Chapter 16
Elina
Over the next few weeks, things go back to normal, and yet they change.
I play with Asbjorn at the club every Friday, and Ulf is there watching.
But instead of having me face the wall, Asbjorn restrains me with my back to the cross, allowing Ulf to watch me straight-on.
And Ulf doesn’t just watch. He quietly slips into my private sphere, takes and dominates without saying a word. And I succumb every single time.
The first few times, he remains on the couch at the back of the room, but one night, he moves closer, bringing a chair up to the play area, demonstratively taking a seat as a spectator.
The trap of his gaze is much more severe up close, and I can barely breathe.
“Look at Ulf,” Asbjorn keeps demanding while he snaps a cane against my thighs. But his words are superfluous. The lock of Ulf’s gaze has already snapped shut, forcing my attention on him. I couldn’t break free even if I wanted to. That’s how strong his hold on me is.
Asbjorn goes at my thighs without mercy.
I scream and buck in the chains, squeezing my eyes shut as the pain slashes through me, then staring at Ulf as I capitulate in utter, overpowering surrender.
Asbjorn pauses every now and then to toy with my pussy, and then I’m moaning and panting uncontrollably as pleasure overcomes me.
I forget myself and my modesty as I get lost in the demanding authority Ulf quietly wields over me.
But when Asbjorn gives me a pause to breathe after a particularly severe strike, my brain wakes up.
It’s just for a moment, but as I see it all from the outside, clarity strikes.
I’m not just giving a little piece of myself; I’m giving everything.
To a man I haven’t spoken more than three words to. A man I ache for but can’t have.
My heart contracts, panic takes over.
“It’s too much, it’s too much,” I erupt, squeezing my eyes shut and shaking my head. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep allowing him access to my deepest, most intimate parts. I just can’t.
“Stop. It’s too much,” I keep begging even though Asbjorn has already dropped the cane and is reaching for the right cuff.
“Please get me down,” I implore, even as he’s doing just that, opening the carabiner and releasing the cuff.
He’s about to reach for my left hand but steps aside when someone else moves close.
I sense his presence—Ulf—but I don’t look.
I can’t. I just want to get away. I can’t take this anymore.
Pining so obviously for a man I can’t have is humiliating—not knowing why he keeps watching.
Whenever I ask Asbjorn, I only get some vague explanation.
He’s the chieftain, or you’ll find out soon enough.
I thought I could control my emotions—that none of it mattered; it was all just a little fun and exploration—but suddenly, I can’t deny that Ulf has a tight grip on my heart.
“Please,” I repeat with urgency, pressing my hand to my mouth as I try to hold in the sudden burst of grief. But I know all I can do is delay it.
The steps come closer, a powerful presence closing in. And then arms wrap around me. Tight and tender. It’s not Asbjorn.
It’s Ulf.
The scent of pine and raw masculinity swamps my senses, and his warmth engulfs me in stability and protection.
“I’m here,” he whispers, gripping the back of my neck tightly as his other arm becomes a steel band around my waist. “I’ve got you, little deer.”
That’s when I break. I can’t control it.
It’s all I’ve been longing for since that night he came to my place and held me while I cried—maybe even since the first time I saw him.
Tears trail down my cheeks, wetting his shirt as I press myself into him, and ugly sobs rip from my throat.
I clutch onto his shirt, wanting to beg him to never let me go.
But I know saying the words out loud would only cause more hurt when he couldn’t promise to stay.
“I’ve got you,” he repeats, kissing the top of my head. “No more. You’ve had enough.”
I’m not sure exactly what he means, but I think he’s referring to more than the cane. No matter what it is, he’s right. I’ve had enough of whatever this is.
Asbjorn leans in to release my left hand, and I immediately latch onto Ulf’s shirt with this one too. He keeps his grip on me tight as Asbjorn releases my legs. Then he hoists me into his arms and carries me to a private room, where he closes the door and sinks onto a bed with me in his arms.
He doesn’t say anything; he just sits there holding me tight, rocking me slowly, and pressing tiny kisses all over my hair while I cry.
It takes a long while before I calm down. Once I finally do, a ton of questions are swirling in my head, but it’s not because I’m not supposed to address him that I don’t ask them. I simply don’t have it in me to voice them. I can’t bear the disappointment of the answers I know I’ll get.
“I’ll take you home,” Ulf finally says and carries me out of the room.
The club has gone quiet. Only Asbjorn is here.
“Is she okay?” he asks.
I feel Ulf make a brief shake of his head. “I’m taking her home. We’ll talk later, when I get back to the farm.”
I lift my head again, casting Asbjorn a concerned look. I hate to leave him like this. He’s so incredibly caring, and I know he’s worried about me. I can tell it from the frown that has settled deep between his brows.
“It’s okay,” he assures me, stepping closer to stroke my cheek. “Let Ulf take you home. We’ll talk soon.”
I nod, and then Ulf carries me out, gathers my things, and drives me home.
I expect him to leave once he’s followed me upstairs to my apartment, so I’m a little surprised when he takes off his boots and crawls into bed with me.
Once again, silence descends between us.
But like the last time we were here, words seem superfluous.
The energy crackles between us, hot and potent, as he wraps his arms and legs around me, consuming everything I am and feel.
He starts humming, and then he begins to sing.
It’s a soft, gentle song in Old Norse that reminds me of the music they play at the club.
Maybe it’s even by one of those bands. I don’t understand much except something about flower fields with buzzing bees, dreams of honey, and a bear crawling into hibernation.
His voice has a raw but calm quality steeped in deep emotion. It lulls me, and I almost fall asleep as he rocks me in time to the song.
Once he’s finished, he lifts a hand to stroke his fingertips along my hairline. “It’s a lullaby for the bear. ‘Hibj?rnen,’” he says.
“It’s beautiful,” I whisper, sinking deeper into him and tightening my grip on his arm. I wish he would never leave, but when he props his head on his elbow and gently turns my face toward him, I sense the end drawing near. And not just the end of the night. Something more final.
I swallow hard to rid my throat of the growing knot, but it lodges there, holding me on the edge of another breakdown.
A serious expression that worries me settles over his brow. “Can you be patient for me?” he asks, pressing his hand to my cheek, big and warm. “Just a little while longer.”
“Patient? For what?” I lift my shoulders, utterly lost.
“You’ll see soon enough. For now, I want you to stay with Asbjorn; let him take care of you.”
“Why?”
“No questions. Just trust me that everything will work out in the end. I’ll make sure of it.”
I shake my head and part my lips, wanting to ask how. But I can’t get the words out.
“Can you do that for me, Elina? Be patient and let Asbjorn take care of you.”
Part of me doesn’t want to agree, but another part of me will do anything Ulf asks of me. And that’s the part that wins out. So I nod. “Okay.”
A warm smile softens his gaze. “Good girl. Soon, you’ll be right where you belong.
” He leans in and presses his lips to my forehead.
Instead of breaking the kiss after a natural few seconds, he lingers.
I think I sense my own painful longing reflected in him, but I can’t know for sure.
I don’t trust my mind around him. But the kiss says so much more than the small signs of approval he grants me after watching a scene.
It awakens a twinge of hope, but when he finally sits up and leaves the bed and my apartment, the hope drowns in the gut-wrenching longing that has me crying myself to sleep for two nights in a row.