Fifteen
Princess Emeline
T hese ropes burn my wrists, but I won’t stop trying to break them until I am free.
The two guards who captured me sit feet away, hacking into the hare they killed. They’ve not offered me any, knowing I would spit it in their faces as I would rather starve to death than be returned to King Egbert.
I can’t believe I was apprehended. How did they know where to find me? And why did they leave without leaving a massacre of Northmen behind? It makes no sense.
I have no idea where we are because after I bit one of the guard’s noses almost clean off and tried to flee, they forced me to move. When I fought, I was knocked out cold.
I woke a few minutes ago, tied to this large tree.
The men are cruel bastards. One, in particular, watches me like I am prey.
“We will take turns to watch her,” says the man whose nose I bit, nasally. “Seeing as I almost lost my nose to that bitch, I retire first.”
I smirk happily in response.
The other man—whose name is Arthur, I believe—nods, which wipes my smirk clean. Freeing myself from these ropes becomes all the more imperative.
The guard leaves us, setting himself down under a tree far away, which leaves me alone with this vile creature. He tears into the flesh of the hare, never taking his eyes off me. Or rather, never taking his eyes off my chest.
He is just another man who thinks he can control me just because of the prick he wields between his legs. But he has no idea what men I’ve been up against.
“I can see why King Egbert has torn his kingdom apart to find you,” he says, licking his fingers clean.
The fire is the only light we have as the moon has gone into hiding. I wish I could too. But when Arthur stands, I know that’s not an option.
I need to think fast because this man will take what he wants. It’s what all men, but Skarth, want from me.
Just the thought of him has me struggling against the rope at my wrists, determined to break free.
“The queen is the only one who isn’t distressed by your absence,” he reveals, which turns my blood as I suddenly realize he has no intention of returning me to the king.
“Queen Redburh paid you to kill me?” I question even though I know the answer.
“Yes, Princess, but not before I delivered a message.”
“And what message is that?” My throat dips as I swallow nervously.
“To fuck you how you fucked her husband.”
Tears sting my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall.
I never chose this life. I never chose to be the king’s mistress. But Queen Redburh doesn’t care as she sees her husband’s infidelity as my fault. And now, I will pay with not only my life but my dignity as well.
“Don’t worry, Princess,” he says, walking toward me with a grin. “You can scream all you want. No one will hear you. There isn’t a soul for miles.”
I desperately tug at the ropes, but they won’t budge.
Arthur thrives on my dread and snickers as he lifts his chain mail vest and undoes his trousers. When his disgusting cock slithers free, bile rises because it looks like a curled-up sausage. He expects fear, so I give him the complete opposite.
I laugh. Loudly.
Arthur pauses, watching me like I’ve gone mad, which makes me laugh even louder. “I’m sorry,” I say, trying to catch my breath. “But that’s the smallest cock I have ever seen. I understand it is cold—”
He rushes forward, clutching my throat in his cupped palm. “This cock is going to destroy you.”
“I doubt that.”
He squeezes harder, and I hope he will just do what Queen Redburh ordered and kill me right now. I would rather that than feel his body pressed to mine.
I gasp, on the cusp of passing out, but he lets go, chuckling, and I know why that is when he grips the back of my head and jerks me toward his crotch. I frantically fight, but he holds me tight, and I’m bound to this tree, so it’s futile.
He pries my mouth open with his fingers, and before I can bite down, he shoves his cock down my throat.
Instantly, I gag, and tears leak from my eyes as I fear I’m about to choke. A sated moan leaves him when I taste his salty member pulsating against my tongue.
My first instinct is to bite it off, but he still has a hold of my jaw and works it up and down crudely. He moves my head back and forth, and before long, all I am is his puppet to do with what he pleases.
He rams his cock in and out of my mouth, groaning each time he hits the back of my throat. “What do you think of this small cock now?” he taunts, punishing me brutally as he forces me to take him deeper.
Spittle dribbles from the corners of my mouth because I can’t swallow, but it just provides Arthur with the lubrication he needs to glide in and out with ease.
Glaring at him, I promise myself he won’t get away with this. There is only one way I’m going to escape this, so I relax my throat and stop fighting. I allow this man to violate my mouth because the moment he relaxes his grip…I’m going to gnaw off his cock.
He grunts and thrusts while I think of all the ways I am going to make those who hurt me pay. I detach myself from this assault because it won’t break me. I’ve lived through worse, and it’s because of them that the moment Arthur’s grip slackens and I can move my jaw, I bite down so hard, I almost shatter my teeth.
