Chapter 13
Elina
Asbjorn keeps one arm tightly banded around my middle while he slowly slides his other hand up, over my chest and neck, to my face, and over my mouth.
My eyes widen when I realize what he’s about to do, and a slow smile spreads over Ulf’s lips at the sight of my reaction.
“Not that,” I manage just before Asbjorn presses his palm over my lips.
“Oh yes.”
Nostrils flaring, I pant as he hovers his fingers at the edges of my nose.
A reflexive jerk makes me tug at the chains when he snaps my nose shut. My nervous system is so wrought that any little jolt will add to the fear already thrumming deep within me.
“Don’t fight it,” Asbjorn coaxes. “Your breath is not yours to control anymore.”
Everything spinning, I grip onto the chains.
But as I keep watching Ulf, the world also slows down.
It’s so confusing. The dizzy haze over my brain deepens.
I blink, trying to focus my thoughts. But I can’t.
All I can see is the man who has been watching me for months.
The man who has been dominating my dreams and is now dominating me from afar.
He makes a slow nod as if saying everything’s okay, and I stop twitching. I go still, melting into Asbjorn—melting beneath the magnificent power Ulf quietly wields over me.
The drums keep beating outside, dragging me deeper into the trance, and the glow of the fire creates a hypnotic light. For a moment, it’s like a dream.
But then my lungs start to heave in earnest. I release a low whimper behind Asbjorn’s hand. When he doesn’t react, I give a small jerk. Nothing.
The fear darkens, sweeping over my brain in a black fog. I jerk against the chains—against Asbjorn’s tight grip. Nothing budges, so I jerk harder. The desperation thrums within me, but somewhere in the chaos, there’s also a swirl of desire.
“Look at him,” Asbjorn demands in a terrifying growl, and I realize my eyes have shut. “You won’t get to breathe before you do.”
I snap my eyes open, colliding with Ulf’s unforgiving gaze. There’s no mercy or comfort, only sharp demand.
It’s like standing at the ledge of a steep cliff, watching an icy winter landscape. Brutal and breathtaking. I can’t process it. I keep writhing frantically and fruitlessly even as I watch him.
And then it all stops. Asbjorn pulls his hand away with an abrupt motion.
I reel, gasping and panting for precious air, shaking in my bonds and jerking as instinct takes me in its clutches.
It takes a while for me to calm down, and when I do, reality creeps in, embarrassment and uncertainty taking over. I want to cover myself—the fear written all over my face, my nakedness, and my bared desires. But I can’t even hide behind closed eyelids. So I do the only thing I can. I succumb.
A well of emotion washes over me the moment I go slack in Asbjorn’s arms. The flood is so strong it draws tears to my eyes. I have no idea what’s happening. Before I can figure it out, Asbjorn reaches between my legs and trails a finger through my dripping wet opening.
I gasp at the sudden flare of sensation.
“Pretty little Freja likes to be scared,” he croons, and the satisfied sound is mirrored in Ulf’s expression. Ulf can’t even feel me, yet somehow, he knows exactly how I’m reacting. The realization only draws me deeper into the spell. Deeper into their control.
Asbjorn toys at my opening, sparking desire in my nerves and lighting fire to my core.
I can’t control anything as the pleasure rises through my body and goes to my brain.
I start moaning—long, free sounds that mingle with the drums and the chanting vocals from outside.
I drop my head back against Asbjorn’s chest, keeping my eyes on Ulf, who drags his thumb across his lips in a motion that makes me crave his kiss.
But I can’t have it. I can only have what these two men want to give me.
I think that is an orgasm when Asbjorn drives me closer to the peak.
He inserts one finger, then drags it over my sensitive nub, then two fingers slip inside.
I buck and cry out from the intensity of it. I’m so close. Just a little more.
I barely comprehend the meaning when Ulf makes a slow shake of his head. It’s only when Asbjorn pulls out and steps back with a suddenness that leaves me reeling that I understand. No orgasm. At least not yet, because I have a feeling that they’re far from done with me.
“Wh-what are you doing?” I gasp as Asbjorn moves about behind me.
I want to turn my head and look, but I don’t dare to release Ulf’s gaze.
As if sensing my urge to look away, he lifts his chin in a quiet warning, and it works better than any sharp command.
