The Viking Wants Forever (14 page)

Read The Viking Wants Forever Online

Authors: Koko Brown

Tags: #Black woman white man romance, #vikings norse mythology, #thor, #Time Travel Paranormal, #comic book superhero romance

BOOK: The Viking Wants Forever
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She glanced over her shoulder. The others were fifty yards ahead of her, well out of earshot. Still it wouldn’t do for them to catch her talking to herself. She’d already lost cool points and possibly everyone’s confidence in her bid for freedom by behaving like a recent divorcée at Club Hedonism.

Turning back around, she was arrested by a red hummingbird with emerald green wings hovering amid a patch of bright pink flowers. Wings batting a hundred times a second, the bird made a beeline in her direction. Before it crashed into her, she ducked. It recovered quickly, performing an aerial somersault and charged her from the left.

“What in the h...”

In self-defense, Reese swatted at it. Catching one of its wings, the bird tumbled into the tall grass, knocking over several stalks. Reese waited for it to retaliate.

“C’mon...c’mon.” Reese ticked off the passing seconds with her fingers. At the count of ten, and feeling a heap of guilt, she rushed in after it. Several yards in, she found it in a partial clearing, lying on its side, eyes closed and eerily still.

“If my day could get any worse.” Reese crouched down and fingered the bird’s wing. As if her touch were a catalyst, a violent shiver wracked its body and its tiny breast expanded...and expanded...and expanded.

In horror, Reese watched the bird inflate to the size of a large beach ball. “You. Have. Got. To. Be. Kidding. Me,” she whispered, backing away as the bird/beach ball continued to convulse and swell, double in size. Bones cracked and popped, reshaped. Its long black beak shriveled into what looked like a human nose. A hand jutted from the center, followed by a leg.

In fear, Reese stumbled backward. Losing her balance, she tripped over her feet and fell on her butt. “This isn’t happening.” She blinked up at the sky. Although still daylight, the outline of the full moon was already visible. If only she could enjoy the view. Right now she had more pressing matters like avoiding a shape-shifting hummingbird.

Reese sat up and came face to face with the reenactment actor from the bus. Crouched over her, completely swathed in green, a chunk of his red-flamed hair concealing one eye, he sported a mischievous grin.

“You’ve been a bad, bad girl.”

“Loki,” she breathed, recognizing his voice.

“The one and only.” His smile faded as he stood. Reese did as well. She hated being at a disadvantage. “And
you...
you have disappointed me.”

Muscles tensed for flight, she asked, “How so?”

“Instead of regaining my tribute, you’ve become Moses. You were not brought here to free anyone from bondage.”

Caught red–handed, Reese rushed to explain, “I was only trying to kill two birds with one stone.”

“I. Want. My. Tourmaline!” he bellowed. If that weren’t enough to scare the bejeezus out of her, the earth’s axis tipped one hundred and eighty degrees, and a large crack appeared beneath his feet. Black soil shot in the air, as a bottomless gap ripped across the valley floor.

“I’ll get it.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed at the same time the earth stopped splitting in two. “When?”

Reese looked up at the sky. How much time did she need to seduce Eirik and have him so wrapped around her finger he’d give her his most coveted possession. He might as well burn her now.

“I will give you two cycles of the full moon. You fail and I will wipe you, Eirik and his entire village from the face of the earth.”

“You can’t—”

He moved so fast, Reese only caught a blur of green before she found herself dangling several inches from the ground with his hand wrapped around her throat.

“I will do whatever I please,” he growled. “You failed to forget I am in charge here.”

“You’ve made it perfectly clear,” Reese choked out. “I have two months to get the tourmaline, or you’ll destroy everything.”

* * * * *

E
irik watched Reese over the rim of his tankard. Constantly underfoot, she seemed overly attentive tonight. She made sure he never ran out of wine, and even fussed over his meat, cutting it into small morsels. Only because he liked having her near, Eirik didn’t object to her treating him like a helpless babe.

Eirik sat back and regarded her while she directed the movement of a special keg of honey mead from his private stores. What had changed? Just this morn, she’d delivered his porridge, then beat a path back to the kitchen with barely a good morning. Now she attended to his every need as if he were Odin’s gift to the world.

