Chapter 32
Thirty-Two
Njáll
The dust and grime from his travels clung to his skin. All the aches in his limbs vanished when Elara’s glittering green eyes twinkled at him from under her fiery mane.
Her perfect pink nipples tightened, a flush coloring the swells of her breasts.
The flames from the fire made her glow like a goddess. One he longed to worship. She sat up, her knees spreading across the furs, her nails dimpling the creamy expanse of her bare thighs.
Blood rushed south, Njáll’s cock harder than steel in his trews.
The vision of his pretty kona flushed with desire and waiting for him chased away his burdens, his troubled thoughts, replacing them with her passion, her power, her love.
Even if she didn’t understand what it was yet.
Njáll knew. Had always known.
Even as he tried to ignore it, pretending it was witchcraft that brought them together when it was so much more.
Her mouth twitched, the tip of her tongue tracing over her lower lip. A throaty groan mixed with a growl in his chest, his fingers deftly loosening the threads at his waist.
A dangerously sweet voice lured him in, the sound too enticing to ignore.
“Are you just going to stand there, Jarl, or are you going to join me in our furs and tend to your kona?”
Something primitive took control, and Njáll tore the wool trews from his thick thighs, tossing the tattered material aside. His little flame’s eyes went impossibly large as a breathless sound made her breasts bounce.
He crossed the room in three long strides, yanking the furs from the bed.
Gods, she was the most stunning creature to ever walk the earth. And she was his.
A thin sheen of sweat glistened on her skin, inviting him to drink from her.
“You are mine,” he growled, gathering the hair at her nape and tugging softly until their panting breaths mingled in the small space between their mouths. “Say it.”
The glacial command slid off his tongue, her musky arousal making his nostrils flare. Dull claws dug into his forearms as she scratched at the muscled skin.
“I’m yours, Jarl.”
Njáll burrowed both hands in her curls, fisting the soft strands as he claimed her mouth. Nothing gentle remained in him, desperate to devour every drop of her until she only remembered him.
Only spoke of him.
Only knew him.
She whined a delightfully needy sound, her wet heat grinding against his cock. Njáll deepened the kiss, licking into her waiting mouth, swallowing the soft sounds of pleasure she treated him with.
Nails scraped along his spine, making blood pool beneath the surface. Tiny arms wrapped around his neck and she tugged him closer, matching his fierce intensity with each buck of her hips.
Her tongue tangled with his, neither of them willing to submit to the other.
Each drank from the other like a warrior who had been stranded in the wilds. His fingers moved between them, finding her clit, circling it softly.
Teeth nipped at his lips as her eyes rolled back. Flush highlighted the scattered freckles on her collarbone, and Njáll lavished a series of searing kisses over her jaw and down to her breasts.
The tip of his tongue flicked at her nipple, a finger slipping into her fluttering sex.
A whimper pierced the sound of their strangled breaths, her back arching off the bed and her nails digging into it, clawing helplessly for something to ground her.
Her cunt squeezed him, fluttering so prettily, clenching so desperately. He was close to spilling his seed like a young boy.
“That. More… More of that. Please,” she rasped, her broken pleas unraveling his already crumbling restraint.
Heat swam in his belly, making his balls rise higher, tightening and desperate for release. Her walls clenched around his finger, taking him deeper with each thrust.
“Greedy, kona,” he purred, teeth grazing the lobe of her ear. “Tell me, do you want my cock to stretch this tight cunt of yours?”
Dampness coated his palm as he brushed the sweaty strands of hair from her brow.
Those eyes glared with defiance, frustration, and fury. All of it leveled at him. It made his heart swell and his cock ache.
“Yes,” she hissed, the growling command more adorable than threatening.
“Good girl,” he cooed, fisting himself and groaning at the minuscule relief that followed his strokes.
Small fingers traced the rigid lines of his abdomen as he settled between her spread thighs, her cunt glistening with her arousal. She clenched his hips, trying and failing to pull him closer.
He teased her entrance with his tip, punishing himself more than her.
“Njáll. Would you dishonor Freyja this way? By torturing me?”
A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest, her lip damp on his finger as he feathered his thumb across it soothingly.
“If only to heighten your pleasure, little flame,” he hummed, fusing his lips to hers in a bruising kiss that made stars explode behind his eyes.
Finally, he sank into her, putting them out of their shared misery. Her tight heat instantly molded to him, wet and clenching and perfect.
Njáll snarled, tossing his head back as his throat bobbed.
A series of muttered Norse curses escaped him, each one more ragged than the last. Once fully seated inside her, he stilled, their desperation settling, replaced by a slow, simmering pleasure.
He braced his forearms on either side of her head, pulling his hips back before snapping into her in a brutal, punishing thrust that made her body jolt.
The blood in his body burned.
Burned for her. Burned for them.
