Chapter 26
Twenty-Six
Elara
Ablaze ignited between her thighs at his command, making the creases of her vision blur. She would swim through a sea of flames if it meant Njáll would claim her, feed what fire threatened to consume her.
When he gazed at her with that feral, possessive glare, it made the light in her chest flicker, waiting either to be snuffed out or for life to be breathed into it anew.
“Gods,” she whispered, unsure if it was a prayer or a plea.
Perhaps both.
Njáll’s dark chuckle made her insides twist as she bucked on top of him, seeking any sort of friction.
The velvet-wrapped head of his cock slid under her hand.
It was thicker, heavier than she had imagined. For one terrifying moment, she wondered how he intended to fit it inside her. She sucked in her bottom lip, nibbling on the tender flesh.
Njáll leaned forward, the lukewarm water making room for him. Pine, sweat, and something musky lingered in the damp air. A callused thumb plucked her lip free, his dark eyes raking over her body.
The touch sent a series of shocks through her, making her stomach clench. Her core contracted and her nipples ached.
A mix of excitement and hesitation coursed through her limbs, sending a series of tremors through her limbs.
“Do you fear me, little flame?” he asked, pinching her chin.
“No.”
Confidence laced her words, even though she felt on the verge of disintegrating. Soon to be nothing more than flecks of ash and dust, drifting away with a gust of wind.
She didn’t fear him. But she’d be a fool not to question what waited on the other side.
Not to wonder what kind of pain came at the cost of pleasure. Girls talked of bleeding on their wedding nights and needing daily baths to stem the sting in their centers.
Most of all, she wondered about the finality of this decision. Deep down, she knew there was no coming back from this, from Njáll.
Whatever latent ability lay dormant inside her flared to life in Njáll’s presence. The pulse in her fingers, the light in her chest, they both hummed to bursting.
That feeling propelled her forward, desperately wanting to tether a piece of herself to her jarl. To have his steady, strong presence anchor her in the storm that awaited them.
But right now, the only storm she wanted was his. She wanted to see lightning strike in his eyes, and hear him growl like looming thunder. She wanted to unleash something primal in herself and give it all to Njáll.
“Then why do you shiver?”
Without waiting for an answer, his mouth latched onto her fluttering pulse, sucking deeply until she nearly melted under the water. His arm banded around her waist, keeping her upright, his teeth grazing the bruised skin.
“Many reasons,” she murmured.
The rigid length of him pressing into her stomach. An unfamiliar noise rattled with a strangled breath.
Something unhinged settled into his two-toned eyes, making saliva turn to ash in her mouth.
Two massive hands splayed over her ribs, his fingertips dimpling her curves. With ease, he lifted her out of the water. The air stung against her warm skin, making her gasp.
She stood before him, the glow of the fire crawling along her spine.
Droplets slicked off her smooth skin, glistening in the golden flicker of the tallow candles. The muscles in her forearms twitched, and she fought the urge to cover herself, not wanting to hide anything from him.
Slowly, he rose from the basin, the corners of his lips turning up in a hungry smile.
Water sluiced off Njáll’s body, running down the lines of his abdomen, tracing a path to the hard length pressed against his stomach.
Her chest throbbed with how hard her heart hammered against her ribs. The sound must have been loud enough for him to hear.
She dragged her gaze over his exquisite figure, the ache between her legs driving her mad.
The scars adorning his body glittered like constellations in the firelight. The warmth in her belly flared. Her eyes widened as his fingers closed around himself, languidly pumping his length until pearlescent beads glistened on the tip.
“Greedy girl,” he purred, sucking all the air out of the room as he moved closer. Two fingers hooked under her chin, bringing her gaze to his. “You. You will never question the hold you have over me. For I will serve you from my knees.”
“What?” she babbled.
Dark rings pushed against the edges of his irises as he walked her back until she hit the cold stone wall. The rough texture scratched against her sensitive skin. She squirmed, and his hands trailed over her hips, down her thighs.
Keeping his gaze locked on hers, he sank down onto his knees. Jeweled braids dripping with water framed his sun-kissed face. Elara tried to swallow, nearly choking, at a loss at the sight before her.
A man who commanded armies, whose blade drew death to the surface, had his head bowed to her. His fingertips seared crescent marks into her thighs while blowing hot air over her soaked center.
It wasn’t an act of submission, but devotion, the worshipful gleam in his gaze almost sending her to her knees beside him.
