12. Chapter 12
Arlo
Darkness obscures all that I can see. A wooden beam pins my hips; the pressure is so intense I can hardly breathe through the pain. Distant voices come from what feels like a whole other world away. The air is thin and I can’t seem to get enough to fill my lungs. Goddess, I can’t breathe.
“Help!” I cry out, then cough on a mouthful of dirt.
My heartbeat thunders in my ears.
The darkness won’t lift. Can anyone even hear my cries?
Did the whole barn come down on me? How long will I be trapped under here?
Tears sting my eyes.
“Please!”
A ray of light momentarily blinds me as the debris shifts above me.
“Lo, I’m here. I’ve got you.”
The crushing pressure across my hips lifts, and I suck in a gasp.
The darkness around me breaks, revealing Gunnar kneeling over me, looking like a rugged, bearded angel.
Hoisting me into his strong, warm arms, he carries me from the barn.
The crisp air burns my lungs with every deep breath.
Birds sing without a care in the world. Against my ear, Gunnar’s heart thumps unsteadily.
I’m safe. Here. With him.
I surrender, nestling my head against his chest, gripping the fabric of his sweater.
“Is he all right?” Mum cries.
If I had the strength, I’d have done everything I could to reassure her.
Gunnar’s chest vibrates, making my heart skip. “I will take care of him.”
“Get him upstairs,” Dad’s voice says. Thank the goddess, it sounds like he’s doing better than I feel. “Mum—”
“I’m on it, dears. You get him situated, Gunnar, and I’ll tend to his wounds,” says Nan.
What about Dad? Wasn’t he injured as well?
“Dad first,” I say, coughing on the dust lingering in my airway.
“I’m fine, Lo. Hurry!”
Everything hurts. I close my eyes, trying to block out the pain.
When I open them, my bedsheets are soft beneath my aching body. Warmth spreads through every limb, soothing the pain. A cool, damp cloth runs over my face.
“Lo?” Gunnar’s deep, low voice has my eyes opening.
He’s sitting beside me, cleaning my face with a washcloth. To my right, Nan has her hands outstretched, golden magic flowing from her fingers and powering the healing ward surrounding me.
“Feeling any better, dear?” Nan asks.
I clear my throat. “Yeah. Lots.”
“Your injuries have healed,” Gunnar says. “You’ll be all right.” There’s a tremor in his voice; it’s almost like he’s reminding himself of that as well.
I get the feeling he’s as shaken up as I am.
“You need to rest and take it easy,” Nan says. “You used a lot of your magic reserves.”
Gunnar’s eyes widen. “What does that mean?”
Lifting a heavy hand, I set it on his knee. “I won’t be able to use magic until I recover.”
“And how can you recover?” The tension in Gunnar’s voice makes me frown. There’s no doubt in my mind that something’s eating at him.
“Nan, can you give us a moment alone?”
“Are you sure? You’re not in any pain?”
I shake my head. “I’m fine. If I need you, I’ll send Gunnar to fetch you.”
“Very well, dear.” With a warm kiss on my forehead, Nan leaves us alone.
Gunnar’s fists are clenched in his lap, lips pressed into a hard line.
“I was the one buried under rubble, but you seem more shaken up than I was. Are you okay?” I touch his thigh, surprised to find how tense the muscles in his leg are, like he’s ready to spring up and run.
“I’m fine, Lo. Do you need anything? Food, water?”
The devastation on his face tells me everything I need to know. “Don’t lie to me. What’s the matter?”
Gunnar’s quiet for a moment, throat bobbing. “Scared me half to death is all,” he says, exhaling harshly. “I should have been faster. I could have reached you in time if—”
I shake my head. “You saved my father. You made the right choice.”
Gunnar lets out a miserable laugh, staring down into his lap. “Losing you would never have been the right choice. I… I could have lost another mate, and I’d have no one but myself to blame again.”
Goddess. The anguish in his voice tears into my heart. “Hold on. First of all, you didn’t make the barn fall on me. So it would have in no way been your fault. Secondly, how can you blame yourself for your mate’s death? Unless you killed them yourself, I don’t understand—”
“Hunters killed my mate and child. I was right there but I was too weak to defend them.” I’ve never heard his voice so empty. His eyes have glazed over while he stares at the wall, as if he’s not really seeing anything. “That makes me just as guilty as the ones who killed them.”
I don’t know what to say. It feels like my heart has fallen somewhere into my stomach.
I thought his mate had only died. That in itself would have been tragic.
