Page 23 of Tamed for Her Pleasure

My sister continues out, the door closing behind her and shutting the nosy clansfolk out.

“Unhand me!”

Her tussling has set a fire in her belly, it would seem. “Never,” I say, lowering my lips to the crux of her neck and grinning. “Don’t fool yourself, mate. You would not be happy if I did.”

Her growl is adorable. “I don’t know what you have planned, but we do not have time for any of your barbarian tricks.”

“There has been no more snow. And we have time for whatever I say we have time for, little girl.” I pull her tighter against me and grind my cock against her ass. “If you can be good for me, I will let you suck my cock.”

She makes a disparaging snort at odds with her actions when she rubs her ass against my aching shaft.

My grin is all teeth.

Time to put doubts out of everyone’s minds.

Time to claim my mate.

Chapter Nine

Penelope

Iwish he wouldn’t call me little girl. The wicked barbarian already knows it is my weak spot and is pressing an unfair advantage by using it.

I expect him to toss me over his shoulder, but instead, he scoops me into his arms and strides toward the back of the hall, where a thick curtain is drawn across. He ducks and pushes past it and I realize he has carried me into his barbarian bedroom.

The bed can only be described as kingly. It is sturdy oak and covered liberally in furs. Wooden shields adorn the walls along with more of the richly woven tapestries, while thick woven rugs cover much of the wooden floor. An oak table sits beside the bed with a lamp, presently unlit. The fireplace has been prepared with kindling and logs, ready for lighting. The window is shuttered, but weak sunlight peeks in between the gaps. It is cool here, with the thick curtain separating it from the main hall and the fires there.

He stops in the middle of the room and gazes down at me. I have not reached for my daggers or attempted to escape hishold. He was right. I don’t want him to take his hands off me, and I would be sorry if he did. He is so handsome, compelling, and devastating when he puts his hands upon me in the way of sensual delight. I have never met anybody like him, and I already know no one else will ever compare.

I don’t want to compare, nor do I need to. I know when I have found my one. Our brief encounter in the tent in the snowy forest outside Pershore left an impression on me. A few nerves flutter low in my belly when I consider the man is hung like a proverbial horse, and while I reason beta women couple with alphas, Alfred is more than average of their breed… and proportional from what I saw. I anticipate some discomfort.

I swallow thickly.

“I’m going to light the fire,” he says gruffly.

I nod, feeling suddenly shy and a little disconnected from what is happening to me.

He takes two more steps and stops at the side of the bed, where he lays me down. I lift up, but he presses a hand gently to the center of my chest.

“Don’t move. Please. I very much wish to be the one doing the unwrapping, but it is fucking freezing in here. While I will do my best to keep you warm, a little heat would not go amiss.”

I nod, conceding his point and watching him stride for the fireplace. Here, he takes to one knee and, with a few strikes, lights the fire. He blows upon the kindling until the flames begin to curl, and then he adds logs, waiting to be sure they have taken.

He stands up and slowly turns to face me. His steps are slower this time, bringing him to the bed where I wait, still fully clothed. His eyes travel all the way down my body and up again.

“You look fucking perfect in my bed,” he says. “I’m glad the first time shall be here.” His sudden smirk sets off the butterflies in my belly. “I might even concede about that wedding nonsense your advisor is so intent upon.”

He reaches for a buckle on his cloak, releases it, and tosses the garment over a nearby chair.

I sit up.

He growls.

“No,” I say, uncurling from the bed and rising to my feet. “You wish to do the unwrapping of me, and I wish to do the unwrapping of you… kick off your boots, and I will do the rest.”

He arches one brow in a gesture that is becoming familiar to me. Then he kicks off his boots one at a time and stands tall and to attention, awaiting my pleasure.

His arms are bare and thickly muscled, leading to broad shoulders that make my fingers itch to pet. His leather jerkin covers his chest and belly with laces at the throat. Two long, loose braids are secured by thin leather strips, and fall over his shoulders. His only adornment is a leather strap with a jade pendant nestled in the hollow of his throat. Only now, as I stand before him, I am reminded of how enormous he is.

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