Page 58 of Viking

“With the squirting thing?”

He chuckles. “Don’t push it, darlin’. You haven’t done everything I’ve asked of you.”

“You’re so mean,” I mumble, but I stretch out my neck and shoulders and prepare to show him again.

Viking is a formidable opponent. He towers above me, focused and ready to knock away each one of my blows. If I want to catch him off guard, I need to do what he least expects. I strike, lunging forward with the wooden spoon, but instead of aiming the blow at his abdomen, I angle the weapon lower, right above his member. I slice the blunt tip across his groin and grin as his hand squeezes my wrist, effectively forcing me to drop the weapon.

He guides my hand over his thick shaft, lowers his head to my ear, and growls. “Clever little bitch.”

I bite my lip and grin up at him, and then I’m flat on my back as he hovers over me. Viking slips his hand in my pants, shoving deep inside me. I’m still slick from our earlier love making and I arch into his touch.

“You wanna soak these pretty panties, babe?”

“Yes,” I whisper, squirming against him.

Viking quickens his pace, his fingers shoving in and out of me mercilessly hard—violently—but it doesn’t hurt. It’s the total opposite of pain.

There’s a tingling in the soles of my feet, and then my whole body is burning in fire, in ice. I cry out. I can’t help the animal sounds that come from my throat. I don’t care that anyone could walk in and see us. In fact, it only makes me wetter.

My moans seem to spur him on, and his hands work faster. His fingers curl inside me, hitting a sensitive spot I hadn’t known existed. I bow my back, feral, a woman possessed and no longer in control, and Viking keeps up his brutal pace. The sucking sounds my body makes as he drives in and out are both mortifying and insanely erotic. My toes curl, my eyes prick with tears and liquid heat surges through me, soaking his hand, my clothing, and the ground beneath us.

“Fucking beautiful,” Viking whispers. His mouth covers mine, his tongue pushing in deep and curling against my own. And then he pulls back and smiles as he flexes his fingers again.

I moan. “I think I love the training room.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Arie

The attack was perfectlyexecuted. Gator had killed the tower guards, the clubhouse vans had easily blown through the gate, and all three MCs had crossed the winding causeway. The Brothers had scattered; and the guards pushed back to the village center.

I climb from Viking’s bike as he switches off the engine and flips the kickstand down.

“Remember,” Viking says. “Once the causeway closes, we’re trapped here until morning. We free the Sisters, women, and children. Kill the men, burn every building, and get the fuck off this island.”

The brothers nod and slide from their rides, check their weapons, and group together.

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