Chapter 35 Love
XXXV Love
His breath escapes in a rush when he sees I am completely naked underneath. He shakes his head with a low growl.
“I could have just hiked it up, taken you on my desk. Fuck, pet. Next time.”
I don’t tell him Arvi engineered this, and instead, I throw the dress onto the floor by his feet. Magnar tsks with disapproval and bends to pick it up, the breathtaking musculature of his back playing and straining with the movement. He goes over to a chair and drapes the silk over it.
“Respect those nice clothes that make me so fucking horny for you, wife.”
“Oh, so it’s the clothes,” I say, a bit amused, a bit uncertain.
He scoffs. “Of course not. You could wear a potato sack and still make me hard. Undo my belt.”
I glance at him, my face hot. He ordered me to undress him on our wedding night, as well.
His fists clench and unclench at his sides as I loosen the buckle and pull the trousers down his hips, kneeling on the bed while he stands in front of me.
He wears underwear today, and I push them down, too.
The sight of his hard length fills my belly with hot fluttering.
“Do you know why I make you undo my belt?” he asks hoarsely.
When I shake my head, he grins. “Because there’s nothing more arousing than the sight of your clawless, human fingers working me open, pet.
I don’t want an Agnidari wife, even if she were easier to handle. I only want you. You are perfect.”
“I want you, too,” I say after I wrestle my tight throat into submission.
I’d like nothing more than to say I love him, but I’m not sure that’s true, so I take a deep breath and tell him things I am certain of.
“I like and respect you. I admire you, and I desire you deeply. I feel safe with you, safer than I ever was at home. And I don’t hate you. Will you please remember it?”
He laughs under his breath, his silver eyes crinkling with warmth.
“Yes. I’ll do my best. Thank you. Now show me how wet your cunt is.”
I swallow with difficulty and nod, lying down carefully. Magnar cocks an eyebrow, still standing by the bed, his trousers around his knees. He makes no move to help or direct me, and I brace myself, closing my eyes, and open my legs.
“Oh, pet. Mmm. Touch yourself with your fingers and show me how easy it is to glide them up and down this sweet pussy.”
I sob, gripping the sheets, and give him a pleading look.
“Why don’t you touch me yourself?”
“In a moment. Please. I want to see your hand there. Your sweet finger inside you, love. Put it in and let me lick it off.”
He’s merciless, and even though my insides squirm with embarrassment, I know I’m getting wetter by the second. Just his hot gaze and commanding voice are enough. With a whimper of defeat, I touch myself gently, hissing when I feel how wet and hot it is, how tender.
“Yes,” he grunts, fisting his cock. “Now inside. You can handle one tiny finger, pet. You had my cock in there, and it’s so much thicker.”
I search for my opening, and slowly, with my breath bated, push inside. He groans and steps out of his trousers, climbing in bed. He pulls my hand free and sucks my finger into his mouth. His eyes are locked on mine, and they glitter with satisfaction.
“Grip my cock. Go on. I want to see it.”
I remember what Khay and Raduna said before, about wanting to see my hands on them.
“Are you all so fixated on my hands, then?” I ask as I sit up, reaching for him with trembling fingers.
“Hands, lips, ass, tits, cunt, legs, belly, eyes, hair… Pretty much everything, love. Oh, fuck! Good. Squeeze tight.”
“Won’t it hurt you?” I ask, unable to tear my eyes away from where my hand, indeed so small, struggles to wrap around the thick, pulsing muscle.
“No. Don’t be afraid. Touch me, love.”
I squeeze harder, and his cock grows purple, the veins more prominent. The head glistens, the darkest of all, and clear liquid drips out onto the sheet, stretching like a cobweb.
“I already tasted you. Here.”
He swipes at it with his blunt-nailed finger and brings it to my mouth, his eyes blazing. I part my lips, and he paints the lower one with his arousal, then grabs my hair and pulls me up for a kiss. I choke on a gasp of shock, and he kisses me hard, grunting into my mouth with abandon.
“Mine,” he says, pulling away. “My wife. Say it.”
“I’m your wife, Magnar.”
“Perfect.”
He pushes me down onto the bed and looks speculatively between my legs, then at my face. Thinking, he works his fist up and down his length, and finally settles between my legs with a focused expression.
“We’ll do it differently today. I want you to come from my knob. Breathe.”
