Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Penelope

I wish 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 his hold. 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.

He doesn't stop me as I release the straps holding his braids and smooth my fingers through the long, surprisingly soft, locks. Like the rest of him, his hair is part of his uncivilized fa?ade—another aspect of his wild beauty.

Standing on my toes, I unlace the jerkin before tugging to get it off. His grin is broad as he lifts his arms but does nothing else to help me. I mutter under my breath and finally wrestle his jerkin off and toss it to the floor.

My chest is heaving, and only some of that is the effort involved.

I am still seething that Cassandra, the hussy, dared to talk about sucking his cock. She's lucky I did not stab her with one of my many blades. And as for the other two, talking about how they were favored…they were not. If Alfred had wanted any of them, he would have already claimed them. He did not. But the moment he met me, he knew that I was different.

I rest a hand on his chest, hating how his clanswomen have touched him when he should be mine and only mine. They are in the past now. It should cool my temper that they are not his chosen one. But jealousy has a grip upon me.

I curl my hands into claws and scrape my nails down his chest. He does not react, letting me leave scores in his flesh without a flinch. Leaning forward, I press a kiss over his heart, soothing the hurt before I nip.

He groans. That he likes the sting of my teeth should not surprise me; he is a barbarian, after all.

Next, I slide my palms down over his firm abdominals until I reach the arresting V that disappears under the waist of his pants.

I circle him slowly. He turns his head to watch me move around. I purse my lips as I take in his broad back and the scattering of scars—both large and small—before trailing my fingertips over the firm muscles until I am facing his front again.

His feet are broad and naked against the rug-covered floor. There are a few goosebumps across his flesh despite the heat from the fire that crackles on the other side of the room.

My fingers shake a little as I undo his belt and allow it to drop with a clatter to the floor. His cock bulges against the leather of his pants, and I slide my hand down to cup over the material.

He hisses a sharp breath, and my eyes snap up to meet his. I watch his face as I trail my nails over the length from root to tip and back again. A tic thumps along his jaw. Oh, he likes that very much, although his hands remain at his side, and he does not interfere.

He is content, it would seem, to let me explore.

Buttons secure his pants, and I undo them one at a time. On the third, the material loosens, and the head of his cock springs through the gap and into my waiting hand.

A low, rumbly sound emanates from his chest—his purr. It is a sound of deep contentment, and I like that I am the cause.

Impatient, I tug the last two buttons open and then, gripping his pants at the waist, push them down.

They get stuck on his muscular ass, but I am determined and shove until they hang at his hips, revealing the deep grooves of his thick-waisted abdominals and the full length of his cock.

The man is art—every glorious inch of him.

One large push and his pants pool at his feet.

He kicks one foot and then the other out to stand before me, naked, his feet planted a little wider.

I am aware of his chest moving, but I have eyes only for his cock. I did not have the opportunity to look quite this closely before, but it is daunting in size, and near the base is a very faint swelling—his knot. I curl my fingers around his length and pump slowly. His purr dips to a growl as I cup his balls—they are heavy, potent, and full of his seed. The pre-cum leaks copiously trickling all over my hand. My pussy has grown slick as I handle him, but I suppose one needs additional lubrication when one is equipped with such a lethal weapon.

A telltale sweet clench follows low in my womb as I see the faint swelling near the base. I am under a spell. His spicy scent seems to saturate the air and sends me a little dizzy. Then, because I cannot help myself, I sink to my knees and take the head of his cock into my mouth.

I groan as the taste explodes into my mouth, humming as I swirl my tongue around.

"Gods," he mutters gruffly. "Fuck! That feels good."

His words are a balm over my jealousy, soothing my angst. No other lips will ever tend him again—none but mine. I am claiming him, sucking dutifully upon his firm flesh until he can see me and only me.

His fingers spear my hair. The rough tug as he loses himself in what I do is like wildfire tearing through me, igniting my arousal, making my pussy slick with need, and my breasts ache for his touch.

I crave him, but I also need this: to be his, to be claimed as his mate in his barbarian chamber, to feel the woven rug beneath my knees, feel the fire blazing behind me. I will make him every bit mine as he makes me his.

"I am going to come," he growls. "There is going to be a lot, and you're going to swallow every drop like a good girl, aren't you?"

My belly takes a slow tumble, and I double down, working my fingers up and down the length as I suck, lick, and lap, trying to stuff as much of it as possible into my mouth.

His fingers tighten on my hair. He seems to grow in my mouth. He is close.

I tell myself that I am ready, but I'm not. The sudden gush chokes me, and I pull back.

His hands clasp my face, holding me there, forcing me to take. I swallow, my chest heaving as I gulp and cough around the thick invasion. More and more fills my mouth, leaking from my lips, dripping down my chin, and splattering against the rug beneath me, and still he keeps coming.