A strangled gasp leaves him before the realization of what I’ve just done hits hard.
He pushes my forehead, desperate for me to let go as he tries to pull back out, but he was so eager to stick this disgusting slug into my mouth, no way am I letting go.
“Plea—” his cries for help die in a wet gurgle when I savagely shake my head from side to side, like a dog and her bone. I taste blood…and fear.
Gnawing harder, I hack through flesh and muscle, and when hot, sticky blood squirts down my throat, I know I’ve won.
With a strangulated cry, Arthur drops to his knees, but not with his cock, for that is in my mouth. I spit it out, it bouncing off the center of his forehead and tumbling to the ground. Where his cock once was is now a gaping, bloody wound.
“You whore!” he wheezes, and with the last shred of strength he possesses, he reaches for his sword, prepared to take my life in exchange for me biting off his cock.
I brace for death, but it never comes as I feel him before I see him, but when I do lay eyes on him, I sag in relief because I do not wish to meet my God drenched in blood.
Skarth runs for us but stops when he sees Arthur on his knees, bleeding profusely from the crotch. When he sees the curled-up sausage that once belonged to Arthur feet away, he bursts into husky laughter.
“Is that all of it?”
“Help me,” Arthur pleads, his sword falling from his hand.
“All right, my lord. Let me help you.” I watch in exhilaration as he picks Arthur up by the throat before driving his sword straight through his belly.
He hangs off the end, gasping for air.
“I will help you into the place you call hell.”
He uses his foot to pry Arthur off the end of his sword, who collapses to the ground with a hollowed thump.
My mouth is agape, blood and spittle running down my chin, but I can neither speak nor move because Skarth found me. He’s here. He didn’t abandon me.
His chest rises and falls quickly, a sign of his excitement over what just unfolded. The pulsating energy befalls us once again because bloodshed seems to titillate us both.
He silently walks over to where I am and walks behind me. I feel the sharp sting of his bloody blade as he cuts through the rope at my wrists with precision.
With a sigh, I shake out my hands.
“The other one?” he asks, and I gesture with my head toward where the other guard is. He knew there were two as he tracked me down, no doubt.
Skarth nods and mutes his footsteps, disappearing into the dark.
I come to a shaky stand, wiping the blood off my chin with the back of my hand. I strain my eyes to see in the dark, but when I hear a throttled gasp, I know the guard is dead. Skarth returns moments later, his sword covered in blood.
We look at one another, neither appearing to know what to say.
I’m shocked he’s here. I thought he didn’t care. Unless…he’s here because he doesn’t go back on his word. He made a deal with Ulf, and he plans on seeing it through.
“We cannot stay here,” he says. “We need to be as far away from here as possible.”
As I nod, a shiver overtakes me when I realize what I just did. But as always, Skarth reads my thoughts.
“You did not kill anyone, Princess. You merely bit off his pathetic excuse of a cock.” This conversation would be comical if not for the fact I was force-fed that cock. “Are you all right?” he asks, gripping the handle of his sword.
“Fine. I just want to go.”
He appears to want to say something but changes his mind at the last minute. “My horse is this way.”
I follow as he leads me away from what would have served as my resting place if not for Skarth. I’m confused by his chivalrous behavior, so I remain silent as we walk through the forest. He mounts his horse and offers me his hand.
A fire begins to burn within, but I ignore it and slip my hand into his. Once settled behind him, I wrap my arms around his broad back and hold on tight as we gallop into the night.
Being with Skarth this way, under the stars, just us, feels right. It feels like home. Regardless of what happened, I feel comforted being pressed this closely to him.
The smooth stride of the horse and the warmth of Skarth’s body have my eyes drooping shut. Soon, I slip into a comfortable lull and press my cheek into Skarth’s back. His earthy scent sings to my soul, and all I want to do is bask in it and never return.
We ride for what feels like hours, and I wonder if we’re going back to the village.
I am embarrassed he had to ride out to save me. I can’t seem to stop getting into trouble, no matter how hard I try.
A flowing stream up ahead catches the twinkling of stars, and the thought of washing Arthur from my mouth has me gently tugging on Skarth’s vest.
“May we stop here?”
Skarth clucks his tongue and gently tugs the reins. His horse slows down.
