Chapter 40
Forty
Rose
They headed back toward the barracks, to the private room where they had already rested together once. Rose was practically brimming with emotions and feelings and so much love that it made her head spin.
She was decorated as a troll wife now. She had moved on from maiden to wife, and someday when the time came, she would be a crone like all the other women she looked up to here.
She had never felt more like she had a family, a place to be, and maybe, just maybe, a little more healed than she had been hours ago.
Gunnar opened the door for her, and she stepped into the room that felt like a portal into a new world.
Someone had been kind enough to light candles, illuminating the space with a bright golden hue.
Sure, it was still the same room. It was only her small bed and her dresser that didn't have enough clothes in it for the little girl in her who still wished to feel pretty. But it was hers. Theirs.
She spun around to look at him, leaning against the door. He'd pressed a foot against the wood, his arms crossed over his still bare chest. So handsome. So capable. So tolerant as he arched a brow at her.
"Not much of a bridal suite," he grumbled.
"Ragnar offered you the house, if I overheard him correctly."
Gunnar grunted. "I have no intention of sleeping in the same bed where Ragnar and his wife have slept. Besides, they've been all over that house and the images would completely and utterly turn my stomach. Can you imagine seeing the two of them..." He paused, clearly uncertain if he could continue.
She hoped someday he wouldn't mind making jokes about people having sex in front of her. Two consensual people who loved each other were not going to trigger a bad memory for her.
So she nodded gravely and replied, "He doesn't have much of an ass. I would not be surprised if the sight was rather frog-like."
Gunnar’s mouth dropped open, and he blinked at her owlishly before howling with laughter that was so loud, someone pounded on their door as they walked past. And still, Gunnar didn't stop laughing.
He came toward her, giggling as if she had told him the funniest joke before gathering her up in his arms and falling backward onto the bed.
Gravity took them, and she had the strange sensation of floating for a moment. She quite liked that. Maybe there were other ways to experience falling while still being safe. He did tell her they were going to adventure for the rest of their lives after all.
She landed on his chest with a soft "oof", and then propped herself up.
Her hands against the vivid green of his skin would never stop startling her.
She flexed her fingers, so pale and strange against his skin that seemed more normal to her than her own.
The candlelight in the room illuminated his features, casting the shadows of his jaw and tusks into even more visible differences that should have terrified her.
They didn't. Not in the slightest.
He quieted, content to look up at her as she stared down at him, and she realized this was her bridal suite. A moment in time that she would never forget.
"When I was a little girl, I used to dream about what my wedding night would be like," she whispered. "Who my groom would be. Would he be gentle and kind, or would he be fierce and take what he wanted?"
Gunnar traced a claw over her cheek. "I would have hoped that your husband would be kind and soft. A woman's first time is always difficult, and it's his job to make sure it isn't."
"How did you know humans are virgins when they get married?"
"It's a rather important detail most trolls know.
We're horrified by it, if you were wondering.
No one should enter a marriage as a virgin.
" He made a face. "How would you know what you like?
What the other person might like? I cannot imagine bonding with my troll wife and then fumbling around in the dark, hoping I was touching what I thought I was touching. How embarrassing."
And just like that, he reassured her that she wasn't some damaged, tainted thing that no one would want. Whatever worries or fears might have popped up disappeared. In an instant.
Because he knew what she needed far sooner than she did.
As she reached for the hem of her skirt, Gunnar stopped her. His hands gripped hers, gently, always so gently. "We don't have to do anything if you don't want to. Just because it is expected by some does not mean I expect it. If you want to sleep, troll wife, we will sleep."
She curled her hands a little more firmly in her skirts. "And if I don't want to sleep?"
Fire burned in him. She could see the hunger in his gaze and in the way he looked her up and down. "Then I am your servant, fair lady. Allow me to service you in whatever way you wish."
She pulled the dress up and over her head, along with the nightgown that was still underneath it. Bare instantly, she sat astride him and felt him hardening between her legs. He really was impressively large, but she still wasn't afraid of that. Not yet, at least.
Arching down, she pressed her lips to his and willed him to take control. Which he did, because of course, he did. Gunnar hadn't ever been good at holding himself back from her, and that was the best part of him.
His lips devoured hers, chasing kisses from her when she pulled back, as though he was begging her for a moment longer. He drank from her deeply, all the while groaning in the back of his throat.
Claws flexed against her thighs. Tiny pricks of pain that reminded her in every instant that he was very much not human. He was her troll. Her husband. Everything that she had ever wanted.
And when he ground up against her, that hard bar of his cock pressing against her clit in a sinful way, she felt her body tensing. Felt her entire form bracing for the pain that she knew would come.
But all she had to do was open her eyes. Green skin. Vivid, bright green skin that was spread over miles of muscle. No pale, sweaty flesh. No grasping hands that made her hurt, only Gunnar, panting beneath her as she sat up straight.
"Please," he begged. "Please let me taste you again."
Who was she to deny him when he'd been so good at it the first time?
His hands helped her move, dragging her over his face again.
But this time, she had the headboard to hold on to as his tongue swirled around her clit.
She gripped the wood hard as she gasped, grinding down on his features in a way that only made him groan even more.
He’d said to sit on his face, and she damn well was going to.
Tusks pressed her thighs open even further, the burn feeling so good as he chased her orgasm. Licking, sucking, even gently biting in a way that had her gasping and squirming.
"Fuck," he groaned against her skin. "You taste so sweet."
She stared down between her legs, seeing the wild tangle of his hair that he always kept so brushed, and the way his flashing eyes looked up at her with so much hunger. She knew that he would do this for hours. He enjoyed himself while he was doing this.
Gods, he'd come just from eating her out.