His low growl sets all the little hairs at the back of my neck rising and a pulse of desire in my core.

Finally, he pulls free, and I gulp some much-needed breath.

My hands drop to my knees. My mouth feels bruised, my throat sore, and my eyes watering, but I have never felt more alive.

His cock jerks between us, taunting me, and the swelling, now more pronounced, draws my gaze.

"Such a good girl," he says, and my eyes snap to meet his. He bestows me a lazy smirk and swipes his thumb across my chin before pressing it into my mouth.

I suck.

Why does it taste so good? Why do I crave more?

Why is his member still fully hard and bobbing between us?

His eyes seem to burn into me, filled with his desire.

He leans down, and his lips crash down over mine. I groan as our tongues tangle. My fingers are in his soft hair, holding him to me even as he holds me to him. The kiss is aggressive, full of nipping teeth as we vie for dominance, a battle I am willing to lose if only he would touch me how I need.

The kiss goes on and on until I am dizzy and feverish with desire.

His lips lift slowly, and I chase them, opening my eyes reluctantly when he draws me away.

We share gusty breaths.

"It is my turn, little girl," he says darkly. "My turn to do the unwrapping."

Alfred

My chest heaves as I try to temper the aggression coursing through me. I told myself I could endure, could let her touch me and explore, that it would take the edge off this feral hunger I feel inside.

It has not.

It has merely whetted my appetite for more.

Her scent fills my nose—aroused female. I don't need to check to know her pussy is weeping for attention when it perfumes the air and clouds my good intentions to go slowly with her, an untried beta.

Now, there is no hope for it—she has roused my beast.

A long time ago, in our distant ancestry, we were descended from shifters. At some point, we separated. Thousands of generations have passed since that time, and while we are outwardly human, we are still driven by instincts that reach back to that distant past.

I am conscious of the potential turn in the weather, that our time here is limited, that change is upon me, and that my well-ordered life and the future I once saw spreading out before me has shifted dramatically since a certain princess crashed into my life.

She is not like the women of my clan. She is not like anyone I know at all. I never thought it might be like this for me, that I might be fucking poleaxed by a foreign lass at that. I never thought much of Hydornian, nor any who do not come from the clans. They are all judgmental, looking down upon us as though we are simple because we live different lives to them.

Now everything has changed.

I swallow hard, feeling my arousal rise ever higher.

She is so tiny before me. I hold out my hand and draw her up to stand. Her size belies her power and skills. I have never seen anything as fucking hot as her teaching Cassandra her place.

Penelope is as fierce as she is tiny. Yet she is still a beta and one untutored in the ways of alphas. Lest I scare her, I must ride a delicate balance between all that I want from her and the many stages one must go through so as not to break the lass in the claiming.

But fuck, the shake of my hand, as I move it to collar her throat, speaks of the great strain it presents.

My other hand finds the buckle of her leathers at her throat, unclipping one at a time. I feel her trembling under my fingertips, and I squeeze lightly upon her throat.

"What do we have here? A pretty little princess has wandered into the barbarian's lair."

Her throat works under my fingers. I think she very much likes everything about this, that I am different from her previous lovers.

My hand tightens over the delicate column of her throat as I think about other men touching her, and a growl escapes my lips.

The final buckle on her jacket comes free, and it parts to reveal the generous swell of her tits. I push it aside on the right and cup one plump mound in my big hand.

"How many men have seen these?"

She shakes her head.

I squeeze my fingers over her throat, and her mouth pops open, her hands lifting toward her neck.

"Hands down!" I bark, dragging her closer and up onto her tiptoes while squeezing her tit roughly. "Unless you want me to bind you again."

Her hands drop, and her chest heaves. Her eyes are wild as they clash with mine.

"Do you like the sound of that, hmm?"

She shakes her head, but I know that for a lie. "How many?"

"A few," she stammers.

A few are too fucking many. "No man shall ever look at them again but me."

"They won't," she says quickly, which cools my temper enough for me to ease my grip on her throat.

I capture her nipple between my finger and thumb and roll it cruelly. She arches up into the touch. Her lips part, and her eyes remain locked with mine.

"I think somebody likes it when I'm rough with her. Don't they? I think I have a naughty little girl on my hands. One I'm going to need to tame. Is that you? Do you need to be tamed for my pleasure?"

Her eyes flash with a familiar fire, although she does not speak to deny it.

Her breath is a little unsteady as I toy with her breast, cupping it before pinching her nipple again. Her aroused scent blooms anew. I imagine how hot and wet she is between her thighs… her taste upon my lips.

I will have a taste again. And again.

Releasing her throat, I push the jacket roughly over her shoulders. It drops to the floor.

God, she is so beautiful, with her glorious hair spilling over her shoulders and tits heaving. Lost in a haze of lust, I squeeze them together. "You have big plump tits," I say. "They make my mouth fucking water. I'm going to need to come all over these. Mark you thoroughly as mine."

