The Undoing (24 page)

J
ace propped herself up on her elbow. “I'm a little hungry.”

“Eat later,” Ski told her. “Get breath back now.”

“I have my breath back.”

“Probably because I did most of the work.” He heard something and looked over to see that Jace had thrown her legs up and was trying to wrestle her jeans off without removing her running shoes. “What are you doing?”

“Figured I'd get naked,” she replied, her feet over her head. A little more and she would flip over entirely. “It's harder than I thought.”

“Maybe if you took your shoes off first . . .”

“At the time that seemed an unreasonable request. Now I'm spotting the error of my ways.”

“And yet you still haven't done it.”

“Well, now that I've started . . .”

With a growl, unable to watch her do this anymore, Ski rolled to his knees and grabbed hold of her ankles. He held her legs with one arm and then yanked off her shoes before pulling off her jeans.

“Hey! I was making progress.”

“I am in no mood for obsessive behavior.” He pulled off her tank top and unhooked her bra, tossing both to the floor. “I deal with obsessive behavior all day, every day. I refuse to do it during sex.”

“But you handle obsessive behavior so well.”

Ski untied his boots, yanked them off, and dropped them to the floor. His jeans, boxer briefs, and hoodie followed. He then removed the condom he'd forgotten all about and tossed it into the wastebasket by the bed. Naked and comfortable, he relaxed back into Jace's big bed.

“I handle obsessive behavior because that's part of my job,” he informed her.

“You're the protector of the Protectors, aren't you?”

“Someone has to look out for them. Otherwise they'd all be broke, homeless, and dangerously unstable. If there's one thing we've learned over the centuries, Vikings need jobs. If they don't have them, they cause all sorts of trouble.”

Jace stretched her back vertically across Ski's chest, arms over her head.

“If you're the Protectors' protector, who watches out for you?”

“Ormi.”

“And who watches out for Ormi?”

“We all do. And his wife. She's a Holde's Maid. Inka. She's really mean, but she makes us oatmeal cookies, so none of us bothers to complain.”

“I'm concerned with your reasoning, but . . . okay.”

“They're really good cookies.”

Jace rolled over so that she was now on her stomach. With her arms and legs outstretched, she pretended to be flying.

Ski watched her for a bit before he decided to point out, “You do know you can really . . . fly . . . don't you?”

“I know. But this is fun, too.”

Without warning, she abruptly rolled off him and leaned over the edge of the bed, giving him a delightful view of her ass. When she again sat up, she had the strip of condoms in her hand. She reached over him to place them by the pillow at the head of the bed, then stretched out again on top of him lengthwise.

“Are you comfortable?” she asked.

“Very.”

“Good.” She rested her cheek on her crossed arms, and closed her eyes.

Ski watched Jace for several minutes. She appeared wonderfully relaxed.

Her eyes closed, lips parted. All that beautiful curly hair spread across her shoulders and down to just above her waist.

That's when he noticed it. A tattoo from her right shoulder to the middle of her back. It was hard to see through that thick mane of hair, but he saw part of it.

Using the tips of his fingers, he brushed her hair to the side.

The image was a large, black crow, a metal cuff around its ankle and a length of chain that was broken as the bird took flight to freedom.

Jace's tattoo was bold, brilliantly detailed, and strong, saying everything there was to say about her.

“I didn't know you had a tattoo.”

“Because it's not for you and the world. It's for me.”

Ski smirked. “Not much for sharing, are you?”

“Nope.” She opened one eye. “So . . . you get your breath back yet?”

“Get over here and find out.”

Instead of moving around so they were face-to-face, she rolled across his chest like a log until her stomach covered his head.

Ski would have laughed but he couldn't breathe, so he slipped his hands under her and lifted Jace up. She squealed and giggled, her legs and arms kicking out.

“Put me down!” she ordered. “Put me down!”

Ski dropped her onto the bed, but before she could scramble away from him, he caught her ankle and dragged her back.

He straddled her legs around his waist and dropped her plump, perfect ass right onto his cock, so that it was caught between them. He hoped the position would keep him from doing something stupid.

Still laughing, Jace put her arms around his shoulders and leaned in, kissing him on the lips.

But as soon as her lips pressed against his, Ski no longer felt like laughing. His hands suddenly dug deep in her hair, turning her head so he could delve deeper into her mouth while he pushed her back against the bed, moving his body over her.

It was like a wildfire, shooting through him. His need to bury himself inside her. Become part of her. Her naked body beneath him feeling smooth and warm, her arms tightening around his neck.

She was kissing him back with the same intensity, her body opening up for him. Welcoming him.

He almost took the invitation. Almost took her right there, but he couldn't do that to her twice in a row. She deserved more. He wanted to give her more.

By Tyr, he wanted to give her everything.

 

He pulled out of their kiss and Jace almost yanked him back. She'd never had a kiss that managed to take and give all at the same time. Maybe because Ski didn't see her as property. She was a willing partner in what was happening between them and it amazed her, the difference it made.

Her entire body felt alive. She hadn't experienced anything like it since she'd woken up in her grave. But instead of feeling immense rage, she felt nothing at the moment but desire.

Intense, soul-defining desire.

Ski kissed his way to her breasts, stopping to suck one nipple while his fingers squeezed the other.

He switched sides, the wet nipple he left behind becoming even harder in the coolness of her room while at the same time aching for him.

Jace arched into him, opened her legs wider. She wanted Ski inside her again. Taking her with that big Viking dick, forcing her to make sounds she'd never made before.

But he would not be rushed. She lost track of how long he teased and toyed with her breasts. She just knew that she'd started sweating halfway through, and that her hips kept pushing against him, urging him to fuck her.

