Chapter 13 Njord’s Draumar #2
For a blissful moment, Njord lost himself in the delicious drag of teeth and tongue, simply enjoying the way Thori shuddered under his touch. When was the last time he had been able to fully immerse himself in a task without worries clouding his mind?
But all too soon, Thori’s skin started to heat further as if he were running a fever. A deep blush spread across his cheekbones and ran all the way over his shoulders and chest. Needy little sounds fell from his parted lips as he pressed his whole body against Njord’s.
He was so gorgeous. The golden, perfect warrior god trembled under Njord’s touch. It gave him a feeling of superiority. Power. And it calmed the roaring force of the seas raging inside Njord. He knew this was dangerous, but he couldn’t refuse it.
“Lie down. On your back,” Njord heard himself say as if from far away.
Thori blinked, gaze a little unfocused. He looked as if he couldn’t decide whether he should obey or rather cling to Njord, as if he couldn’t stand to lose their bodily contact.
Hel, he was so susceptible to the seier surrounding them, so affected by the ritual.
Maybe because, aside from being the lord of storm and thunder, deep down he was the son of the earth, giver of rich harvests and pleasant weather.
Njord felt his remaining composure to act cold and unforgiving toward Thori shatter. It was only for tonight, anyway.
“On your back,” he ordered, though his voice was all soft.
Leaning forward, he guided Thori where he wanted him, mindful to keep touching him, to never lose contact. Lying him out on the furs was easy. It felt like they’d already spent a lifetime touching, learning each other’s bodies.
The veil between the worlds was thin tonight indeed, giving their surroundings a strange and dreamlike quality.
Njord could feel the seier flowing all around them, making the candles flicker and the red embers in the brazier flare.
A truly powerful blessing. A huge wave, ready to tear away everything in its path.
Thori’s grip on his shoulders tightened.
“Please—”
The wave broke, and Thori arched his back, gasping.
When he collapsed back onto the furs, a sickly green hue dulled his usually radiant amber eyes.
Seier. Way more than Thori could cope with.
He tried to pull Njord closer somehow, but ended up pawing uselessly at his shoulders. A broken moan slipped past his lips.
“Please—”
Gods, Njord knew what he had to do. Only he hadn’t expected that it would feel so utterly wrong to use Thori like this.
Still, leaving him to be consumed by the magic rolling over them was even more cruel.
So, Njord kissed him, filthy and deep. He gave Thori’s cock a few perfunctory strokes while fumbling with his free hand for the vial of oil he kept in the chest next to his bed.
Thori whined when he took his hands from him to coat his fingers, but Njord shut him up with another kiss.
Hel, unable to shield himself from the power around them as he was, Odinsson would stand no chance of surviving the ritual on his own.
Njord was glad that they wouldn’t have to test how the whole affair would turn out if they performed the ritual themselves.
He would give Thori just enough pleasure to ride out the spell, nothing more.
All he would do was ensure his thrall’s survival so Thori could pay his debt.
Gingerly, he slid his hand down Thori’s cock and nudged against his entrance.
Even the gentle touch earned him another lewd moan and a roll of hips.
Thori should refuse to take anything into his body, even if it was only Njord’s fingers.
The fact that he was pressing down on them revealed just how far he was carried away by the spell.
Njord had to hold him down by straddling his thigh to keep him even remotely still.
Writhing under his touch, Thori continued to make the most delightful little noises as Njord slowly opened him up. Two fingers should suffice for what he needed to do.
“Are you still with me, Odinsson?”
A half-lidded gaze from dull eyes.
“Thori?”
“Huh?”
He looked so soft. So vulnerable. It made Njord feel all funny.
“Look at me.”
Giving a gentle thrust of his fingers, he watched Thori’s pupils dilate.
“I want you to concentrate on our connection. Can you feel that?”
“Y-yes.”
“Good.”
He moved carefully, paying attention to every quiver of Thori’s body and every stutter of his breath.
It was so easy to find the right rhythm, flowing with the waves of magic surrounding them.
And it didn’t take long until he found the spot that made Thori shudder all over.
He leaned down to kiss the moans right from Thori’s parted lips.
“Don’t fight the seier. Just let it wash over you. Let me handle the rest. Let me keep you afloat.”
Thori clutched his shoulders as if he were indeed keeping him from drowning.
“Just like that,” Njord purred.
Spreading his legs a little wider, Thori allowed him even better access.
“That’s it. You’re being such a good little thrall.”
Later, Njord would tell himself he was taunting Thori, that his words were meant to humiliate, not to soothe, but if he was being honest with himself, he wanted Thori to feel safe. At least while this moment lasted.
He took his time guiding Thori to the edge, kissing him languidly and giving him a slow but steady rhythm. Like waves rolling ashore. Even. Unhurried.
He could feel Thori’s breath ghosting over his lips.
Thori was panting by now, his whole body pressed against Njord’s touch as if he couldn’t bear to be separated from him by only a few inches.
Getting Thori to lose himself in pleasure was just so easy, and all too soon, the godling’s unrestrained moans rang through the tent.
Pleasepleaseplease. More, I need—ahhh—
A smug smile pulled at Njord’s lips.
His life had been filled with sorrow and duty for so long that he had almost forgotten how much he loved this: making a hardened warrior lose his mind in pleasure, making a strong man tremble underneath him, begging him for more. With Thori, the reward was even sweeter, because he was just so…
Precious.
Fingers digging almost painfully into Njord’s shoulders, Thori’s whole body tensed up. More seier. More pleasure. So much pleasure. Making it hard to breathe even for Njord.
He watched Thori’s eyes roll upward, tears spilling down his cheeks, sparkling in the light of the candles. Njord kissed them away tenderly, his throat constricting. Thori’s tears were beautiful, like soft summer rain soaking the fields.
But the tension kept building, and Njord knew Thori needed release soon.
Speeding up his thrusts, he pressed down on the little spot of pleasure inside Thori’s body relentlessly, making him writhe and cry out.
There!
A wave of pure ecstasy broke over them. Blinding. Shattering everything in its wake.
Never before had Njord experienced a ritual of such intensity.
Groaning, he found his own release. Huh? He hadn’t expected this. Blinking away the stars dancing in front of his eyes, he had to gather himself.
He looked down at Thori, who seemed only half-conscious, his cum splayed across his abdomen and his body shuddering with aftershocks.
Njord’s trousers felt sticky as well. Hel, he’d come like a horny youth just from watching Thori’s intense pleasure and from the magic unfolding around them. Undoubtedly, the skalds were going to sing about the seier freed tonight for years to come.
Leaning down, he kissed Thori on the lips, eliciting a soft whimper.
It was done.
Njord could feel the seier finally dissolving, seeping into the soil around the camp and all over Vanaheim. Svanhild’s hold on Thori was finally broken.
A deep tiredness pulled at Njord. But first, he had to look after Thori. Groaning, he got up.
“—you leaving?”
Thori’s voice was soft, and he sounded horrified by the thought of being left alone, probably needing the heat of another body to survive the night.
“I’ll be right back,” Njord promised.
He hated the care he took cleaning Thori, washing sweat and cum from his battered body with a warm cloth. He could just shove him out of the bed to sleep on the floor like a dog, but the idea didn’t sit well with him. Instead, he fetched a bowl of herbal tea and brought it to Thori’s chapped lips.
“Here, drink.”
Watching Thori take a few sips was satisfying, soothing even. When he was content with the amount Thori had drunk, he set the bowl aside and slipped under the sheets. Again, Thori seemed to seek his closeness, chasing his warmth. Even in this pathetic state. Barely lucid.
Good. They both needed to get some rest.