Viking's Claim (Kilts & Kisses #4)(13)

I know it’s Tor—somehow, I just know. So I’m not worried about it being someone else coming in here to find like this. But I’ve been growing angrier and angrier for the last however long I’ve been in here, naked and tied up… still.

He’s wordless, and when I hear him move onto the big bed behind me, his weight shifting it beneath my knees, I tighten my scowl.

“My little—”

“Don’t you sweet talk me,” I snap, fuming as I kneel on the bed, hands still bound behind my back, and the air teasing over my bare nipples and between my thighs. I can feel Tor tensing behind me.

“What is this?” he growls.

My jaw tightens as I snap my head around, glaring at him out of the corner of my eye.

“What is this? This is you leaving me tied up and naked in your tent!”

Tor chuckles, and my blood boils.

“And this is amusing to you?”

His laugh is deep and rumbling, and I want it to make me even madder, but when his big warm hand slides over my bare hip, I bite back the moan of pleasure.

“Yes, little bird,” he chuckles deeply. “It is.”

“Well I’m so very glad that I’m able to amuse—”

“I am sorry, Rhona.” His words are deep and low, rumbling through the air as I feel him move in close to me from behind.

Damnit.

Instantly, the attitude and the indignant spitefulness I’ve been building up inside of me begins to melt away. Quickly, I gather it back up, determined to be mad at this man for leaving me like he did.

“Anyone could have walked in!” I snap.

“No, they couldn’t have. And they wouldn’t have. They know this is my tent.”

My scowl deepens. “And if they had?”

“They would not have.”

I grind my teeth. He’s avoiding the question.

“Well, if they had,” I mutter, “they would have walked in on me without a stitch of clothing on, tied up on your damn bed like a… like a….” I shake my head, anger fuming through me.

“Like a whore!”

There’s a second of silence after my outburst, and I shiver as I feel Tor’s warm, bare chest rise and fall against my back with his measured breaths.

“Have you tied many whores up in your bedroom, little bird?”

My scowl deepens.

“Have you?” I snap, immediately acutely aware that I don’t think I want to know the answer.

“No,” Tor growls.

“So just girls you didn’t pay at all?”

I can feel him scowl behind me.

“No, little bird. I have not.”

“No stolen highland ladies? All those farm girls you’ve kidnapped to ravage and have your filthy way with?”

Tor’s hand slides around my neck, making me gasp before he gently cups my jaw and turns me as he cranes his head around me, until we’re looking into each other’s eyes.

“No, Rhona,” he growls. “And I don’t steal ladies and farmer’s daughters away, not for… ravaging,” he grins wickedly. “Nor for anything else.”

“Lies.”

His hard smile flashes at me.

“Stories, everything you’ve heard.”

“You’re a Viking,” I spit. “Stealing women away to ravage is what you do.”

Slowly, his eyes never leaving mine, Tor shakes his head.

“It’s not what I do,” he growls lowly, his face hardening. “You want to know my sins, little bird? Fine. I’ve killed. Pillaged, stolen, plundered. I’ve burned down homes and castles, I’ve pirated merchant ships and wagon trains. I’ve made myself wealthy taking what isn’t mine. I’ve cut men in two—good men, some of them.”

His eyes narrow at me as he slowly shakes his head.

“But I do not, and never have, taken a woman for… that. You’ll find that despite the stories and legends about us, that none of my men do either. Other tribes perhaps do, but not mine. Not my people. If I were to learn of even my closest friend laying hands on an innocent woman in that way, I’d cut them down where they stand.”

I swallow, trying to be mad at him, but losing the battle. Damnit why does this particular Viking savage have to be so damn noble? It makes wanting to hate him very, very hard.

“And yet here I am,” I spit back. “Stripped naked by you, with your hands having been very much laid on me.”

There’s a spark of fire that blazes in his eyes for a moment as he studies me.

“So, what am I?” I hiss. “Your little plaything? Your little prize from your conquest?”

He smiles thinly, his eyes blazing.

“Is that what you wish to be?”

I glare at him, and slowly, Tor beings to grin—those white teeth and steely grey eyes flashing.

“Go on, lie to me, little bird,” he groans. “Tell me you haven’t thought about exactly that—of being my little toy to tease.”

His hand slides up my side, fingers brushing every rib until my skin prickles and my pulse skips. His hands slide over my breasts, cupping them firmly as his fingers roll over my nipples. I gasp, arching my back and whimpering in spite of myself as his hands burn over me.

“My little plaything, to taste.”