Once he stops, I jump down and make haste toward the water. Dropping to my knees, I cup it into my hands and take long mouthfuls. The moment it hits my throat, I think of Arthur’s length slipping in and out of my mouth, and instantly, I gag.
Unable to stop myself, I dry retch, wishing to expel his taste, his memory, from me, but nothing comes up. Tears leak from my eyes, and I know it’s merely a psychological response to what happened. But I suddenly can’t stop shaking.
I am sick of men taking from me. When will it stop?
I measure my shaky breaths to stop the hysteria from overcoming me.
“Do you wish to bathe?”
Skarth’s smooth voice calms me, and I nod. “I would.”
“Take your time, Princess. I will wait for you by the horse.”
I don’t turn around, but the rustling of downy grass alerts me to his departure.
Coming to a stand, I slip off my clothes and slowly enter the stream. The water is glacial, but I barely notice the cold once I begin to wash Arthur from my flesh. I bob up and down, wetting my hair and enjoying the feeling of being reborn as the filth is washed away.
I peer into the heavens, still wondering if the Lord will present me with a sign. I’ve asked for many throughout my life, but I still don’t know why He made me disobedient. It would have been easier if I weren’t.
But out here in the darkness, out of the palace walls and away from reign and duty, I know that this was who I was always meant to be. I was never meant to serve another. I cannot submit to rule, for I want to lead, not follow.
I’m not sure what my future holds, but I will die fighting for my freedom. Of that, I’m sure.
The cool wind picks up speed, and I decide to get out before I catch a chill. Wet and completely naked, I peer down at the clothes I once wore. Putting them back on sickens me, especially as they are stained with Arthur’s blood.
Peering into the darkness where I know Skarth stands, I gather the garments into my hands and use them to cover my nakedness as I walk toward him. My front is covered, but my back isn’t. However, I’m not bashful, for I was standing naked with Skarth a few nights ago when he did more than just look upon my bare form.
The moment we lock eyes, he appears confused as to why I’m not dressed.
“I did not wish to wear clothes that were soiled,” I explain.
He doesn’t say a word as he removes the animal fur cloak he wears and steps forward. I hold my breath as he wraps it around my shoulders. It’s large enough to cover my entire front and stops below my knees.
“Thank you,” I whisper, peering up at him.
He removes the clothes from my hands without a word.
Being swathed in his clothes and engulfed in his smell has me swaying on my feet as I am suddenly exhausted.
“There is a cave up ahead. We can rest for the night.”
Nodding, I follow as he leads me through the dense forest.
I know we can’t stay for long, but under the cloak of darkness, I can’t help but feel safe. Come dawn, it will change, but I’m thankful for a place to lay my head for a few hours.
The cave is small, and I suddenly am aware that I’ll be sharing this small space with a very large Northman.
“I will fetch some wood for a fire. Are you hungry?”
I shake my head.
“I will not be long. I will water my horse and be back very soon.”
It’s unlike him to talk so much.
“Here.” He slips off his leather vest, exposing his blue tunic beneath. When he reaches overhead and removes it, I almost forget to breathe.
He stands before me, chest bare, and all I can do is marvel at the beauty that is Skarth the Godless. His body is that of a warrior; muscled yet slender, which enables me to appreciate the swell of his abdominals.
The light dusting of hair on his chest and arms only adds to his manliness. I like it.
He is covered in scars, and his traditional ink highlights his rocky planes.
His long hair is tied back, but the shaved sides only draw attention to his full pink lips and those piercing blue eyes.
I know I’m staring, but he takes my breath away.
“You can lie on this,” he says, revealing why he took his tunic off.
In this small space, his scent is amplified, and I bite the inside of my cheek to smother my moan.
“Thank you.” I accept and turn my back before I do and say something I will regret.
He exits the cave, leaving me to deal with my racing heart and heaving chest.
I need to remember I was angry with him. I can’t allow my obsession with him to cloud my judgment because he was in the arms of two other women to spite me.
With that as the motivation I need, I lay his tunic on the ground and arrange it so I can lie down comfortably. The moment I’m engulfed in his comforting smell, my eyes droop shut.
I vaguely hear Skarth enter some time later, but I’m too comfortable to move. The roar of the fire thaws the chill from my bones, and I let out a contented sigh. When I hear Skarth setting something down by the fire, I slowly open my eyes.
He is arranging my clothes on a rocky ledge. “I washed your things. They’ll be dry come morning.”
