Edge of Control: (Viking Dystopian Romance) (23 page)

And then finally he was seated so deep inside of her that he could feel her wetness on his balls. Her cunt gripped him in a tight fist while her powerful thighs clenched hard around his waist. Riordan lifted his head from her tits before he shot his load without a single thrust. He reached behind her and he took her braceleted wrists in one hand, holding them there behind her back. Just because he could.

He dragged his free thumb over that pain in the ass mouth of hers, smiling when she opened to him. Then he dipped it inside, murmuring his praise when she sucked on him like it was his cock.

Her tits were thrust out against his chest, her back was arched. She was licking and sucking his thumb and god knew she was talented with that tongue. He was balls deep in all the scalding hot cream of her juicy cunt. She’d even said
please.

It was almost perfect.

“Do you deserve this cock?”

His voice was a scrape of sound. Barely audible. But he could feel the way she shivered, from her mouth all the way down to that pussy that gripped him so hot and tight and deep.

She pulled her mouth from his thumb and then bit back a gasp when he moved it to one of her tits, rubbing the wetness all over her nipple and then pinching it, making it stand up and point the way he liked it. He could feel her heels in the small of his back, as if she was already urging him on, and he felt drunk as fuck on all that sunlight that illuminated every tight, lean curve, every bit of ink, every last scar that made her Eiryn.

And his.

“If you don’t answer me,” he told her, letting go of her wrists and pulling her close so he could get those sweet tits against his chest and his mouth against her ear, “I’ll pull out. I’ll rub one out on your hot little tits and make you walk around the rest of the night with my come rubbed deep into your skin, smelling like sex and sin and horrifying all these good, compliant people.”

He felt the way she bristled. She clenched against him, making his cock ache even more, and he didn’t have to watch the way she lifted her chin. He knew the stubborn gesture too well. He could feel it as she did it.

“That sounds hot,” she retorted in the low whisper she only used when they were in the caravan, calling his bluff. “Bonus points if I give every other man here a visible boner.”

He laughed against her neck and shifted slightly inside of her, his own hunger roaring at him when she shuddered, like maybe she couldn’t control her body the way she did her mouth. He had some ideas about how to handle both.

“I also won’t let you come until the rains start,” he told her. He liked the scent of her hair, sweet herbs and incense. He liked her warm, soft skin, scented with pine and arousal. “Is that what you want?”

Eiryn made a low, frustrated noise, but he knew what it meant. He nipped at her tough little chin, and slid her down hard against him, slamming her clit against his body and grinning when her mouth dropped open and her thighs gripped him harder.

“Do you deserve this cock?” he asked again, because this was a test and he was a dick and if he couldn’t have the knock-down, drag-out fight with her he wanted, then this would have to do.

Among other, more complicated reasons.

Her midnight blue eyes were overbright when she finally focused on him, and he could see everything. There were no shadows here in their bunk. There was the sound of voices from outside and the wind high in the trees, but here, between them, there was nothing but the simple and extraordinary truth of a rock hard cock and a soaking wet cunt.

Maybe this was the only truth that had ever mattered between them. It was the only one he could remember, at the moment.

She bared her teeth at him, his warrior woman.

“No,” Eiryn gritted out, “I don’t. But I want it anyway.”

“Good enough,” Riordan growled.

And then he began to move.

Slick.

Hot.

Riordan was so big and so hard Eiryn thought he might rip her in half, and the crazy thing was, she wanted him to try. God help her, but she wanted everything. She was quivering everywhere inside and out, rendered nothing but fire and hunger wherever they touched, and she
wanted.

“Look at me,” he ordered her, and she had no choice. Not if she wanted that ruthlessly lazy pace of his to continue. He controlled it—and her, lifting her hips and then lowering her against him as he thrust deep inside and took her over.

And she wanted him to keep doing exactly that forever.

