Tie Me Up, Tie Me Down (Vikings Underground #2)(28)
Author: Sherrilyn Kenyon

“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 h*ps from behind, making her gasp in momentary fright. His long, thick c**k 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 c**k 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 bu**ocks 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 br**sts jiggled beneath her with each of his thrusts, her ni**les getting stiff and aroused.

“Harder,” she gasped. “More.”

“Do you like my c**k 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 h*ps 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 h*ps back at him—faster! faster! faster!—loving the sound of his animalistic groan while she milked his c**k 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.

On most subjects Nikolas was pretty flexible, as Viking warriors went, but on the issue of remaining below the ground his opinion could not be swayed. He clung steadfastly to the belief of the ancients, that one day the inventions of Outsiders would cost them dearly and spread disease and chaos to all those living above the ground. Females, for reasons unknown, would dwindle in numbers and bloodlines would die out.

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.

“I’d better go,” Cora sighed, standing up. Her belly was so ripe Ronda wouldn’t be surprised if she gave birth to twins. “Olaf and I are to sup with his parents this eve.”

“Fun, fun,” Ronda teased her daughter.

Cora frowned. “If Olaf’s sire tells another boring ode of his warrior days gone by, I will throttle him.”

“Ahhh,” Nikolas chastised his eldest child, “leave Otrygg to his musings. At his age, ’tis all he has left.”

Cora smiled her agreement as she lifted her satchel and prepared to leave. “Oh!” she said, looking back at her parents. “I almost forgot to show you something my husband wanted you to see, Papa.”

Nikolas lifted one dark eyebrow as Cora fished out an aboveground newspaper and handed it to him. “I don’t know how I could forget something like this,” she said. “One of Olaf’s scouts retrieved this from the Outside.” She took a deep breath. “Alas, the prophecy of the ancients is coming to pass. Olaf thought you would want to know before the rest of the Underground is abuzz.”

Frowning, Ronda stood and read the newspaper by her husband’s side. She stilled, the article jarring:

One year ago today, after twenty-five years of research, scientists perfected the ability to choose the gender of babies to be conceived. Detractors, including many feminist groups as well as the pope, are trying to get genetic tampering barred in Congress, so far with no success. The detractors cite statistics from last year’s pregnancies, which suggest that for every female that was born last year, ten male babies had been born…

Ronda felt dizzy. Was it true? Could those old prophecies she’d thought of as rubbish actually be coming to pass? Goose bumps formed on her arms.

“Have no fear, my love,” Nikolas murmured, sensing his wife’s distress. “The Underground is safe.” He wrapped a secure, powerful arm around her. That vein-roped arm was as comforting now as it had been two decades ago. “And we always will be.”

A smile of admiration and love formed on Ronda’s lips. “No matter what lies ahead for any world, above or below the ground, I will always be by your side.” She leaned into him, needing his strength and warmth. “I love you, Nikolas Ericsson. I will always love you.”

“I love you too, Ronda Ericsson.” He waited for her to look up at him, then he winked. “I’ve always thought you to be very cool.”