And that was the thought that chased her over the edge. The memory of him groaning into her flesh as he’d come all over her back. Just because he'd given her pleasure.
The sounds of him, even now, made her clench down harder around his tongue that had plunged into her core, just to taste her as she came.
Panting, she turned to liquid in his arms as he gathered her up and laid her on the bed with him.
Slowly, he rolled on top of her, his lips trailing down her neck to her breasts.
He licked at them, talented with his tongue.
His fingers plucked at her free breast, the rings on his fingers rolling over her skin and the warm metal adding a new sensation that she thought she liked.
But then she opened her eyes, and he was looming over her. The candlelight was blocked by his shoulders. Blocked so that all she could see was a male form, his shoulders broad and too big.
The tension returned.
No, no, she wanted to enjoy this. She didn't want to be so afraid that she couldn't even think, but that was exactly what she was. She was terrified, trembling, locking up her muscles...
He gathered her up and rolled. Then she was back on top of him, the light turning his skin green again and illuminating all the traits that were different about him.
"You're safe," he said, his gaze locked on hers. "You're safe."
Instantly, she melted again. Safe. Of course she was safe with him. The thought of that shadowy figure was a memory. That was all.
Gunnar brushed his claws through her hair, gently working at the knots on her neck. Here with her, even when it was hard. "We can stop," he said. "We don't have to continue."
"No," she ground out. "They don't get to take this from me, too."
"Don't push yourself, Rose."
"I'm not pushing myself. For the first time in my life, I actually want someone.
Desperately. I want to feel you inside me.
I want to know what you taste like. I want to know every inch of your body and the sounds you make when you finally slide inside of me.
I want to fuck you more than I've ever wanted anything else. "
Rose planted her hands firmly on his chest and just looked at him. Her man. Her Gunnar. At the heartbeat that raced in the cords of his thick neck, at the tusks that glinted in the candlelight, at the glistening of her own pleasure that still slicked his mouth.
She sat up, spreading her legs a little wider. "Help me, please."
He eased his pants down, not all the way off, just enough to free his cock. He didn't want to startle her. She could tell. He was moving as slowly as he could, but he couldn't hide his reaction to her.
"What do I do?" she asked. "How do I get back to that... the place you brought me to?"
"You want me to help?" he asked.
"Please."
Gunnar took that job very seriously. His hands skimmed her torso first, those claws tracing down her sides in white hot lines of pleasure.
He reached up to cup her breasts, pulling her forward enough so he could latch onto them.
And then he started to speak. Dirty, filthy things that filled her mind with good thoughts.
"You are so beautiful. I am obsessed with you. Look how well you respond to me. Fuck, you're going to make me come before I'm even inside you."
He made her feel beautiful. Sexy. Wanted. All with his words.
Then his fingers delved between her legs, and it didn't take long at all until she was soaking his hand. She might have been embarrassed by that if he wasn't already praising her for it.
"So needy, all for me. Yes, Rose, give it to me."
Her second orgasm sparked through her faster than she’d thought it would. Sudden and instantaneous, she threw her head back and spasmed around his fingers as he sank them deeper into her.
He was big, but she could take him. She was certain of that.
And when she was ready, Rose reached between them and grasped him. He gasped like she had put a hot poker to his flesh. His back arched, lifting her up with ease as though he couldn't stop himself.
Those piercings were so hot to the touch. So warm from his need and she...
She was so ready for this.
Rose notched him against herself and sank down a bit. Just a bit. Enough to feel the head of him inside of her and those piercings that were so very, very different from anything she had ever felt before.
The metal brushed inside of her, not scraping, but creating even more exquisite pleasure that almost burned as she sank deeper, deeper.
He grabbed onto her hips, holding her halfway down him. "Hold on," he panted. "Please, please. Slower, Rose."
"Why?" she asked, cheeks burning with desire. "I don't feel any pain."
"I'm going to come," he snarled. "Just give me a minute, woman."
Even that was a gift. She was seated on top of him. She had all the power. He wasn't forcing her to stop, and if she continued, she'd make him come. All of this was in her hands. She was the one in control.
Rose kept her gaze locked on his as she kept moving.
Staring into those strange, green eyes, so different from her own.
Watching tiny creases appear between his eyes as he tried to hold himself together.
Noticing the way his cheeks burned darker green with every second until she was seated fully on him.
She was stuffed full of him, her body, her mind, her sight. This man that her own people would call a monster.
"Move Gunnar," she ordered. "Make me come again."
His hands came down on her hips and he did as he was ordered. He gave her pleasure, sliding in and out of her, whimpering as he bit his tongue.
"Don't come yet," she said. "Not until I tell you to."
She could see him trying so hard. Making sure that he was giving her all the pleasure she demanded, but he was struggling.
He loved her. So much so that the mere sensation of being inside her was almost too much.
That this moment was bringing him to his knees and she.
.. Fuck, she loved this feeling. She loved being this powerful, and this adored.
He ground his teeth and his head arched back, his pace stuttering as he fought against his own orgasm. On the edge already herself, she leaned down and bit at his neck.
Then, her voice deep with desire, she said into his ear, "Come for me, Gunnar."
Together, they exploded. She could feel herself clenching so tightly around him, and that metal cross deep inside of her only made it feel that much stronger.
Breathing hard, she spiraled down with him, slowly, breathing hard.
He brushed her hair out of her face and kept staring at her. Together. No one else but them. And then she realized why he was doing it.
Gunnar had kept her in this moment and chased away all the nightmares and bad memories because he knew how different he looked. He knew that the men who had hurt her couldn't come into this place as long as she focused on him and him alone.
"I love you," she breathed.
"You are my heart," he replied, and pressed her hand over the thundering beat in his chest. "And you'll always be safe in here."