Chapter 17 Queen Emeline #2
I would be a liar if I said no because I often imagined it was his fingers bringing me to climax. I also would think about when Skarth, Ulf, and I were one. All reservations were forgotten for that one perfect moment.
Our bodies were one.
As were our souls.
I never felt safer. Or more loved.
How I long for it again.
The memories are an aphrodisiac, and as Ulf watches me pleasure myself, I can taste both men on my tongue. Their signature fragrances overwhelm, and I moan, remembering Skarth thrusting into me as I tasted Ulf on my tongue.
Ulf reaches down and begins playing with my nipples, squeezing them hard. He knows how I love this combination.
The familiar burn ignites in my belly, but it’s not my hand I want. No matter how desperate I sound, I do not care. I will beg if I must.
“I—” I tongue my upper lip, eyes half-mast. “I want…”
“What do you want, ástin mín?” He slides his hand up the valley of my breasts before cupping my throat.
He takes my breath away—literally, only heightening the pleasure.
The longer I take to respond, the harder he grips my throat, which is why I delay replying.
The pain is something both Ulf and I enjoy. It’s something about delayed gratification that makes the pinnacle so sweet.
With Ulf siphoning off my air, I gasp, “I want…you. always.”
Ulf hums in satisfaction before releasing me. He lifts me with ease, and the moment I wrap my arms around his nape, I also lock my legs around his waist. He slams me onto his hard cock. We both moan the moment he is sheathed deep.
“Is this what you wanted?” he asks, thrusting upward.
I gasp because I almost forgot how good he feels—almost.
But when he begins to move, I see that my memory has done a poor job of this because this is unlike anything I have ever felt before.
Making love with Skarth is beyond words, but with Ulf, there has always been an animalistic undercurrent between us. I believe it’s because our love is tempestuous. And sometimes the line between love and hate blurs.
But our bodies have always spoken the same language.
I bounce up and down as Ulf wraps his arm around my waist, thrusting into me quickly. He is inside me so deeply that it robs me of air. He is everywhere, but it’s still not enough.
He bends forward and bites between my neck and shoulder, marring me with his sharp teeth.
I tug at his long, wet hair, which cascades down his muscular back. Our bodies move in sync, taking and giving. He encourages me to lean back, and when I do, he grips my hips and commences fucking me brutally.
The farther back I lean, the deeper the angle. It feels as if he’s splitting me into two. Craning my neck, I watch the way he enters and withdraws, the sight only making me grow wetter. His cock is thick and hard and feels incredible.
I bounce back on each thrust and clench around him.
A string of Norse spills from his sinful lips as he throws his head back, gripping me tightly. His strokes are punishing.
Under the full moon, I feel like a water nymph because this moment is pure magic.
Ulf places his arm along the length of my spine and grasps the back of my neck to support me as I arch my back, bouncing on his cock.
“You slay me, ástin mín.” He blows out a breath. “No matter what happens, you have my heart. eternally.”
Rare moments like these only cement my feelings for him. He doesn’t love easily, but when he does, he loves with his entire heart.
He is loyal.
He is protective.
And he will always be mine.
And I will always be his.
“I love you.” My confession carries on the still night sky.
“ég elska tig.”
Hearing him return the sentiment in Norse has me closing my eyes and chasing my climax. I explode around his cock, and he follows suit moments later.
He scoops me in his arms, our hearts pounding frantically against each other. I nestle into him, feeling at peace, my body lax. But when I feel Ulf tense up, I pull away and peer into his eyes.
I see regret.
“He saw,” he says, not needing to explain who “he” is. “I did not know until we were done. I swear it.”
And I believe him.
With a sigh, I regretfully let Ulf go and walk out of the water.
Quickly dressing as best I can in my ruined gown, I frantically search for Skarth.
I do not regret what Ulf and I did. But I do regret hurting Skarth, as I know what it feels like to watch the person you love be with someone other than you.
However, with Skarth, I imagine his pain is worse because my actions were voluntary.
I reach our lodgings and see Skarth sitting by the fire, his back turned to me. I don’t make my arrival a secret.
But he still doesn’t turn.
“I will not insult you and make excuses for what you saw. Or tell you that I did not want it. Because I did.”
This is probably the end of it all, but at least I’m honest.
“Thank you for your honesty,” he finally says. “But that does not lessen the need to rip Ulf’s head from his shoulders and torture him until death seems a small mercy.”