“Thank you,” I sleepily say. If I was thinking properly, it’s what I would have done. But the past few…years have been taxing.
“I am certain you’ll want your clothes back,” I tease, snuggling into them with no intention of ever returning them.
When he clenches his jaw, I wonder what I said to offend him. “Yes, that would be best.”
Suddenly, my fatigue is replaced with annoyance, and I shoot up, enraged. “If you are going to be so sullen, then here, take your clothes!”
I’m about to take off the shawl, but he thrusts his arm out over the fire, seizing my wrist. He is barely in control. “Do not.”
“Do not what?” I spit at him. “I thought you wanted your precious clothes. Take them!”
“I said don’t,” he warns, his low tone menacing. “Why do you not listen?”
“Why do you not leave me be?” I counter angrily. “You clearly can’t bear to be near me. Or your clothes, for that matter.”
When his gaze drops to my chest, I realize by thrashing about, the cloak has slipped down, revealing the tops of my breasts.
“Please cover yourself,” he snarls, turning his cheek, which merely infuriates me further.
“My nakedness offends you? You did not seem to have that problem when you were fucking two women!”
I want him to know I am aware of his capers.
“Don’t use such vulgar language.”
“Now my language offends you?” I mock. “Mayhap it’s best I sleep outside in case my breathing will disturb your peace.”
I attempt to stand, but he thrusts me back down. “Sit.”
“You have no right to tell me what to do!”
“I have every right. For if it were not for you, I would not be here. I would be with my wife instead of a spoiled child.”
He knows this insult hurts, and I glare at him over the fire.
I don’t have anything to say because he’s right. He’s here because of me. But I never asked him to.
“You speak with jealousy, Princess. Do you wish it was you I was fucking? You believe a little girl like you can compare to two women? You amuse me,” he taunts with an arrogant smirk.
Now he merely wishes to hurt me.
Yanking my wrist free, I don’t reply, but that doesn’t mean this argument is finished.
Settling onto the ground, I turn my back and wait, just like this bastard taught me to do.
I fake sleep, but I am wide awake and ready to attack once the moment is right.
I’ve listened to Skarth’s breathing, and it’s become shallow. It’s been this way for a while. I must strike now because there is no way I’m spending another moment alone with this brute.
Coming to my feet silently, I never take my eyes off him as I reach for my clothes. They’re still damp, but I’m not waiting for them to dry. With my heart in my throat, I commence a slow, quiet backward walk toward the cave’s exit.
Skarth doesn’t stir. He looks so peaceful. But I know better, for this rotten bastard is the devil himself.
I use my hands as guidance, touching the rocky walls as I creep toward freedom. The cool air on my back alerts me that I’m almost there, but when I stand on a rock, and it rolls along the ground, I freeze, eyes wide.
I expect him to wake, to punish me for intending to leave him here.
But he doesn’t.
He sighs before his shallow breathing continues.
Holding my breath, I continue my escape, and when my feet step onto the grass, I almost cry out in relief. But I don’t have time for that. Now, I must run.
Spinning, I run as though my life depends on it, ignoring the rough terrain digging into my bare feet as I make my way down the hill to where Skarth’s horse is tied to a tree.
I am still naked beneath the cloak, but I will dress later.
My fingers fumble as I desperately try to untie the rope. I’ve done this a thousand times before, but I can’t get it undone. I need to calm down.
Taking a deep breath, I focus on the rope and my fingers, and instantly, the rope comes undone. I will celebrate later when I am away from the man who continues to break my heart because I let him.
Tossing my clothes onto the horse, I mount him—freedom awaits.
Or so I thought.
Before I can fight, warm arms wrap around my middle and drag me to the ground, where I fall face-first onto my stomach. A heavy weight presses into my back.
“Let me go!”
But I’m not going anywhere.
“You were going to leave without saying goodbye?” Skarth quips into my ear as he seizes my arms and yanks them above my head to stop me from flailing. “I am wounded, Princess.”
“Good. It was my intention to hurt you in every possible way.”
He laughs in response, and my heart leaps at the sound.
His chest is pressed to my back, and I’m not going anywhere unless I lie, cheat, and steal. “Please, get o-off. I cannot b-breathe.”
When he doesn’t budge, I grow lithe and cry staged tears. “Why do you wish to hurt me? What did I ever do to you?”
After a pregnant pause, his hold on me relaxes, which is the opportunity I need to buck him off and scamper away on hands and knees. The leaves beneath give me no purchase, and as I slip and slide, Skarth viciously flips me onto my back.