Had the bath and seeing him in all his natural glory been the catalyst? Aye, that must be it. Eirik smiled smugly. He tended to have that effect on women. All the ones he’d taken to his furs had admired his form, and many had sought to retain his favor, albeit unsuccessfully. To save himself from an unsavory attachment, he’d never bedded a woman more than once.

He doubted this would be the case with Reese. Even now, he plotted to keep her trapped in his bedchamber no less than a sennight. He already deduced one night would not be enough to exorcise his lust. Eirik took a long swill of his ale. Ironic how the first woman who’d resisted him, after so many had desired him, would be the only one to make him yearn for more.

“How is your meal, my lord?” Reese’s voice dripped with sweetness as she set a basket of fresh baked flatbread between him and Bjarni. He wished she would use that tone more often with him...in a more intimate setting—preferably his bed. Licentious fantasies entered his head. A fire stirred his blood, spiraled downward to his cock, making his pants a tad tighter. Before she witnessed his shame, he surreptitiously placed his mug over his lap.

“Tonight, the meal is unusually exceptional. And I covet the service.”

Her smiled widened, showing even white teeth. Privy to biting, Eirik imagined her leaving her mark on his skin. The sensation hammered over his psyche with such intensity, he struggled to construct a sentence.

“Have you had a chance to eat?” he finally choked out. “I’m eager to see how you like the boar.”

Eirik almost kicked himself when she stiffened, and her smile slipped a fraction. “Slaves are not allowed to eat,” she said tightly, “until all those in the main hall have retired.”

That could be hours from now. Eirik frowned. All these long-held traditions and hollow customs existed to provide a semblance of order were looking more and more like obstacles. And when faced with barriers, Vikings did what they did best when something stood in the way of what they wanted.

“Go eat.”

A faint frown drew her delicate brows together. “Excuse me, my lord.”

“Go eat your dinner, Reese.”

“But you haven’t finished yours.”

Why was she fighting him on this? “Anyone ever tell you that you talk too much?”

“All the time, my lord.” Her smile reemerged bigger and brighter than ever, and it took every fiber of his being to resist pulling her into his lap and kissing her. His desire for her proved stronger. He reached out, grabbed a hold of her waist and sat her down between his legs, trapping her. As if he needed to, since she didn’t fight him. Exhilarated by this small victory, he slid his hand around her throat to cradle her neck.

Eirik meant for the kiss to be gentle. He intended to kiss her once then let her go—to only have a taste of what kept him up more nights than he could count. Instead, the moment his lips touched hers, his intentions went south and he felt himself grow rock hard.

He nibbled at her mouth, bit at her lips, craving her sweetness. To his amazement, she didn’t haul off and slap him. Encouraged, he banded his arms around her, lifting her onto his lap and fitting her against his rising erection. When she pressed closer, arching into him, he wondered if she would scream if he threw her over his shoulder and carried her to his bedchamber.

Unused to restraint, Eirik continued to push his luck. He licked the seam of her lips and the most carnal thing happened, she moaned softly and opened to him. More than a little familiar with invasion, Eirik pressed forward. His tongue tangled with hers, demanding more and promising everything.

After weeks of denial and pursuit, having her willing and an active participant was so shockingly good, Eirik was rocked to his very core. And deep down, he knew this feeling...this kiss...this woman would forever be etched in his memory.

And then what had seemed so perfect crumbled.

“Swive her already,” someone barked. Obviously liking his jest, the idiot repeated it again, this time slapping his hands on the table. His chant traveled from one table to another and then another until it was taken up by the entire hall.

“Swive her...swive her...swive her!”

As if hit with a bucket of snow, Reese jerked in his lap, breaking their kiss.

“What does swive mean?”

Eirik wished he hadn’t heard her over the chanting and feet stomping because a wave of heat swept from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. 

“They are being crude.”

Being elusive only piqued her interest. “What does it mean?”

Cheeks burning as hot as a poker, Eirik stared her into brown eyes with sympathy. “It means to tup.”

Still befuddled, her full lips bowed downward and Eirik wanted to capture the bottom one in his mouth and suck on it. Instead, he held up both hands. “Swiving means this.” He pressed his thumb and index finger together to form a circle. He then inserted the middle finger of his other hand inside of it. Unfortunately, everyone else was keenly watching them because the building erupted in laughter.