He was fully clothed, only his trousers shoved open at the fly to let that monster cock of his out. His thermal was like a rough callus everywhere it touched her skin. His trousers rubbed against her ass and thighs. And he used his mouth and his beard like twin torments, feasting on her mouth and then torturing her tits.

Back and forth until she thought she might scream. Or burn into a crisp, leaving nothing but ash behind.

All the while he kept up that same deliberately lazy, deliriously possessive pace that was going to drive her insane. The slow thrust in. The long drag out.

She rode him there in their bunk, absolutely naked and exposed in every way, and Eiryn knew that she would regret this bitterly once it was done. She would hate herself. She would hate him. She would wonder what he’d seen while his dark eyes were fixed on her in all that merciless sunlight and she’d been unable to do anything but take each devastating thrust, only barely managing to keep herself from begging for the next.

But that was future Eiryn’s problem.

Here, now, there was nothing to do but throw herself into it, into him, to see where she shattered—so open and exposed and naked in his arms—and what might be left of her if she survived.

He shifted his grip on her, leaving her to ride his cock as she liked.
At last.
She brought her knees down on either side of him to give herself better leverage, rolling her hips as she took him even deeper inside her. Riordan brought two fingers to her mouth, his dark eyes glittering as she opened and sucked them in, so he was thrusting into her in two places at the same time with that same maddening rhythm.

She shuddered at that, long and low, right there on the knife-edge of an orgasm—

But he only kept his fingers in her mouth for a moment or two. He reached around her, pulling her higher on her knees. He palmed one ass cheek, pulling it to the side. It made her clit feel even more swollen against the delirious battering of his huge cock. And then he reached between her ass cheeks and rubbed his wet fingers against the tight little bud he found there.

It was like a flash of lightning, brilliant and devastating at once. Sensation rocked through her, searing bright hot into her nipples, her pussy, her clit, as if he’d thrown a switch with that dark touch. She jolted, gripping his wide shoulders as best as she could while Riordan toyed with her ass as if he could do that all day in the same almost languid way, watching her reaction with his dark eyes lazy and hooded and gleaming hot.

And that cock of his still thrusting hard and deep, still making her breath desert her every time he was sunk all the way inside her.

“You let anybody in here, baby?” he asked, his fingers rubbing and circling and making her as deliciously tight everywhere else as she was slippery and wet in her pussy.

Because she’d told him no all those years ago. She’d been humiliatingly giddy over him, but still, she’d wanted the brotherhood. Riordan was already a brother—one who would have a vote when it came time for her to take her place among them. And Eiryn couldn’t have explained why she knew—
she knew—
that if she let him dominate her that fully it would never happen. Maybe she would lose herself in him; she’d already been more than half gone. Maybe he would block her in the brotherhood because he was a dick or out of some misguided sense of protectiveness. She hadn’t known what would happen, only that she couldn’t risk it.

But that had been a long time ago. She wasn’t that girl any longer. And she didn’t want to think about that dumbass girl, either.

“I take everyone there,” she panted out at him, caught between the deliciously rude rubbing at her asshole and the thick, wet slide of his cock so deep inside her, that perfect, slick fit she was afraid would be the death of her. She dug her hands into his shoulders and met his gleaming hot gaze. “I prefer it. Every farmer in the eastern islands has plowed that field,
babe
.”

Riordan only laughed at her. “Liar.”

He left his fingers there, wet and demanding, rubbing her asshole and then sinking in, just a little. Then a little more.

It was as if his touch was wired directly to her clit. It felt swollen too big, too large with pleasure and heat and that building, overwhelming need.

Then he made it worse. He reached down between them with his free hand and played with her pussy lips, tracing the slick edge as his cock stretched her wide open. Then he slid his hard, blunt fingers higher and found her clit himself.

Eiryn froze, but he didn’t. He kept thrusting into her as she knelt astride him, harder than before. His fingers in her ass and his hand on her clit. Assaulting her from all sides, with that gleaming thing in his commanding gaze and a knowing curve on his hard mouth.