Before he can seize my hands, I slap his cheek—hard. “How dare you! I hate you!”
“Good,” he snarls, moving his jaw from side to side.
But there is no way I’m surrendering, so I do as he taught me and draw up my knee, connecting with his plums.
His eyes grow wide, and he rolls off me, gasping for breath.
The sound should please me, but it doesn’t. However, it’s now or never, and I rise to my feet, desperate to flee. Just as I take a step, Skarth grips the cloak, seizing me in my tracks. Without thought, I shrug free from it and am suddenly very naked.
With cloak in hand, still catching his breath, he realizes it too, and instead of running away, I’m held prisoner to the spot by his heated gaze as he examines me from head to toe.
This is the first time he’s seen me bare. Although we were stripped once before, the water concealed our nakedness, but now, nothing separates us.
Rising to full height, he doesn’t offer the cloak. And I don’t conceal my body from his animated eyes.
“Are you going to ride away from here, naked, for all to see?”
“I will do anything to get away from you,” I reply, but it’s weak.
“Go then,” he says, his entire being making me grow weak at the knees. “I offer you this one chance, but you better not fail because if I catch you…I shall never let you go.”
There is a promise behind his words, and it excites me, for I never want him to let me go. He owns me; he always has. But the chase…it excites me more.
Without hesitation, I turn, my heels kicking up the dirt as I run as if my life depends on it, and in some ways, it does.
A husky chuckle leaves Skarth as he will give me a head start, but when I hear him take flight after me, I know I’m going to lose.
I run naked through the forest with the man I love biting at my heels. The wind whips through my hair, and my heart leaps from my chest as I’ve never felt freer—in every sense of the word. I let go of everything and just feel.
“Got you.”
I don’t know who lunges for who first, but Skarth is suddenly on me, like a wild animal capturing its prey. He wraps his arms around my middle, lifting me off the ground as he slams my front into the trunk of a tree.
He’s at my back, kissing the side of my throat as I bend into him, wanting more.
He isn’t gentle, but I don’t want him to be. He bites over my thrashing pulse before licking away the sting with his wicked tongue. I want more, so I arch my neck backward and slam my mouth to his, kissing him with ferocity over my shoulder.
This kiss isn’t chaste or guarded, for this is our first proper kiss. And it wreaks havoc on my very soul, just how I knew it would.
He grips my chin and coaxes me to bend further as he controls the kiss with his fierce domination. His tongue circles mine, groaning when I match his speed. We are untamed and zealous, and when I feel his length press into me from behind, I know the time has come to give in to the inevitable.
It’s what was always destined—no matter how hard we tried to fight it.
Spinning around, I press my bare chest to his. His trouncing heart is in sync with mine. I stand on tippy-toes and kiss him once again.
He fists my hair, angling my mouth for his pleasure as well as mine. The smooth glide of his lips and the flick of his tongue have me whimpering as my center throbs for more.
Breaking apart a mere fraction, I whisper against his lips, “Please…I want you to—”
However, I don’t say the word the Northmen use to describe the intimate act between man and woman as he lost his temper when I used it last.
But he surprises me when he demands, “Say the word.”
“The last time I did, you called me vulgar.”
“I could not stand to hear you say it because I knew I would not be able to control myself around you. Those filthy words passing these sinful lips—” He thumbs my bottom lip, his eyes on fire. “But now, I want you to say it. Tell me what you want me to do to you.”
When I hesitate, he dips a hand between us and fondles my mound. I thought it pleasing when I touched myself, but that pales compared to Skarth’s large hand stroking me intimately. Our gazes are locked, and I open my legs wider, granting him permission to touch me any way he likes.
A gasp leaves me as he caresses my flesh back and forth. I don’t have much hair on my womanhood, so every glide of his fingers is felt all the way to my toes.
He lowers his mouth to my right breast and suckles it ardently. I am consumed, but it’s not enough. So, I seal our fates forevermore.
“I want you to fuck me.”
A hiss vibrates from around my breast, and Skarth lifts his head, eyes locked with mine as he sweeps his tongue around my areola. I’m going to explode.
“All right, Princess,” he says in defeat, giving in to me—finally.
I expect him to throw me onto the ground, but he does nothing of the sort.
