighs and buttocks clenched; liquid spilled from inside her and dribbled down her inner thighs.

  She imagined how she must look, her slight frame dwarfed by three large Vikings, and she grew so excited she gulped for air.

  “Breathe or you’ll faint,” Dagr whispered into her ear.

  So he was behind her, the one fondling her ass. Which meant the two towering giants from the hold were kneeling in front of her. Were they completely nude? Would she know the extent of their attributes or was Dagr only teasing her now?

  And then warm hands grasped her shoulders and turned her. Something scraped slowly across the floor and she knew it was the bench. Gooseflesh prickled on her skin. The scraping stopped just in front of her and she was pushed down. Her knees met the upper padded step; her belly lowered to the smooth upholstery.

  She was leaned the wrong way, she wanted to say, her head lower than her ass, but she guessed immediately that Dagr wanted her kept off balance, unable to help herself.

  Large hands lifted and placed her knees farther apart, opening her sex, parting her ass. She almost blurted there were bindings for her ankles, but what would that reveal?

  One palm caressed one cheek, then withdrew. Then a slap landed in the exact spot.

  Honora gasped and tensed, wanting to complain, but the warm hand smoothed again, soothing the sharp ache while fingers trailed the length of her pussy.

  Something cool and thick slithered over her hip. She couldn’t help the shiver that racked her, couldn’t help the little moan as it tapped her bottom, and she knew it was a leather belt. It lifted from her flesh, then stung her, the sound loud in the silence.

  The belt landed again and again but she bit her lip to hold back her cries. She didn’t want Dagr to stop, to think her weak or to know how excited she was becoming. Although how could he miss the fact that she loved it when her bottom rose to seek the next lash?

  The stings were painful, but lit a fire beneath her s
kin that rippled up her spine and through her channel. Again liquid trickled between her legs, wetting her thighs.

  A hand found it, rubbed it over her skin. A tongue followed the hand, lapping up the trail to her pussy but halting before touching her swollen folds. Then it swept away again.

  She was left there, shivering on the bench, her pussy pulsing, making soft, succulent sounds as it clasped air.

  When lips trailed down her back, she arched, trying to press closer, but her thighs quivered too hard, robbing her of the strength to move.

  Fingers dug into her scalp, pulling up her head and forcing her mouth open. A musky scent—not Dagr’s—assailed her nostrils. Then the blunt, round head of a cock pressed against her lips. She opened eagerly, swallowing the crown and swabbing it with her tongue, but it pulled away and she groaned.

  Whose cock was it anyway? Had Dagr really let one of his men use her mouth?

  Hands cupped her ass and rubbed oil over the sensitive globes. Her cheeks were parted and more oil drizzled over the crease separating them, and she vibrated on the bench.

  “No, no, no ...” She moaned, knowing what was coming.

  The cock pressed against her mouth again, and she opened obediently, sucking on the crown and nibbling the cushiony head gently, using her tongue to stroke the underside while she began to suction rhythmically, bobbing forward the little she could to consume more of the man’s length.

  Fingers swirled on her ass, stirring, stirring, making her bottom rise and fall to follow the pleasurable, teasing touches. Then the end of a thick finger pressed against her opening and she froze, moaning around the thick cock filling her mouth.

  Fuck, were they all made this way? And fuck, fuck, fuck ... the finger pushed into her ass.

  She stiffened on the bench, her mouth tightening on the cock. “Easy, darkling,” the man whose cock she sucked crooned, petting her hair and rubbing her cheeks. “Relax. Don’t bite.”

  She grumbled around his cock, but eased her jaw, trying to ignore the digit thrusting deeper into her behind. The cock in her mouth crowded deeper, pushing over her tongue, tapping the back of her throat and withdrawing. “Swallow, Lady Captain. Give me a deep kiss,” he whispered.