He nudges my entrance with the blunt tip and I do my best to relax, gazing up at his broad chest. Magnar releases a shaky breath and pushes in. I gasp instantly, feeling every inch of his progress as he slowly stretches me open.
“This sweet cunt will choke me,” he grits out, stopping when he’s seated halfway in me. “You’re even tighter than before. Fuck. That oil actually did something. Caliane? Are you well?”
“Mmm. Yes. Trying… To breathe.”
He snorts with amusement. “I won’t ever be deep enough to affect your breathing, pet.”
“You always affect my breathing!” I gasp out, clutching the sheets. “Please move, do something. This is unbearable.”
“Are you in pain?”
“A little, but oh, that’s not…” He pulls back and then slowly thrusts in, just enough for the friction to burn in the most delicious way. I crane my head back, eyes closed, and moan.
“Look at that,” he whispers, sounding a little mean. Oh, I know that voice. It will turn me into a puddle in the most indecent way. “You really like your husband’s scary cock, don’t you, pet? This cunt weeps for me. Tell me now. How much do you like it when I fuck you? And don’t say ‘mate’.”
I sob, and he arches away gracefully, bracing himself on straight arms. His eyes shine, riveted on my face. His hips pull back and slowly in, and I choke on my breath, writhing.
He’s too big. I can’t take it.
“I’m waiting.”
“I-I like it v-very much,” I say through a sob.
He narrows his eyes with a cunning smirk. “Mhm, but what do you like, pet?”
“This!” I exclaim, waving a shaky hand at where we’re joined.
Magnar pulls out and slides down my body until we’re face to face, and he touches his nose to mine.
“This? I don’t know what ‘this’ is. You must be more specific.”
I sigh, looking up into his eyes, and smile. I will not say ‘fuck’, but there are other expressions.
“I like it when you make love to me.”
His face darkens, eyes narrowing before he snorts with amusement. “Cheeky thing. So it’s like that, huh? You want me to make love to you?”
I nod, though I’m not sure now. “Is there a difference?”
He arches his eyebrows, nodding back as if to mock me. “Ah, a world of difference, pet. Fucking is for pleasure and for breeding my wife. But making love to her is another beast altogether. Very well.”
He gathers my wrists and pulls them up above my head, holding both with one large palm. His erection rests against my thigh as he trails his lips slowly up my cheek, kissing my temple. I blink, surprised by the gentle caress.
He continues, dropping sweet kisses on my face and hairline until he pulls back with a smile, though there’s tension around his eyes.
“I didn’t fall in love with you the first time I saw you.”
My lips part in confusion, my heart beating faster and faster as he leans in to give me a soft, loving kiss.
It’s deep, his tongue caressing mine, but slow and delightful, like a rare dessert.
I sigh into his mouth. When he pulls back, I blink my eyes open with reluctance.
My arousal has turned into a lazy humming, and I sink into the bed with pleasure.
“I also didn’t fall in love when you married me.
Nor when you challenged me in your castle’s library.
I lusted for you then, I admit. You were breathtaking when you told me off in that prissy voice, a slip of a girl trying to tell me what to do with my conquest. It would have been endearing if it wasn’t so fucking hot. ”
“What are you saying?” I ask, shaking my head, but Magnar only smiles and presses his lips to my throat, kissing it before he sucks my skin into his mouth.
I gasp and flex my hands, still held in his grip. He licks that stinging spot, then moves on to another, which he also marks. By the time he’s done, I must have seven or more stains on my neck and around my collarbones. He pulls back and looks at them with proprietary smugness.
“I lusted for you very much when we rode together. Oh, that was a hard day, in every meaning of the word. I didn’t love you back then, either.”
He watches me for a moment as if to see if I’ll ask him again what he means, but I’m silent, both dreading and hoping for what comes next.
He kisses my lips and continues the journey down my body, kissing a hot pathway down to my breast, which he licks and suckles, finally marking it with a red stain, too.
Currents of pleasure vibrate through my limbs and torso.
“Then you got drunk and told me how you’ve been abused. I don’t think I’ve ever been more furious, pet. I realized I had a powerful urge to protect you. You were mine, after all. A wife. I didn’t love you then.”
When he returns to kiss my lips, I realize my eyes sting. There are only so many I don’t love yous a girl can take. Is this his revenge for me confessing my feelings for Khay? Oh, then so be it. I can take a punishment.
“I think I fell in love with you that day you let me make you come on horseback.”
