Page 5 of The Alpha's Arranged Bride

The woman’s legs were wrapped around a man’s waist. He held her pinned against the wall. Her eyes fixed on the way the woman’s head was thrown back in pleasure as she was roughly fucked against the wall, every thrust scraping her hard against the rocky surface. The man bent his head and yanked down her top, exposing one of her breasts.

Unconsciously, Prairie Rose parted her legs. She straddled one of Agnar’s thick thighs, aching and empty at her core. She moved slightly, rubbing against her leggings, which were horribly wet. So wet he could probably feel her dampening his pants.

The thought of that broke the spell she’d been under. She leaned back, shoving her legs together so fast that liquid sloshed out of the horn, spilling down the front of her dress. She scooted her bottom up too far and too hard and then she felt it. She froze, gasping when she felt the hardness in his pants thicken beneath her. For just a fleeting second, she had another filthy thought of tearing off her leggings and arranging her dress to hide everything as Agnar unzipped his pants and took himself out. She’d sink down on him, filled to overflowing from behind while everyone in the room watched, none of them the wiser as to what was happening right in front of them.

Her clit throbbed and her empty walls clenched. Fuck.

She stood up so suddenly she nearly tripped on her dress again and the rest of her drink spilled onto the ground. The hard, packed, red earth of the cave’s floor soaked up the liquid.

“Food,” she mumbled in Agnar’s direction, hoping to hide her flaming face.

He stood up and stepped beside her, placing one hand on the small of her back. She refused the shiver that shot up her spine and the rush of wetness that soaked her leggings. “Yes. Let’s.”

His guidance around the room wasn’t much for protection, but more a stamp of ownership. She was drunk and that was why she found it thrilling. It was why her body was slick and ready. Why she couldn’t stop thinking about Agnar taking her to the back of the cave and fucking her in the shadows.

It was all wrong. Why hadn’t she just pretended to drink the beer or ask for some water? Was it spiked with some kind of aphrodisiac for the celebrations?

Her hands were useless, and she could barely keep herself upright. Her legs felt like water. Agnar had to fill a plate, which he did, and then he led her back around the cave. Her head swam violently, and her empty stomach started to lurch with it. Her vision tilted crazily, or was that the cave? The drums were now a part of her, vibrating inside her chest like her rapid heartbeat.

Agnar was a battle-scarred warrior, but he carried himself like a king, even when they walked past an exceptionally dark area where the cave’s wall provided a crevice like a second smaller room. There were people in there, and they were doing things she’d never imagined. Agnar acted like he didn’t even see, walking on, but she paused momentarily, transfixed.

A woman, entirely naked, on her hands and knees on the hard floor. A huge man knelt behind her, his face buried between her parted legs while she rhythmically slipped another man’s engorged cock in and out of her mouth.

She was propelled along by Agnar coming back and taking her hand. He led her, swimming through the cave like it was dark water, back to the stone chair. He roughly twisted her onto his lap so her legs both faced the one direction, keeping her clear of his crotch and more balanced on his muscular thigh.

“Say nothing,” he repeated. Even his voice shivered through her, sending a heatwave arrowing straight between her legs. “Here. Eat this. It will help.”

She parted her lips and nearly moaned in pleasure as he thrust in a torn off piece of chicken. The meat was hot and delicious, the juices in her mouth flowing at the first taste of food since their early breakfast probably more than fifteen hours ago. There was definitely something wrong with her because she wanted to grasp Agnar’s hand and suck his fingers clean.

He kept feeding her and it was both unbearably erotic and extremely satisfying. The more she ate, the less her head swam and the more ashamed she was of herself for wantonly riding Agnar’s leg. Sort of. Something wasn’t right. She was still tingling all over. Her body was on fire and every time her mate slipped food between her lips, she had to resist the urge to suckle his fingers. She wanted to take them deep in her mouth. She wanted to do what that woman in the alcove was doing. Undo Agnar and take that long, thick cock she’d felt in his pants into her mouth. She wanted to suck him until he exploded down her throat.

Her legs inched apart ever so slightly.

Agnar paused, his finger on her lower lip. He traced the shape of her lip. The skin where he’d touched blazed fire and she couldn’t help herself. She licked his index finger, humming in pleasure at the taste of him. It was suddenly so hot in the cave, so very, very hot. It felt like the flames had leapt from the fire and trailed a path straight for her, where they caught her dress and consumed her body.

Agnar forced her mouth open and then he kissed her without warning, a brutal stamping of his lips against hers, his tongue sweeping out and caressing the length of hers.

She wanted more and instinctively reached for his face to hold him closer, wishing he’d make good use of his hands to shred her clothing apart or that he’d reach up under her dress and tear off her leggings and slip those brutal digits inside her, working her open, getting her ready and—

She was so unceremoniously dropped off his lap that she nearly landed with her face on the floor. Her hands caught her fall, hard earth grinding between her splayed fingers.

“Who drugged my mate?”

Chapter 3

Prairie Rose

The drumming ceased as abruptly as it had when Agnar first walked in. The silence in the place was its own roar, but then a younger man, slightly blurry to Prairie Rose’s eyes, stepped from the circle of dancers. He was still clothed, all in black, but she could see sweat soaked his shirt. It clung damply to him, outlining his powerful body.

“I did.”

Another younger man, probably early twenties and built as powerfully big as the first, joined him. He was naked from the waist up and his sweat-slicked skin glistened in the firelight. “I did.”

“And I.” A third.

“Me too.” A fourth.”

“I’m responsible.” A fifth.

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