Not liking being the butt of a joke, Eirik’s skin went clammy. Blood drained from his head, making him dizzy with rage. He stood, and only a tight hold on her wrist kept Reese from crashing to the floor. 

“Be quiet,” he bellowed, stunning everyone into silence.

“Eirik...” Reese squeezed his hand, and he jerked toward her almost knocking her over.

“What?”

“Why don’t you swive me?”

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice growing thick with anticipation. “If I take you to my furs, nothing, not even you will be able to prevent me from being inside you.”

Meeting his gaze boldly, she said, “then take me to your furs and swive me.”

With a loud whoop of triumph, Eirik tossed her over his shoulder, and carried her to his bedchamber.

* * * * *

“A
re you sure?”

Reese felt an odd flutter in her belly, the rich, almost pensive timbre of his voice playing havoc with her senses. Or was it his fire-and-ice blue eyes when they made contact with hers? Searing with intensity, pure animal lust was reflected in their depths.

Loki’s threat might be the catalyst for her finally acquiescing, but Reese wanted this Viking—always had, since the moment she laid eyes on him. A desire so fierce it was darn unsettling. An equal opportunity settler, her love life reflected her inability to go after what she wanted. So a string of mediocre boyfriends, who’d elicited only the most lukewarm of sensations, had been the bane of her existence. So much so, she’d put dating on the back burner and hadn’t taken any lovers for a very, very long time.

More than ready to bump uglies, Reese stepped closer to him. Heart pounding, she said, “take me to your furs and swive me.”

Reese gasped when Eirik swooped her up and deposited her on his shoulder. Her world tipped on its axis, and a thunderous cheer, rivaling a University of Alabama title game, had erupted around them.

“Roll Tide,” she muttered.

Eirik must have heard her because he swatted her on the bottom. “Too late to back out now.”

“I’m all in, Viking.”

“As I soon will be.” Chuckling, he cupped the sweet spot between her thighs. He massaged the

sensitive area, and blood rushed to her clit. With each stroke, her pulse quickened. By the time, he shouldered his way into his bedchamber, her blood was pounding in her ears and she was struggling to catch her breath.

Thankfully, Eirik didn’t waste any time. He immediately walked over to his bed, placed her into it and crawled in next to her. Unlike their walk of shame, he didn’t touch her. He was combing his long fingers through the silver fur underneath them, and she yearned to have his hands on her again.

Arching toward him, she asked, “Nervous?”

With a smile curling his lips, he peeked up at her through a thick fringe of dark eyelashes, and the sensitive button between her thighs throbbed. “I feel like if I follow my natural instincts, I will scare you away or hurt you.”

Reese was flattered by his air of caution. Still, it didn’t prevent her from inching closer to him. She curled her leg over his hip, and was rewarded with loud masculine groan. “Then maybe, I should take the lead.”

Gaze locked with hers, he palmed her calf. “The lead?” he rasped huskily as he caressed her from ankle to thigh.

Nodding, Reese pushed her weight into him. Warm and shamefully innocuous, his touch ignited her natural instincts. Body throbbing like one huge hormone, Reese rolled him onto his back. Of course, he had to be willing. There was no way she could have moved a two hundred pound Viking if he didn’t want to be moved. He reached for her but Reese intercepted him. She grasped his wrists, then pushed his hands over his head.

“I like this, you taking the lead.”

Reese had a feeling he wasn’t simply jesting. Responsible for the lives of many, he probably carried the weight of the world. At the moment they were kindred souls, Reese mused as she undid the laces of his suede trousers.

“You remembered lesson number one?”

“That...and I really want to see this beautiful body of yours.”

Smiling, Eirik bent his arms and rested his head on them. “Makes two of us,” he purred.

The hairs of her sex grew damp while she worked with the bound lacings. A mounting frustration filled her. She couldn’t undress fast enough! So, when his glorious cock sprang free of its tight confinement, rising from a thatch of golden hair like the Washington Monument, she voiced her delight with a breathy and extremely heartfelt, “oh, baby”.

“Do you think I will be a tight fit?” he whispered as she rolled his breeches over his slender hips and down his muscular thighs. Reese eyed his erection curling upward past his belly button. Thick as her wrist, he would be a mouthful.

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