Just then, out in the narrow strip of hallway that separated the bunks, came the sound of voices. Jonathan lecturing Kamala in his usual dire way and the younger woman’s typical defense, a healthy mix of laughter punctuated with heavy sighs. They were right there on the other side of the curtain and there was no possible way they weren’t aware of what was happening in this bunk. The mattress didn’t shriek like the cots in Louisville, but it still made noise. Rhythmic and obvious, and Riordan did nothing to quiet it down.

Quite the opposite.

Eiryn flushed a deep, hot, terrible red, from her forehead to her calves.

Riordan, on the other hand, grinned wickedly and moved faster, his cock and his hands tearing her apart.

“Careful,” he murmured, more the impression of the word then the sound. He moved his wicked mouth to her ear. “No screaming, baby. No raider pleasure for my compliant winter wife.”

He rocked his hips and hit that rough little spot inside her when his cock dragged over it. Then he did it again. And again. At the same time, he pushed his slick fingers into her ass just that little bit further and with his other hand, pressed down on her clit. Hard.

And it was as if Eiryn spun off the side of the world, toppling face-first into all that sunlight pouring through the window into their bunk.

Everything went white hot and wild.

Eiryn clapped both her hands over her mouth as the explosion ripped through her. She rode him as she shook, unable to do anything to help herself as she fell apart, her head back and her body arched and wide open to him and, oh god, she was in so much trouble.

But all she could do was shake and then shake again, pressing her hands against her open mouth to keep her screams inside. He twisted his fingers in her ass when she started to come down, rubbing her clit while he pounded into her even harder, and Eiryn lost track of where she was. Stretched thin somewhere in too much sensation, strung out between his hands with his cock still pounding into her, every part of her body lost in the bright white heat, the delirious burn.

Riordan leaned forward and licked at her nipple, the hot, wet heat of his mouth setting off detonations all through her, from the dark fullness in her ass to the sharp pleasure in her clit and that deep, complicated hunger every time his heavy cock rubbed over that spot inside her. He licked again and then he sucked, sharp and sure, and she burst into another shower of flame and need and a thousand ragged pieces.

She didn’t know how long she shook apart. It felt like a lifetime. She only knew that he pulled his hands away as she crumpled forward against the wide wall of his granite chest. She rested her head there because she couldn’t lift it, and she was lost. Off in a haze of pleasure so intense she felt broken wide open. Made new. Torn completely asunder.

Eiryn was limp and still so shuddery, and it was only as he flipped her beneath him and came up over her that she came back to herself enough to realize he was still as hard and as huge as ever, wedged deep inside of her.

Riordan propped himself on his elbows and held himself there, his iron-hewn chest brushing against her nipples. The fabric of his thermal stretched over his hard-packed, heavy muscles and sent sparks that should have been impossible showering through her all over again. His cock moved lazily, making her aware of how steely and hot he was, and how soft and wet she was. The delicious contrast made her shudder. Or maybe that was an aftershock.

He wasn’t grinning anymore. He was back to the serious Riordan he only ever showed her, and only when they were in private. Dark and fierce. In her face.

And deep inside her.

The sunlight cascaded down between them, wrapping them in all its bright gold. It made his brown skin glow, and made her wish she could strip him naked too, so she could rub herself all over his beautiful, war-ready body. She’d felt his power in that clearing earlier, every perfectly aimed punch and devastating swing of his makeshift blade. She’d rolled with him in the dirt, worshiping the might he carried in every battle-honed line and muscle even as she’d fought it, and him.

But Eiryn was a woman forged in that very same fire, crafted for battle and the blade. She could never, ever burn for a lesser man. That knowledge hit her with the force of one of his shots to the gut. It made it hard to keep her eyes open at all, or that was what she told herself the sudden moisture there was all about.

She ducked her head and blinked it away. Hoping against hope he somehow hadn’t seen . . .