My hands lower to the waist of her pants, where I tug the buckle of her belt open before unraveling it slowly.

I look from the belt in my hand to her and back again. Her pants are gaping, but I will get to that, for I am considering how very much I like her bound.

Unable to interfere.

"No!" She shakes her head and dares to take a step back.

I'm on her, capturing her wrists and yanking her close to me.

She is not used to clan ways, I remind myself. My instincts are clamoring, but I force myself to release her. "You need to learn to trust me. Learn to let go." My mind struggles for the words to say that I might convey the depth of my feelings, how important her submission is to me. "I crave your submission."

Her eyes search mine; her tits are quivering with her unsteady breaths.

Just when I'm convinced that she will tell me it is too soon, that I'm moving too fucking fast, she nods, dips her chin and holds out both of her wrists.

My nostrils flare, and my cock jerks, leaking an enthusiastic gush of pre-cum.

I don't hesitate. Her belt is around her wrists. Not too tight, but tight enough. I want her to feel trapped, to be dependent upon me—to trust.

Lifting her, I drop her onto the bed, wasting no time securing her bound wrists to the sturdy bed frame above her head.

She huffs a breath and scowls at me as she tugs upon it.

A grin spreads across my face. "That's better, isn't it?"

"You did not mention tying me to the bed!" Her eyes are a mixture of heat and wary.

She finds it hard to let go.

"Now, where was I?" I say.

Her boots come off one at a time, landing with a thud against the wooden floor. Her pants and panties are stripped from her next.

And here I pause, kneeling between her spread legs.

She jumps as I wrap my fingers around her upper thighs. Not wanting to spook her, I slide them slowly down, over her knees and down until I reach her ankles.

Something tells me she will fight this…

"Oh! You cannot mean to…" She tries to jerk her ankle from my hold, fixes me with a haughty glare, and thrashes in earnest.

"Too late, little girl. You have already offered your submission." I grin and let her wear herself out. Then I pull her ankles to the left side, collecting the chain and cuff that hangs there.

"What are you… Oh, really? You just happen to have cuffs there? Do not dare to be presumptuous and bind me like you do your hussies. I will stab you in the heart!"

I chuckle. Perhaps it is foolhardy to presume she will not stab me in the heart when I eventually must let her go. I secure one ankle to the left and then the other to the right, leaving a little slack in the narrow chain attached to the bedpost. Done, I stop and admire my work.

"You… barbarian!" she hisses at me.

I shrug one shoulder—she is not wrong.

"There is only one hussy in my life now, and I plan to claim her as my mate. But first, I have a mind to enjoy a little snack."

She bucks.

I spread out on the bed before her, clamp one arm over her abdomen to keep her still and get my nose right up close. I sniff, drawing in her aroused scent before parting her pussy lips so I can see the slick treasure between.

"You have a tasty cunt," I say. "I may be here for some time." And then I lower my head and gorge myself, getting my tongue right up inside her before I flatten it and swipe it over her clit.

Her growls of fury turn to groans of pleasure as I eat her out, seeking to imprint myself on every inch of her slick little pussy. It is not boasting on my part to say I have some skills in this. If my memory serves me right, her stuttered breaths indicate she is about to… she thrashes her head and moans as she comes. Her arousal gushes over my waiting tongue.

I am far from satisfied, and I go at her again.

My cock leaks all over the furs, jerking, demanding I claim her as mine. I want to consume her, and I revel in her pleasure sounds and mumbled nonsense. I slide two fingers inside her, curving them up and petting the front wall until I find the magic place that makes her twitch.

"Goddess!"

There, that is the spot. I circle my tongue around her fat little clit as I pet her inner wall. She is fucking tight but also slick from my attention. Soon her pussy is making filthy squelching noises as I begin to thrust my fingers in and out roughly to aid in opening her up. It is going to be a struggle for her to take me. Certainly, she will need to build up to my knot.

"Be a good girl," I say between licks. "I'm going to need to work you up to taking all my cock."

"Oh, oh, oh," she mutters.

I thrust a third finger inside her, latch my lips on her swollen clit, and suck.

Her next climax is nothing short of breathtaking as she throws her head back and screams. The sound shoots a fire into my veins. I rise, stuffing my fingers into my mouth and sucking all the sweet juices as she lies, panting, gazing up at me through hooded eyes.

Then her gaze lowers to my flexing cock, further engorged with my arousal. Lowering my hand to her belly, I pin the wriggling little woman to the bed, line up, and push.

It is like her pussy has been sewn shut. All I do is wedge the head in her entrance, and it does not go fucking in.

Sweat breaks out across my skin. I pin her tighter and push harder.

"Alfred!"

"Fuck!" She is so fucking slippery between her arousal and mine. How do I not go fucking in?

I slide a hand under her ass, clamp tightly and bear down.