I gasp, my eyes flying wide open in shock. Magnar looks at me seriously, then slides down my body, pressing many warm kisses to my belly. My ribs flare with every breath as I stare at the top of his head, his expression hidden as he licks my lower belly from the line of hair up to my navel.
“I don’t know what tipped the scales,” he murmurs into my skin between kisses.
“Maybe it was the way you joked with us in the morning, or, admittedly, me coming in my pants. An orgasm can sometimes lead to love. I am almost convinced it happened after you let me touch you, though. When you told me to put your father’s head on a spike. Just like that, I was in love.”
“Magnar…” I begin uncertainly, but he bites my hip with the gentlest pressure, and I yelp. Red, evenly spaced dots color my skin, made by the tips of his sharp teeth. Gods.
“Of course, I had vowed to love you, so it was only a matter of time. Maybe it happened that day because for the first time I felt hope you might forgive me. Killing someone’s father is a grave sin, and I had specifically promised you he would live.
Any wife would hate her husband for breaking such a promise, no matter the circumstances. ”
“I’d like you to stop,” I whisper, choking on unshed tears and violent emotions. “I don’t want to speak about my father in bed. Please. Never again.”
My body feels frozen and numb, guilt, shame, and disgust infecting my every breath. Magnar looks up, his brows pulling into a frown. Whatever he sees must convince him I’m serious, because he sits up fast and pulls me into his lap, cradling my head to his chest.
“All right. Never again.”
We sit in silence, and I don’t even have the strength to embrace him back. The urge to cry recedes, replaced by dark emptiness. Magnar was so warm and delightful, but now, I don’t even feel him much. It’s as if I turned into a statue.
“Tell me about it,” he whispers, stroking my hair.
“Nothing to tell.”
He sighs and shuffles until his back leans against the headboard, and he holds me close, breathing evenly. Oh, I hate myself. I hate that it still affects me so much. He’s dead. Gone! Yet I can’t even enjoy time alone with my husband because of the dead man’s shadow.
I feel so filthy, broken, unfit. Magnar shouldn’t touch me, or the rot might spread to him.
Yet there is no necrosis left by my father’s violating touch. All the scars are in my soul, where only I see them.
“I’m sorry,” Magnar murmurs, reaching around me to pull in a duvet. He drapes it over my shoulders.
“You don’t have to apologize,” I say, my throat too numb to color my voice with emotion. “I should be sorry. I am. All you wanted was to mate your wife, and here I went and spoiled everything. Though, maybe not. You still can. If you want.”
“Mhm, and you’ll just lie there like a corpse and pray for it to end. No, thank you. We’ll try again, love. Now rest. I think I can hold you for half an hour longer. Then I’ll bring in Khay, all right?”
More guilt crushes me, but at this point, I welcome it like an old friend. It’s so familiar.
“You’re so busy, and I’m making you waste time. Please, go back to work. I’ll be fine.”
He clicks his tongue chidingly. “Being with you is not a waste of time.”
I sigh and settle in, and Magnar hums a slow, rhythmic song.
Minutes pass, ten, then twenty. My skin warms up, and I begin to feel again.
The shadows recede, and soon, it’s only me and him, skin to skin.
He keeps humming as he runs his fingers down my head and back, and I sigh with regret when my body awakens completely, the familiar ache returning between my thighs.
“Are you feeling better? You’ve warmed up.”
I nod meekly, pressing my palms to his sides where his ribs undulate with his every breath. Magnar sits up higher and clears his throat. I feel him harden, but he says nothing.
I don’t have the right to ask for it, and yet the longing is too horrible to bear. I brace for refusal and look up.
“Could we try again now? If you have to go, I’ll understand.”
He nods, face serious as he studies me. “Are you sure you want to? You’re not doing it just to please me?”
I smile, biting the inside of my lip, and leave the darkness behind.
“Well, I enjoy pleasing you and I want it very much. I want you.”
He nods but hesitates. “Is there anything I should avoid in the future?” he asks after a pause. “Apart from what we discussed.”
“Nothing comes to mind right now.”
“Good. Tell me if you think of something. Now turn around.”
He pushes the heavy duvet to the side, and I turn in his lap until my back is to him, unsure what he intends. Magnar holds me tight and lowers himself until he’s half-lying. He pulls me onto his hips, and I straddle him, his erection standing proud between my legs. The sight makes my breath catch.
“Have you ever seen a potter at work?”