He lifts me, coaxing me to wrap my legs around his middle as he walks us uphill. He smashes his mouth to mine, robbing me of breath, but who needs air when Skarth is my life force. We enter the cave, and the warmth from the fire as well as from Skarth’s body have me heating in all the right ways.
He lowers my feet to the floor and severs our kiss.
I miss him instantly, but when he steps back and those blue eyes hungrily rake over my body, I suddenly feel empowered in ways I’ve never felt before.
Bedding a man has never been a pleasant experience for me. I thought that was normal. But as Skarth stands before me, besotted with what he sees, I realize I’ve never experienced pleasure because it was with the wrong men.
I already feel light-headed from Skarth merely looking at me.
“Has anyone ever kissed you there?” he hoarsely asks, and when he points at the junction between my legs, my cheeks turn crimson.
“No.”
“Would you like me to?”
“Yes, very much so,” I whisper, rubbing my thighs together to lessen the burn.
He comes closer, cupping the back of my neck and pressing our foreheads together. This is a moment of promise between us and trust.
He kisses the side of my neck while I bow backward, closing my eyes and losing myself to bliss. When Skarth gently coaxes me to lie down on his tunic, I surrender, pushing my fears aside. He kisses my lips deeply, then he detours to my chin.
I lie back, watching him as he works his way down my body. His broad, muscled back covers my entire form, and although his hands have killed many, they deliver nothing but kindness when they touch me now. I lose myself to his touch, to his lips, and open my legs wider for him to settle between.
He kisses my breasts, taking each one into his mouth and suckling them softly. His tongue laps over my nipples. I think I’m going to perish.
He kisses between the valley of my breasts before spreading kisses down my abdomen. When he twirls his tongue in my navel, I arch my hips, a whimper escaping me.
No one has touched me like this before. I didn’t know pleasure like this existed. But now that I do, I never want it to end.
Skarth’s lips descend lower, his eyes never leaving mine as he kisses above my quivering mound. “You smell like sweetened honey,” he says, and before I can utter a single word, he licks my opening in one long sweep.
“And you taste like it as well.”
My cheeks redden.
He places his mouth over me and commences licking, nibbling, and all I can do is stare at the sight of Skarth the Godless between my legs. He grips my hip and clenches tight as he breaches me with his tongue.
“God have mercy on my soul,” I gasp, arching my back.
I am lost to his tongue, his mouth, his hands as he uses each one to pleasure me. He buries himself deeper, coaxing me to spread my legs out wider so he can destroy me further. His mouth and tongue work in unison, and I feel like a feast as he eats me wildly.
His beard adds to the heightened sensation, a perfect combination of pleasure and pain as he moves his face from side to side. He gorges himself, his tongue flicking over the swollen part of me he called my sweetness.
The familiar coil in my belly begins to wind tighter, but I don’t give in. Not yet.
Gripping his long hair, I use it as reins as I need something to hold. The noises coming from him are pure carnality and reverberate throughout me. He encourages me to arch my hips, and when I do, he comes up on his hands and devours me madly.
I cradle the top of his head, pushing him deeper into me as I shamelessly thrust my hips into his face. He inserts two fingers alongside his tongue, cramming me full. Before long, I am riding his face, bucking and holding him prisoner.
But he doesn’t seem to mind.
He sucks over my mound, creating a pressure that steals the air from my lungs. I am lost to him and grow lax as he devours me like I’m his last meal. He moves his face from side to side, and when he bites over my ripened bud, I lock eyes with him, pleading he ends this ache within.
He tosses my leg over his shoulder, opening me up wider, and when he sucks my center while flicking his tongue deeply inside me, I release the building pressure and explode with a guttural scream.
I’m certain I’m about to die because my heart and body are convulsing uncontrollably, but when Skarth tenderly caresses my quivering stomach, I focus on his touch and the way his mouth never leaves my throbbing flesh.
Tears escape from the corners of my eyes, but they are tears of joy. I ride this wave of pleasure with Skarth, and when he kisses over the lips of my womanhood, I collapse in a heap, breathless and consumed.
He crawls up my body, leaving kisses in his path, and when he reaches my mouth, he kisses me deeply. I can taste myself on him. I should shy away, but I don’t. I deepen the kiss, relishing that my scent is slathered all over him.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice hoarse. “I never imagined it could feel that way.”
“We’ve only just begun.” And with that promise, I watch as he sits back on his heels and commences to remove his trousers.
