Tie Me Up, Tie Me Down (Vikings Underground #2)(27)
Author: Sherrilyn Kenyon

He was quiet for a moment, then began undressing. He removed first his tunic, next his boots, and finally his brais. Ronda’s breathing grew heavy as she watched him bare that hard, honed warrior’s body to her eyes. By the time his long, thick erection sprang loose from the brais, desire had coiled tightly in her belly.

“The men of your world? What is handsome up there?”

It took her a moment to respond; she was too busy staring. “They want to look like you,” she said honestly, her gaze flicking from that huge erection to his face, “but few ever achieve it.”

His face colored a bit. On a giant warlord like Nikolas, the effect was oddly charming. “You lie,” he muttered.

Her eyes widened. Was he serious? Good grief! “I don’t lie.” Her forehead wrinkled. “What is handsome on a man down here?”

He shrugged. “Nothrum. The man whose wrist you broke.”

“Ewwww! He’s pale and skinny and looks more like a woman than a man. Where I come from, women like men to be big and strong and sexy. Like you.”

“You think me sexy?” he asked hoarsely.

Ronda wet her lips as their gazes clashed. In her world, she was considered average. Down here, she was beautiful. In his world, he was considered average. Up there, he was handsome. They were two vulnerable peas in their own little pod. “Very,” she whispered.

“Is that why you picked me? Why your eyes sought me out at the auction?”

“Yes.”

Nikolas grinned. God, he had a great grin. “I can live with that.”

Her smile faded, and she said seriously, “But it wasn’t the only reason.”

“The other?”

“I knew you’d never let anybody hurt me.”

Silence.

“If you get on that bed,” Nikolas said thickly, his eyes intense, “there is no going back. I have but so much willpower.”

Ronda dove for the bed. Nikolas threw his head back and laughed. She grinned up at him, then spread her legs wide open. His smile dissolved, replaced with heavy breathing and pr**cum dripping from the tip of his swollen cock.

God, he was gorgeous. Deadly body. Rugged masculine beauty. All primal, lethal male.

Never in her entire life had she wanted a man with the fire that she craved Nikolas.

Nikolas’s breathing grew harsh as he watched his gorgeous wife spread open her bald nether lips and massage her tiny little clit. Her head fell back against the pillows on a moan as her plump ni**les jutted into the air.

He’d wanted her since the first moment he’d laid eyes on her. Suppressing his desire had grown increasingly more difficult with each moment. Every second a new fantasy of what he wanted to do to Ronda had forced its way into his mind. Thank the gods he no longer had to squelch his appetite.

Nikolas dove between his wife’s legs, removed her hands from her wet, musky-scented flesh, and replaced them with his hungry mouth. She gasped, her h*ps instinctively rearing up, her fingers twining through his hair as he sucked long and hard on her delicious pu**y.

“Oh, God,” Ronda moaned, wrapping her legs around his neck. Her teeth gritting, she used her hands to press his face as close to her flesh as humanly possible. “Oh, yes,” she ground out, her h*ps undulating back and forth. “Eat it, Nikolas. Oh, God—oh, yes!—eat me.”

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 ni**les that he’d been dying to taste.

Settling himself intimately between her legs, Nikolas palmed both br**sts in his warrior-calloused hands. He pushed her large br**sts together as closely as they would go, then dined.

He flicked at and sucked on her stiff ni**les 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 ni**les the way he’d often fantasized doing while stroking his big c**k and pretending she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

“Nikolas,” she groaned in a pleading voice, her body writhing under his, “please f**k me. I’m begging you.”

He released one of her ni**les with a popping sound, his head lifting from her br**sts. 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 f**ked 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 c**k a bit farther into her tight, gripping pu**y. “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 ni**les 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 br**sts 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 cl*t with his thumb, he impaled her over and over and over as she moaned, writhed, and threw her h*ps back at him.

He rode her hard, mercilessly pumping in and out of her flesh. Ronda gasped as the tingle in her cl*t 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 ni**les, 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 f**ked 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 h*ps 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 nak*d 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 table. The others, all as nak*d 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 ni**les. 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 nak*d br**sts, 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 ni**les 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.