When he finally moved farther down her body, she began to tremble and locked her eyes on the ceiling. She knew what he was planning to do . . . it would be her first time. For that anyway.

As the Great Prophet's wife, she'd only gotten missionary. Straight, boring, uninspired missionary.

She definitely, at some point, wanted missionary with Ski, but she wanted everything else with him, too. She had the

Kama Sutra
under her bed and she wanted to try every possible position in it.

Jace also had a copy of some Victorian erotica under her bed, and there was this whole thing with a long feather that she'd been dying to try since she'd read the story.

Ski was between her thighs now, his face hovering over her mound. She felt his hot breath against her skin. He pressed her thighs apart, his fingers still gentle on the sensitive flesh.

“Jace.”

She continued to stare at the ceiling, almost afraid that if she looked away for a second, it would all end. That she'd lose everything.

That this would turn out to be just an amazing dream. Her Second Life. Her sister-Crows. Ski. Even Lev.

She knew if that happened, she'd never recover from the loss. Not ever.

“Jace . . . look at me.”

Swallowing past her fear, Jace looked down at Ski. His smile was warm, but concerned.

“You okay?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Are you sure? We can do something else.”

“Oh no. I mean . . .” She forced herself to calm down. “I've never . . . but I really want to. With you. Right now.”

Ski's brow creased the slightest bit, and Jace knew exactly what he was thinking as he stared at her. How, in a ten-yearlong marriage had two people never gone down on each other?

Well, she wasn't about to explain that at the moment. The last thing she wanted to think about was her ex. She didn't want him tainting this amazing night.

She didn't want Ski thinking about him, either. Not when they were together. Alone and naked. Even Lev was off with Brodie, the big dog taking care of the puppy like she always did when Jace wasn't around. They had this room and this night all to themselves.

That slight crease on Ski's forehead abruptly faded and the smile returned, and then she couldn't see anything but the top of his head.

He began by stroking the length of her pussy with the tip of his tongue. From bottom to top, more times than she could count. Then he'd stop, slide his tongue inside her, and circle it around, before he returned to licking her from bottom to top. He went through the whole process again and again until Jace was once again sweating and whimpering, her hands gripping the sheets as she writhed beneath Ski's mouth, her hips searching out something that Ski wouldn't let her have.

It crossed her mind to beg. She was honestly at that point. Anything to get him to give her what she needed so badly.

She was desperate. Hungry. Needy. And she didn't know how much more she could take.

His tongue stopped stroking past her clit and abruptly centered on it. It rolled around it over and over. When he drew Jace's clit into his mouth and began to suck on it the way he'd sucked on her nipples, the pleasure roared through her.

Everything inside her exploding, her brain short-circuiting.

She didn't realize she was screaming out until she noticed that Ski had reached one hand up and covered her mouth even while he continued to suck on her. With his free hand, he slid two fingers inside her and she came again.

Her hands released the sheets and slapped over Ski's hands to help him silence the scream that came out of her.

The last thing she needed was for her drunk sister-Crows to come storming in here to protect her.

She didn't need protection. She needed Ski.

When he finally stopped, Jace dropped back to the bed, panting and sweating and moaning. But she managed to remember that Ski still needed his payoff.

She reached beside the pillow and grabbed the condoms. She threw them at his face before forcing herself to roll over onto her stomach.

After taking a few more breaths, Jace forced herself up onto all fours.

She looked back at a stunned Ski, her curly hair wet and flat across her face, shoulders, and back. She didn't say a word—and wasn't sure she could even if she'd wanted to—she simply waited.

 

His cock had been hard since the kiss. Now, as Ski gazed at Jace on all fours, staring at him through that thick mane of sweat-soaked hair, the ends flicking up with each hard pant, he was afraid he'd come right then. Without his cock being touched. Just a random explosion.

He'd never seen anything hotter before in his life. Had never wanted a woman more before in his life, either.

Jacinda Berisha was absolutely everything. Beautiful, sweet, smart, and wanting to be fucked by a Viking.

He couldn't have asked Tyr for more.

Ski quickly tore open the condom package and sheathed his cock. Then he moved forward until he was right behind her. He didn't even have to lift his cock a little bit, it knew exactly where to go and was inside Jace's hot pussy before Ski even realized what he was doing.

It was like the goddamn thing had a mind of its own!

Once he was inside her, he closed his eyes and let his cock just enjoy where it was. It was so happy there.

Jace moved and Ski opened his eyes to see her lean down and lower her head onto her folded arms. As she got into this position, she also managed to push her ass farther onto his cock.

Then she waited for him. Let him do this any way he wanted.

Ski took hold of her hips, moved closer in, then gave himself another moment of just holding still.

But her muscles were still pulsating from her orgasms and he couldn't wait anymore. He tried to be gentle about it, but that wasn't happening, either.

He hammered into her, unable to think of anything but his own pleasure. His own needs.

But that was unacceptable. He wasn't just some . . . Raven. He was Danski Eriksen, a Protector. He had to be better than that.

So he tried to slow down, tried to get control. But when he was able to understand what was going on outside of his cock, he realized that Jace was pushing back against him. She was fucking him back, moaning into the pillow, and he wasn't sure, but he kind of got the feeling she was begging him . . . in Russian.

The only time he'd seen Jace start speaking in another language without meaning to was when she was pissed. When she was about to go into a rage.

She wasn't raging. She was fucking him back. In this with Ski every step of the way.

So he gave up trying to be nice or gentle or in control. He let himself go with the only woman he'd ever trusted enough to do so.