When he lowers them and his manhood springs free, I swallow because I knew he was well-endowed, but he is considerably larger in the flesh. I take in the length and the girth, and suddenly, I am doubtful he will fit.
A light dusting of hair shelters the base, and when I admire his muscles which are shaped into a V, I see where the hair from his navel leads to. It has my mouth watering.
Once he is naked, he lowers himself back down onto me, kissing me savagely. I thread my fingers through his hair, loving the way it encloses us into our own private kingdom.
With our lips still entwined, he walks his hand between us, and when he inserts two fingers into me, my eyes widen.
“Shh, Princess,” he coos, working his fingers in and out, in and out. “Trust me.”
I’ve not had this before. When a man was ready, he would ram his manhood into me, not fingers, but as I do as Skarth says, I feel my muscles relaxing as I begin to grow wet between the legs.
“There you go.”
I don’t know what he means, but his approval only has me becoming wetter.
His necklace hangs low. I reach up, fingering the swinging silver relic. “What is this?”
“It’s a Mjolnir ,” he explains, never breaking eye contact or touch.
“What does it mean?”
“It is the weapon of my god, Thor,” he explains, and his smooth voice merely stokes the fire burning within me.
“What does your god do?” I ask, bending to his touches as I rock my hips.
“Thor is the god of thunder. The protector of all the gods. The Mjolnir is a symbol of power and protection because it controls the power of lightning.”
The more he speaks, the further I lose myself to him, to this moment in time.
“He sounds like a very worthy god.”
He smirks, and I know it pleases him to hear me speak of one of his gods this way.
He removes his fingers, only to align his manhood at my entrance. I’m suddenly nervous and seize up. But Skarth kisses my lips.
“The Mjolnir is so powerful; it cannot be lifted by anyone who is not worthy.”
His smooth voice thaws out my worries.
“It’s our symbol for safety and protection,” he continues, never taking his lips off me as he kisses my mouth, my cheeks.
Instantly, I relax, lost to his voice, detailing a tale that makes Skarth who he is. “Well, you are my Mjolnir then. You are my safety. And you are my protection.”
His eyes soften before a look of possession overtakes him. “And you are my hugrekki .”
The moment he says that word, I open up to him as it reminds me of how far we’ve come.
“Always”—he gently nudges into me while I open my mouth, breathless at the delicious intrusion—“and forever.”
He slowly enters me, and the farther he sinks, the more lost I am. The connection brings tears to my eyes.
Skarth pauses, a look of worry plaguing him. “Have I hurt you?”
Shaking my head, I reach up and cup his cheek. “No, these tears are ones of joy. I have wanted this for so long.”
“Me too,” he confesses and steals my breath when he thrusts his hips, burying himself to the hilt.
He doesn’t move; I dare not breathe as I need a moment to compose myself and allow my muscles time to adjust to his size. The corded veins in his neck have me fearful he’s in pain.
“Can I move?”
I nod, welcoming him to take what has always been his.
A low hum passes his lips as he commences to sink in and out of me, stretching me wide. At first, it burns, and I am fearful that I am ruined, for there is no pleasure felt. But when Skarth bends and takes my nipple into his mouth, the pain is soon replaced with pleasure.
His strokes are slow at first, and I think this is done for my benefit. I don’t know what to do with my hands as I was told by others to keep them by my sides. But when Skarth intertwines our fingers and coaxes me to wrap a hand around his nape, I realize I may as well be untouched because this act of passion and love is one I’ve never experienced before.
He grips my hips while I grasp his nape. We anchor to the other, intent on never letting go.
The rhythm of his strokes begins to grow faster, harder, and the slamming of our flesh is coupled with our raspy breaths. I love being under him as he sinks into me without restraint. I love that I am the one responsible for him losing control.
“Harder,” I whimper because I want more.
With a slanted grin, he gives in to my demands and pulls out before slamming back into me so hard I shift upward from the force.
He kisses me brutally, cupping my chin to dominate me all over. This is the one time I surrender without complaint. His manhood feels like taut fire stabbing me deeply, and I open my legs wider, wanting more. I have no control over my body and am his loyal subject to do with what he pleases, for Skarth the Godless is my god.
The animalistic noises spilling from his parted lips stoke my passion, and that rumble of excitement swells. He drives his hips wildly, for Skarth fucks as he fights—brutally and with passion. He was made for both.
I run my fingers down his back, marveling at the warmth of his skin and the stretch of his muscles. Just touching him has me whimpering in need.