Because his will is already embedded deep inside me.
So deep that obedience has become my sole purpose.
It’s that inexplicable sensation whenever he’s watched me and I’ve wanted to drop to my knees, now manifested, growing roots inside me.
“Getting this little thing,” Asbjorn says in a low hum when he steps up to me again and holds a small but very significant object in front of my face.
Staring at a small steel butt plug, I shake my head. But Ulf slowly nods, crossing his arms over his chest and lifting his brows with an unmistakable demand.
I keep shaking my head, panting hard as mortification overcomes me.
Because I know there’s no way I can stop this.
Technically, I could use my safeword, but I can’t.
I’m not in control. I don’t want to be in control.
I want to sink deeper. So deep that I don’t know who I am anymore—only a vessel for his will.
The floaty dizziness deepens as I soften my weight into the bonds.
For a moment, my sight blurs. It’s almost too much.
A slow wave of nausea rolls through me, but it’s quickly gone again.
Only the floaty dizziness remains—the sensations.
The steady beat of the music, the buzzing hum at my core, and the terrifying anticipation as Asbjorn drags a cold, wet finger between my ass cheeks.
He takes his time smearing lube around my opening, pushing the tip of his finger just inside, and circling slowly.
A whole new bunch of nerves flare alive, making me lean further into the chains.
Mortification flushes hot across my skin.
Once again, I want to hide. But I can’t.
And as I keep watching Ulf, the last remnants of my will float away.
I descend into complete, utter submission.
It scares me to the core, giving in and giving up myself like this, yet it’s the highest thrill I’ve ever experienced—the deepest trance and the biggest freedom. There’s no thought, no consideration. Just floating in the steady current of their command.
Asbjorn presses the plug against my tight opening, and I cry out as pleasure crackles through my nerves.
My mouth falls open when he keeps pushing, widening my tight rim of muscle and sending bolts of electricity to my core.
A moan sticks at the back of my throat. But it won’t break free.
Because I’m stuck in the mind-numbing intensity—the pleasure, the exposure, and the heady dominance.
When the plug finally pops into place, the moan slips free with a startled gasp.
With the plug inserted, Asbjorn grabs me again, banding an arm tightly around my waist, slipping his other hand between my legs. I go absolutely wild when he starts stroking my clit, bucking and jerking as my moans morph into screams. My eyes fall shut, but Asbjorn demands my attention back on Ulf.
“Look at him,” he orders in a sharp tone that spurs my instant obedience.
I force my eyes open and stare at Ulf while pleasure rips through me, hot and wild. Ulf runs his tongue across his lower lip, and his entire stance seems to grow with dominance and desire. I can’t take it. My brain feels like it’s about to cave in—my body the same.
Asbjorn lifts his free hand to my mouth, but this time, he doesn’t hover. I only just manage a deep breath before he snaps my nose shut, sealing my airways with his huge hand.
I whimper wildly, my body twisting and straining as the overwhelming loss of control merges into the already spinning storm of desire and desperation.
Asbjorn slows his strokes on my clit, and I squeeze my eyes shut, groaning into his hand as I fall back from the edge—just slightly.
When I open my eyes again, Ulf is reaching behind him, grabbing a knife from the table.
His eyes widen with an intensity that I think is a threat.
Or maybe wild desire. Slowly and demonstratively, he trails the blade over his palm.
A sweet, but dangerous caress. My mind conjures images of that same blade caressing my skin.
I tense up as if it’s already there, not daring to move a muscle.
Tilting his head, Ulf studies my reaction, and something wicked seems to gleam in his eyes as he narrows them.
Lifting the knife with two fingers, he balances the tip on the pad of his index finger.
My chest stutters with the need for air, and my eyes widen as I watch him twirl it around. He must be breaking the skin.
Would he break mine?
The thought drives me wild. I start writhing again as fear and desire flood my system.
Suddenly, everything is pulsing—every little nerve is hissing and crackling, every muscle twitching and contracting.
I’m strung so tight it’s painful. I press my pelvis into Asbjorn’s hand, needing more—needing less as my oxygen grows scarce.
I writhe against his grip on my mouth, but it’s no use.
I won’t get to breathe until he wants me to.
Asbjorn sinks two fingers inside my pussy, and I cry out into his hand, using more of my dwindling oxygen.