But this… Goddess, I feel sick. His mate didn’t die; they were killed.
And his child. I hadn’t even known he had one. They’d killed his child, too?
Oh my goddess.
Suddenly, everything about him makes perfect sense.
Why he’s so closed off emotionally and physically.
Why he’s never moved on. Why he’s so close to going feral.
If I were in his shoes, I don’t even know what I would do.
How is he still alive? How has he found the strength to keep going? I couldn’t.
I try to speak, but no words come out. All I can do is squeeze his knee as I wade through countless emotions trying to suffocate me.
“I am so sorry.” To my horror, tears fill my eyes.
Shoulders slumping, Gunnar closes his eyes.
“It wasn’t—how could that have been your fault?”
“It was,” Gunnar says with such heartbreaking conviction I know I have no hope of shaking this belief out of him. “A man protects his family. What good is he if he can’t even do that? Even now, I couldn’t keep you safe.” Sorrow breaks through the monotony in his voice, making his eyes glassy.
I can’t take this. Scooting closer, I take his chin in my hand and make him look at me. “You did. I’m here, darling. Right here. You saved me, Gunnar.”
Then his lips are on mine, trembling and full of desperation.
All I can do is melt into him, losing myself in the hunger of his kiss.
His big hands are soft as they frame my face, fingers trailing over my cheekbones and down my jawline.
No one has ever kissed me like this. It’s reverent and so tender it makes me ache.
Goddess, I need him.
I tug on his hair, urging him down with me. His weight pins me to the mattress, and his warm, hard body feels so good against mine that I can’t resist rocking against him. He’s half-hard when I grind into him, making him groan into my mouth.
“Lo.” He says my name around a groan that heats my blood. “You’re still recovering. We shouldn’t—”
With a growl, I give his hair a tug, making him look at me. “Don’t you dare treat me like I’m made of glass. And furthermore, I’ll recover much faster if you fuck me.”
Gunnar’s eyes go wide. “Really?”
His flustered expression is charming. “There are benefits to worshipping a goddess of fertility. Sex itself is an act of worship. Freya will be pleased, and I’ll recover my magic much faster.”
The apprehension melts from Gunnar’s face, his eyes darkening. “Oh. Then I guess I had better take you. Here, now. For the goddess.”
A chuckle rolls off my tongue. “For the goddess,” I agree and gasp when he wrenches my jeans and underwear down in one tug. The low growl that rumbles from his chest when he sets his eyes on my leaking cock makes me feel like the perfect prey.
Leaning down, Gunnar runs the flat of his tongue up the length of my cock.
“Fuck.” I whimper, grabbing a handful of his hair.
The corner of his mouth twitches. “Good?”
“No, it’s horrible.”
He snorts, then digs his tongue into my slit.
My hips bow off the mattress as I let out a strangled cry.
Precum pumps from the tip, and Gunnar licks it away, humming at the taste.
I lie perfectly still and let him explore my cock with curious, eager licks.
When he takes me deep into his hot, wet mouth, tongue rubbing the underside of my cock, I want to scream from how good it feels.
I couldn’t have imagined Gunnar, big and brooding Gunnar, would be the one on his hands and knees sucking my cock. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, and he’s going to make me come.
“Gunnar, stop. Goddess, stop.”
He pulls off, eyes wide. “Sorry. I’m sorry. What did I do?”
I cover my mouth so I don’t laugh. It doesn’t work. “Oh, sweetheart. Nothing except almost make me blow my load down your throat.”
Gunnar’s shoulders loosen, a proud smile lifting the corners of his mouth. “Been a while?”
“Shut up.”
“It’s all right. It’s been some time for me, too.”
I toss him a smirk. “Still remember where everything goes, I hope?”
His eyes darken. Licking two fingers, he slides them past my balls and pets the soft skin of my entrance. I bite my lip to keep my composure, but when the tips of those thick fingers slide into me, I fall apart. “Fuck. Yes. Give me more.”
“You sure? I don’t want to hurt you.”
Leaning over, I throw open the top drawer of my bedside table, fingers fumbling for the lube in the very back. I toss it at him. “Put some of that on your fingers.”
Gunnar frowns but obeys, eyes lighting up with understanding. “It’s slick.” He runs his fingers over my entrance, cold and slippery with lube.
“Oh, that’s freezing,” I whine, but I cease to care when he slides his fingers back inside. The pressure and fullness make me bite my lip, eyes rolling back in bliss. “Fuck, darling. That’s so good.”