Staring up at him as he sinks into me over and over, I brush the hair from his cheek, wishing to look into his eyes as I experience a sensation that takes me to another world.
“These eyes are ones I have lo—”
But he doesn’t let me finish as he seals his mouth over mine.
“Don’t,” he gently says.
I don’t have time to question why because he suddenly changes position. He gets onto his knees while coaxing me to lift my legs upward to my chest. I cry out because he continues driving into me, and at this angle, it hits me hard.
He cups my outer thighs and leans over me to lift my hips and meet him stroke for stroke.
“Put your feet up against my chest,” he says, and I do.
I feel like I am being bent in half as Skarth batters into me. This position still allows me to look into his eyes, but the angle, the penetration, is so much deeper, and I cry out when Skarth rocks me against his straining length.
“Feel good, hugrekki ?”
Biting my lip, I nod quickly as I can’t speak.
I grip Skarth’s hips, holding on tightly as he brutalizes me in ways I enjoy.
“Do you want a release?”
“A release? I do not—” My words die in my throat as Skarth begins to play with my swollen bud.
My sensitive flesh begs for a reprieve as I’m not accustomed to this act lasting this long. It’s usually a few pathetic thrusts, and then I am discarded. Never have I been asked what I wanted nor have I been given pleasure this way.
I am saddened for this to end, as I wish for it to never stop, but when Skarth sinks into me so deeply, I gasp for air, and I nod.
“Yes…please.”
“I like it when you beg me, Princess.”
His cool arrogance, coupled with the way he touches me, has me rocking against him, and when he anchors my hips, encouraging me to ride him in a way that strokes me at just the right angle, I release—loudly.
He doesn’t stop driving his hips as I scream in bursts of pleasure. I erupt, squeezing my eyes shut as I’m certain I’m moments from death as my heart thumps uncontrollably and a tremor racks my body. I chase the decadence, and when I fall, I gasp in mouthfuls of air.
Words spill from Skarth, words I don’t understand, but they appear to be filled with his pleasure too.
I open my eyes and peer at our connection, surprised to see that Skarth is still hard.
“Have I done something wrong?” I ask, my fears exposed.
“You did not believe we were done, did you?”
“I—”
His smirk destroys me as he grips my legs and tosses them over each of his broad shoulders. He seizes my thighs and holds me tightly, thrusting into me brutally. I’m convinced he is a sorcerer, for how does he maneuver these positions with such skill?
He watches my swaying breasts with hunger, the way they bounce with the force of his strokes. He groans when his eyes fixate on his manhood and how it sinks in and out of me. I like the way he looks at me, for he is just as captivated as I am.
I want him to find his release too, so I clench my muscles around his length.
“ Faen ,” he hisses, throwing his head back.
I do it again as it pleases me to hear him cry out in pleasure.
He pumps his hips, slamming into me, and I move with him, bending and bowing as we are one. As the tempo increases, I lose myself to this feeling and give everything I am to Skarth.
“You were mine from the moment we met,” he says, eyes locked with mine. “I never wanted to be owned…but I belong to you, hugrekki .”
I don’t know what that means for us, but at this moment, I embrace it and lock it away.
“And I belong to you.”
A hiss escapes him, and with two hard, deep thrusts, he tosses his head back and roars. I watch as he shatters before my eyes, exploding because of me.
I feel powerful.
I feel loved.
Skarth collapses, untangling himself from our union. He lays a kiss on my mouth before settling down beside me on his back. We are both breathless, but when I feel a warmth on my belly, I peer down, confused by the white ribbons streaking my skin.
Curious, I run my finger through the sticky substance. I know this is what is needed to be with child, but I’ve never seen it before. It has a bitter taste and made me sick when forced to swallow it before, but I think Skarth’s would be different.
Skarth turns his cheek, watching as I bring my finger to my mouth and run the fluid along my lips. My tongue darts out to taste it. It tastes like Skarth.
“Oh, Princess,” he moans, drawing me into his arms. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
Hugging afterward is something I’ve not experienced before, and instantly, fatigue overcomes me, and I yawn.
“Go to sleep, hugrekki .”
“I am afraid of what happens when I wake.”
“Why?”
Nestling closer into him, I whisper, “I do not know what this means for us, but I never want this feeling to end.”
A sigh leaves Skarth, but he doesn’t reply.
Eventually, I fall asleep in the arms of the man I love, unsure of what tomorrow holds.