Wet heat slicked down her legs, making her cheeks burn. A dull ache hummed at the back of her head as it fell into the wall with a thud.
Instinct told her to look away, warning her that holding his stare for too long would corrupt her.
But she couldn’t.
Wouldn’t.
Maybe she wanted to be corrupted.
“Please,” she whispered, not knowing what she was asking for.
“You never have to beg me,” he rasped, inhaling deeply, his nose hovering over her core. “A Jarl tends to his kona.”
The tip of his tongue slid over her calf, his hand tracing the path. An eruption of shivers slithered through her, the feeling intoxicating.
She blinked, her mouth parting as he lifted her leg and draped it over his chiseled shoulder.
A new sensation swooped in her stomach. There was no hiding anything from him like this.
If it weren’t for how he had her positioned, she would have snapped her legs shut.
Desire stained the tops of her breasts a deep crimson, even as her nipples tightened, aching for his attention.
“Njáll…”
“Hmm,” he groaned, his dark eyes snapping to her clenching core. The pad of his thumb parted her folds, making her sob. “Needy girl.”
Saliva coated her tongue, his palms scorching her already burning body as he gently guided her forward. She barely had time to comprehend what he planned to do when his lips brushed her heat, his tongue licking through her slit.
“Gods. Gods. Gods,” she whimpered, and he breathed a low, ominous chuckle.
“Oh, little flame. The gods cannot save you from a demon. Accept that this delicious cunt belongs to me. Mine to ravish.”
Something between a pant and a moan hummed in her chest, the ragged sound a prelude to the exquisite ecstasy that would soon follow.
His tongue lapped at her, a growl vibrating her clit as he suckled. Nails dug into the stone, desperate for purchase as he traced patterns on her center that turned her into a sobbing, writhing mess under his torturous movements.
The edges of her vision blurred, the wicks of the candles seeming to spin in fiery halos. A tight thread drew across her stomach, so taut it would destroy her when it finally snapped.
He was relentless, a Jarl devoted to his charge.
And at this moment, his only duty was her pleasure.
He paused, and she whined, chasing his mouth.
A devilish grin glittered on his lips as he gazed up at her—beard glistening with her arousal and eyes blazing with heat.
It undid her. He undid her.
Seeming to take pity on her, he blew a soft breath over her slit, and she was lost, floating in a haze of desperation. And Njáll was her savior and her captor.
Soon, the wet, demanding flick of his tongue circled her clit, and her thighs quaked.
Reaching forward, silky strands of chestnut hair slid through her fingers.
Huffing a tiny, impatient growl, she tangled her fists in his hair, dragging his mouth closer, urging him deeper. She needed him to claim the last vestiges of her sanity, to take the light from her that he already possessed.
It was his. He could have it.
All of it.
“Good girl,” he groaned, the sound muffled by the delicate skin he worshiped. “Tell me. Command me, my flame. I am yours.”
The permission to make him hers unraveled the thread of unease that lingered. Her nails scraped along his scalp, pushing his face into her until he moaned.
“More. Now,” she snarled, a demand wrapped around the plea.
He flicked at her faster and faster until she crumbled under the weight of her release, sobbing and bucking into his mouth.
The only thing that held her upright was his nails biting into the thin skin on her hips. Fractured light and sound pulsed through her muddled senses, swirling in a white blaze.
“Njáll,” she cried, her legs giving out under her.
As her knees buckled, his massive arm caught her, holding her steady against the tide consuming her.
When the last of her tremors subsided, Njáll pulled back enough to reveal his wet beard and possessive eyes glinting like they would after a successful siege.
Teeth grazed over her thighs, leaving fire in their wake. Norse praises muttered into the flushed skin. She barely caught her breath, her senses still scattered as he scooped her into his arms.
Too gone to overthink, Elara tangled her limbs around him as he carried her the short distance to the bed of furs. The scent of them washed over her, the thick furs cradling her back.
Shadows crawled over his torso as he hovered above her, his cock ruddy and swollen.
Her confidence from earlier waned, trapped under his hauntingly gorgeous and intimidating gaze. Knuckles skimmed her jaw, the touch almost too gentle for a warrior like him. Those fingers tucked damp, wayward curls behind her ear before cupping her chin.
“I want to die between your thighs. So stunning when you fall apart for me,” he growled, and she whimpered.
Leaning in, his lips met hers, tentative at first. She sighed, and he took the opening to deepen the kiss, swallowing her muffled noises as she rocked her hips, needing more—needing him.