Gunnar’s lips curl into a smile as he begins to work his fingers in and out of my body. My cock throbs against my stomach, leaking a sticky trail over my skin. Gunnar frowns, angling his fingers, searching. When he finds my prostate, I cry out, then quickly cover my mouth.
A low chuckle rumbles from his chest, but the humor disappears when I start to stroke my cock in time to the thrust of his fingers. Gunnar’s eyes darken. “Gods, you’re beautiful.”
I beckon him closer, and he falls into my arms, consuming my lips with a hunger that leaves me breathless. It’s so much, so perfect, but it’s not enough. “Need you to fuck me,” I say between gasps.
A low growl escapes him, and then he’s sitting up, pulling his shirt off, tugging at his trousers.
His thick cock bobs against his stomach, and though I’ve had a lot of cocks in my life, I can’t help but feel a little intimidated.
He’s certainly the largest man I’ve ever been with.
Good thing I’m more than up for the challenge.
Still, when he looms over me, I can’t help but feel small and vulnerable. Leaning down, Gunnar presses a kiss to my mouth. “Turn over for me,” he says.
Heart thudding in anticipation, I roll onto my stomach and push a pillow under my hips, holding on tight to another.
My breath hitches when the blunt head of his cock bumps against me, then into me.
My mouth goes slack, and I’m incapable of words as he stretches me, filling me so completely I imagine I’ll be feeling him for hours.
Gunnar lets out a choked gasp, gripping my hip hard enough to bruise. “Gods, Lo. You feel so good.” He pulls back, then pushes in, deeper this time.
Gunnar angles his hips, striking my prostate, and I have to bite the pillowcase to muffle the shameless sound that comes out of me. Needing more, I thrust back against him, pleased when he snarls, “Fuck.”
When he starts to pound into me, I fall apart, babbling incoherently for more, faster, harder.
Tightening his grip on my hips, he pulls me onto his cock to meet every thrust. I can’t stay quiet.
I can’t even try. Sex has never felt this amazing.
I thought I knew how good it could be, but I was wrong, and it’s because it’s him.
It’s Gunnar’s low words of encouragement, the kisses he presses between my shoulder blades, the way he growls like an animal when he’s lost all control.
He cares about me and, fuck, I care about him. I want him to feel good. I want him to know how fucking amazing he makes me feel.
Reaching between my legs, I grab my cock and stroke and come harder than I ever have in my life, babbling his name. The way he growls my name when he comes inside me, filling me with his cum, is not something I’ll ever forget.
Gunnar slumps atop me, and I yelp in protest. “No! Not the wet spot! Ugh!” I grimace in disgust when I’m forced down into the puddle of my own cum.
Above me, Gunnar chuckles. “I’ll clean you up. Don’t worry.” His chest and belly rise and fall rapidly, pressing me into the mattress. He’s like a big, wonderful, sentient blanket. A sweaty, hairy one, but still. It’s nice. More than nice.
His fingers tighten around mine, and I’m surprised to see our hands intertwined.
When did that happen?
I squeeze back, smiling. His hands are lovely. Big and calloused, powerful.
Atop me, Gunnar tenses. He even stops breathing.
“What is it?” I look around at him.
Gunnar stares at our entwined hands with an expression that makes my heart sink. I can’t read him. All the floaty post-sex feelings burst like a balloon in my stomach. “Is everything okay?” Gunnar tugs his hand from mine, and his weight disappears from my back.
It’s all the answer I need.
“I’ll, uh… I’ll get us some wet cloths.” Without looking at me, Gunnar gets off the bed and walks into the en suite bathroom.
The sweat turns cold on my body, making me shiver.
When he sits down beside me, Gunnar doesn’t meet my gaze.
He rubs my stomach clean, then makes a pass between my legs.
It’s all very businesslike. Nothing like the tender, attentive lover he was not even a minute ago.
“Gunnar,” I say, then stop, at a loss for words. Is he regretting what we did? Does he feel guilty? “Are you all right?”
Gunnar drops the wet cloth on the floor and gets off the bed.
“Fine.” He rummages around in his bag. “Just need to go for a run.” When he stands, he tosses fur over his shoulders.
He slides open the balcony door and steps out without bothering to dress.
Before I can call him back inside, his furs come alive, crawling over every inch of bare skin.
Four paws hit the deck, and then he leaps from the balcony and out of view.
Silence descends, and I’m left alone to wonder if we just made a terrible mistake we can never take back.