He set a slow, deliberate pace, focused entirely on her pleasure.
Skin bounced under his fingers as he traced the elegant curves of her torso. A low moan of pure appreciation purred from her, the sound the most melodic thing he’d ever heard.
Sharp breaths stung his chest, his cock thickening with need. He pushed his own wants aside, determined to feel her shatter around him.
On the next snap of his body, she turned desperate, bucking her hips into his, meeting him thrust for thrust.
Her walls fluttered around him, clenching and grasping, her eyes glazed and her body rigid.
“That’s it,” he cooed, caressing the hinge of her jaw. “Doing so well. Let go, kona. Strangle my cock with that pretty cunt.”
A keening wail tore from somewhere deep within her, her entire body convulsing as her climax ripped from some forgotten part of her.
Njáll growled, refusing to spill his seed while she rode out her release.
His fingers dimpled her skin, leaving bruises on her hips that would mark her as his for days.
After what felt like an eternity, her body softened, going lax beneath him. Njáll slid out of her heat, smirking at the frustrated lines framing her lips.
“Don’t…” she started, the sound cut off.
Gripping her hips, he rolled them, positioning her knees on either side of his hips. His knuckles dusted under chin, guiding her gaze to his. He wanted her to see what she did to him.
“Look at me,” he ordered, his voice thick with unspent desire. “I am also yours, kona. Your passion is branded on my soul. It burns only for you.”
Need leaked from him, sticking to his stomach as her slit settled over his length. Tentatively, she rocked her hips and he resisted the urge to sink into her.
His palm connected with her ass and she hissed, glowering at him with fire blazing in her lust-darkened eyes. His voice dropped into a seductive challenge.
“Ride me.”
The command echoed in the room, her chest rising with each stuttered breath.
She sucked in her lower lip, abusing the flesh as she smirked.
Tiny fingers encircled him, positioning him against her slit.
In one blinding motion, Elara sank down on his cock, taking him to the hilt.
Black dots speckled his vision, his bruising grip on her hips, urging her to move.
She swayed softly at first, grinding her needy little clit on his pubic bone.
Then, almost shyly, she started to bounce, an uncertainty clouding her eyes that he didn’t like.
His hands drifted higher, splaying over the span of her ribs as his thumbs brushed over the underside of her breasts.
“Break me like a wild stallion, little flame. Mark me as yours.”
“Mine. Njáll. All mine,” she sobbed, the claim broken and beautiful.
“Yours, Elara. Only yours.”
Soft hands spread over the hard planes of his chest, supporting herself as she moved in earnest.
Soon, she found a rhythm, her head falling back as her hair fanned behind her like a fiery crown.
The blaze in her core ignited, each thrust more demanding than the last.
Eventually she gave in, letting a primal part of her take control as she rode him with the wild, untamed fervor he admired.
Njáll covered her hands with his own, encouraging her movements.
“That’s it. Look at you. My mighty, spirited kona. So pretty. So powerful.”
“Close. Close. Close,” she chanted over and over again.
Beads of sweat traced the soft curve of her body, trickling down her supple skin.
Needy whines caught in her throat as she teetered on the edge, her core clamping around him tighter with each motion she made.
His hands moved back to her hips, helping regulate her rhythm, acting as the beacon to her building storm.
Tension coiled in his abdomen, his sack rising into his stomach. He wanted to release his seed as she screamed his name to the gods, binding them together.
“Don’t hold back, Elara,” he grunted, his control on the brink of snapping. “Consume me, my flame. Use me for your pleasure.”
After two more strokes of her hips, she screamed, the sound echoing off the wood panels and disappearing into the cold night. Her entire body trembled, succumbing to the weight of her climax.
Soon, a series of violent spasms seared through him, wrenching a guttural roar from Njáll.
Ropes of hot seed spilled from his tip, filling Elara with all of him as her pleasure rippled beneath the surface.
As the final dredges of their release melted from their limbs, they collapsed. Elara’s body slumped on top of him, their slick limbs tangling together. The world settled into a blessed, quiet stillness.
The backs of his knuckles caressed the column of her spine; his lips fused to the top of her head.
“I missed you,” she murmured, the words muffled as she kissed his chest, clinging to him as though she were afraid he’d evaporate.
“And I you,” he said, kissing her curls. “I’m here now. It’s late. Sleep in my arms, kona.”
Apparently, his words were the push she needed.
Within minutes, her breathing softened, and her limbs loosened. Peaceful sleep graced her lax features and it made an overwhelming wave of adoration pour into him.
For many seasons, Njáll had witnessed the burden his father carried.
It was one Njáll would one day shoulder. Looking at the beautiful, brave woman in his arms, he knew with absolute certainty he would not only survive the toll of leading, he would thrive.
They would.
Together.
She was not merely a gift from Freyja. She was his destiny.
The one constant source of light would guide him through any darkness he faced.