The sensation is startling. The wide fit of his fingers presses against the butt plug, and his palm rubs against my clit.
Sensation sparks all over, shooting from every direction, until my core is thrumming louder than the drums outside.
But the need for air is fighting for attention. My eyes blur. The contraction in my lungs grows painful. I jerk wilder. He doesn’t release me.
Instinct kicks in as the need to breathe takes over everything. I tug at the chains, desperately trying to reach for his hand and pull it away. But I can’t do anything.
“Look at him, or you won’t breathe,” Asbjorn whispers.
The moment my eyes collide with Ulf’s, Asbjorn releases my mouth. Air swooshes into my system like a bolt of lightning. The force rips through me, crashing with the thrumming sensations I had almost forgotten—setting fire to them.
I scream as an orgasm, so wild I can barely breathe, rips through me. I twist and convulse, pant and grapple at the chains.
All the while, Ulf keeps watching me, spinning that knife.
My eyes shut and snap open as the storm rips through me, and flickers of Ulf’s demanding stare and the spinning knife flash before me.
It’s too much. The sensations, the utter surrender. The otherworldly sounds of the drums and the almost godly dominance Ulf is wielding from afar.
The moment the orgasm loosens its grip on me, I collapse. My hands fall limp in the cuffs, and my feet slide toward the window as my knees cave in.
Asbjorn catches me. His arm around my waist easily holds my weight while he reaches for the cuffs to open them. It takes a while and some fumbling with one hand to unlock the padlocks and free my hands.
He has just gotten my second arm free when I vaguely register someone entering the room and going to work on my feet, unlocking the cuffs and freeing my legs.
Once I’m free, Asbjorn scoops me up and places me on a soft fur on a bed, covering me with a blanket.
And then everything fades. A blissful, floaty sensation wraps me in quiet darkness.
The drums outside keep beating, but they’re not oppressive.
If anything, they seem to keep me wrapped in calmness—a steady heartbeat that draws me into my body.
Asbjorn strokes my hair gently while he murmurs comforting words. The meaning doesn’t quite register, but the soothing tone is like honey to my ears.
I don’t know how long I lie there—completely still. I don’t move a single muscle. Not even a twitch. I’m not even sure I could if I tried.
Finally, my body starts to wake up. I move my fingers a little, then curl my arms up and fold my legs in my favorite comfortable position.
God, it’s peaceful. I’ve never tried anything like it.
“Elina?” Asbjorn says. He’s behind me, sitting against the headboard, giving me space to drift while letting me know he’s here with soft strokes.
“Hmm.”
“Is it okay if Ulf sits with you for a while?”
My slowed-down heart makes a double beat.
I open my eyes and see the shadow of someone moving behind me, and that’s when I feel that pull—the intensity of his power that always draws me in.
I wasn’t even aware he was here. My brain is too slow to have realized he must have been the one to free my legs.
It’s on standby. I didn’t even register that the person who came into the room didn’t leave again.
I turn my head a bit more to see Ulf. The sight of him up close is startling—his observant eyes and tall, mighty posture.
“Um,” I say, uncertain. “Okay.”
Part of me has no idea whether I can handle it, but another part thrums with the desire to feel him.
Asbjorn senses the uncertainty. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” I reply with more clarity.
Asbjorn moves to sit in a recliner close by, where he watches over me as Ulf takes his place on the bed.
Instead of sitting against the headboard, like Asbjorn did, Ulf lies down behind me.
The intimacy, even before he touches me, sends a swoosh through my body.
It’s almost more than I can bear in my shaken-up and drugged-like state.
Anxiety starts to crackle, but when Ulf places his big, warm hand on my cheek, it all draws back.
The world shuts off, my eyes fall closed, and peace descends.
I drift back into that floaty space, lying completely still, just soaking up his touch and his presence. I don’t know what it is about him, but being this close to him is a rush in and of itself. It rattles me even as it grounds me.
At some point, he starts stroking me. He pushes the blanket off enough to trail his hand down my arm, my waist, and my hip. He moves so close that the heat of his body kisses my back.
Little shivers skitter across my skin, and I soften even further. My mind goes quiet, my breathing slows down, and I drift away with a feeling that I finally have found the place I’ve been searching for all my life.