“I know.” I stand where I am and don’t attempt to console Skarth. I don’t want to patronize him.
“I accept that you love him too, but damn this all, Emeline, this fucking kills me inside!” He tosses his mug into the fire, and the alcohol ignites a large ember.
He stands, turning angrily, and if looks could kill, I would be dead where I stand. He is wrestling with what to do. His love for me demands that he accept my decision because this is what I want. But the alpha Viking in him is demanding retribution for another man touching what is his.
With fists bunched by his side and the veins in his taut forearms popping, it’s safe to assume the latter is winning. His broad chest rises and falls with quick succession. His nostrils are flared, and his eyes are a pure black.
His rigid stance screams fury, and the sight scares and excites me all in the same breath. He is desperately trying to control himself, but I can see he is quickly losing the fight.
“I cannot stay here,” he says, attempting to push past me, but is stopped when Ulf appears out of nowhere and grips his wrist.
Skarth instantly yanks out of his hold, squaring off with him. They are almost nose to nose. Neither Viking will back down. I will not have them fighting like infants.
“Enough!” I cry, wedging my way between the men.
My words fall on deaf ears, however, because Skarth reaches for Ulf behind me. I slap his arm away, eyes narrowed. My action only infuriates Skarth further.
“Move, Emeline, or so help me Odin.”
“I will not allow this.”
“You do not have a say in the matter.”
“You arrogant Dane! I am the cause and will not have you arguing over something such as this.”
Skarth curls his lip, beyond livid. “You may be part of the reason, but it would have always ended this way between Ulf and me.”
Ulf chuckles from behind me, pushing into me. “Yes, the better man won.”
Appalled by his arrogance, I spin and slap Ulf’s cheek, taking him off guard. “How dare you! I am not some prize to be won. You know better than that!”
“Forgive me,” he quickly says, attempting to console me, but his touch is the last thing I want right now.
Skarth knows better than to offer me comfort.
“Something beautiful has turned to ugliness. Why must this be some game? I love you both. Just because I feel this way does not lessen the love I feel for either of you. Or does it mean I love one more than the other?”
Skarth scoffs, clearly annoyed.
Spinning back to face him, I shove him in the chest. It’s in vain, but it still feels good. “You have been gone for a very long time. I did not know if you were returning. Or if you had a new family. I learned to rely on myself. So who I love and how I love is my choice and mine alone.
“I’ve never kept it a secret that I love you both, and you seemed to accept the fact. So don’t stand here and snicker because, quite frankly, I loathe both of you just as much as the other!”
Skarth doesn’t hesitate as he snares my hair and yanks my head backward. “Watch your tongue, Emeline.”
“Or what?” I taunt, eyes locked on his.
“Or I will watch it for you.”
Before I can give him an earful, he brutally forces his mouth and robs me of air as he kisses me with violence. He locks me in place by clasping my hair firmly, forcing me to bend to his will as he molests my mouth with his.
I fruitlessly fight but eventually concede because he is intent on punishing me.
I kiss him back with as much anger and passion because at this moment, I love to hate him, and when he slaps my arse, I dare say he feels the same way.
We are lost in these violent delights when I feel another set of lips on me.
Ulf’s.
As Skarth devours my mouth, Ulf commences kissing my neck. Both their fingers are interlocked, tugging at my hair. I am being pulled both ways; split right down the middle. A little reflective of my feelings for both men.
Skarth gathers the material of my ruined dress and tears it to shreds. As barbaric as this action is, it sends my body into overdrive.
I scratch at his chest as we kiss, desperate to claw my way in.
He growls into my mouth, biting my bottom lip.
I taste blood, which he soon licks away.
Ulf ceases kissing my neck, and the two men look at one another. The air is filled with tension. I wait with bated breath, unsure how this will end.
“You watched us…now it’s my turn to watch you.” Ulf clearly has a death wish by saying this.
Skarth’s jaw clenches, but he cups my throat and squeezes hard. “Is that what you want? You want to be shared?”
I shake my head. “No, I want to be loved equally. Why does it have to be a separate moment? Why can’t our love be one?”
“Because my love is selfish and does not share. You are mine, Emeline. But you are also his. I do not like it, but if this makes you happy, then so be it.”
“You make me happy, my love. But so does he.”
Ulf glides his hand up my flank and cups my breast. He tugs my nipple, rubbing his thumb over the pert peak.