“Look at me.” Riordan’s voice was so low. Almost low enough to ignore, but he shifted closer and took her face in his hands, holding her there. Trapping her, with her face tipped to his. Wide open.

Completely and utterly exposed.

And she still couldn’t quite breathe. Not anything like properly.

He kept that steady, insistent pace. The slick surge deep inside of her, the slow drag back out, as if he had every intention of driving her insane with his devastating control. He felt bigger with every stroke, almost too thick, almost too wide. There was no getting used to Riordan. Every thrust was a thrill, sending that dark heat curling all over her, licking at her skin and flashing hot and deep.

She couldn’t possibly come again. Her body was wrung out.

It was only when she heard her own voice, a broken little whisper that was the greatest betrayal yet, that she realized she’d said that out loud.

His hard mouth curved. And he otherwise ignored her.

Because slowly, impossibly, he built up that fire in her all over again. His hands were warm and endlessly tough as they framed her face. He looked intent and too serious as he thrust into her, that slow hot roll more intense with every deep stroke.

And before she knew it she was raising her hips to meet him. Then she was arching her back to get the rough touch of his thermal and the pressure of his chest against her breasts again. She drew her knees up, pressed down with her heels, and then every thrust was pure magic. Dark sugar and hot, hard wonder.

He was watching her intently as he slowly, deliberately unraveled her. His gaze stayed on her face and Eiryn couldn’t tell anymore if she was flushed and sweating—or if the wetness on her cheeks was overflow from that knotted, gleaming hollow of something far more than simple need inside of her that swelled to take her over.

For the first time in all her time with him, then and now—and maybe in the whole of her life—she didn’t care.

And this time, she broke apart in a long, lush roll with her mouth tucked into the inside of one elbow to keep herself quiet. Wave after wave crashed over her head and dragged her back under. It went on and on and on.

Riordan dropped his head beside her, then let himself go. He slammed into her, his cock a marvelous battering that kept her going, rolling and rolling, until he poured himself into her at last. She felt the sharp heat of him burst through her, as bright as the afternoon sun, and had no idea how he managed to stay so quiet while he came and came and came.

He collapsed on top of her, heavy and intense, with his head beside hers on their sad little pillows. She could feel the mad drumming of his heart. She could feel how hard he was breathing and the intense heat of his body through his clothes, and all of that made her glow with purely feminine satisfaction.

But he wasn’t watching her, for once. He couldn’t see her face with his buried and his eyes screwed shut.

And that was why she let herself cradle him instead of shoving him off.

Eiryn snuck her arms around his back, letting one hand drift up beneath his shirt almost absently until she could press it against the scar she’d given him as a parting gift ten years ago. She held the jagged diagonal across the small of his massive back against her palm, a blunt, ridged reminder that she’d deliberately cut him in a moment a great deal like this one.

Back then, she’d found it poetic, in the profoundly dark way everything had been that summer. He’d stabbed her in the back in his way. She’d let him talk her back into his bed and then she’d returned the favor, and more than that, she’d enjoyed his blood on her hands.

It feels like a fair trade,
she’d snapped at him.
A little bit of blood for your broken promises and my dignity. Seems to me you got off easy.

Eiryn would never forget the way he’d looked at her then. Dark and terrible. Broken.

You better get the fuck out of my sight,
he’d growled.

And she’d obeyed, her hands stained with his blood when she’d shot him the finger on her way out the door.

She still didn’t regret it. But she wasn’t that girl any longer, betrayed and ripped up into all those mean and bitter pieces. She couldn’t seem to locate any of that anger in herself today. Her fury had propelled her for years. It had been her only friend for a long, long time, especially these past few months after she’d learned the truth about what Tyr had done to her father. Defiant, relentless fury had been the engine behind everything she’d made of herself, everything she’d done. She’d been so
furious
for so long she hardly knew how to function without it
.