Wregen #2
Finally, my stomach rumbling for a fourth time, he dips his chin. “We’ll try tomorrow,” he says as he leans over and takes my food, then turns and walks away.
Well, fuck. The stakes are set. I didn’t intend to send away my meal, though that’s exactly what I did.
Now, I need to see it through. I’m an elf, so I won’t die.
And I’ve been miserable before. If this is what it takes to see Finaan—to make sure she’s the only one who questions me—this is what we’ll do.
Birger visits me the second day, a steaming bowl of stew and fresh bread leading the way.
It smells wickedly divine—almost better than Finaan’s cunt, although nothing could surpass that—but since the tempting cunt isn’t carrying the tray, I won’t be eating it.
We repeat yesterday’s stare-off, my dinner slowly growing cold on the floor as I fight to stay on my feet instead of dropping to my ass and slurping it down.
But this time I’ve slept, which helped restore some of my strength.
When I’ve won this battle, Birger shrugs, retrieves the tray and walks away.
The third day’s easier. My stomach has adjusted to this new reality and no longer demands food.
The scent is tempting but not painfully so.
Birger must realize it, because he doesn’t stay as long.
The meat pie he’s brought me today probably is still warm when he lifts it and starts eating in front of me.
I watch, my face blank, until he pops the final bite in his mouth, takes the plate, and leaves.
Fhord comes on the fourth day, and he’s not alone.
Three men join him, ropes in hand. I don’t move as they bind my arms behind my back, and offer neither objection nor resistance when they lead me down the hall toward the room with the drain in the floor.
They attach my wrists to a rope and yank, pulling me to my toes as my shoulders pop out of their sockets.
The rush of agony—as if knives have cleaved my arms off, every nerve in my torso announcing their loss at once—almost renders me senseless.
But it doesn’t. They will not see any weakness from me. Even my breath holds firm as I struggle to hide any suggestion of the torment rippling through my body.
Shoving the anguish of this frail body into the hole I created to escape Hel’s punishments, I focus on Finaan.
Our bond has been so strong these last few days, a constant presence that’s bolstered my resolve when I needed it.
I can even feel echoes of her emotions as she moves through this world, the joy of being with friends she’s made here, along with a desperate need to find something missing from her life.
Overlaying all of it, though, is curiosity.
About me, I’m certain. She’s as connected to me as I am to her, even if she doesn’t realize it yet.
I fed the bond between us in Helheim, deepening the link she won’t be able to deny.
Although most days I simply wanted release as I watched her sleep, I sometimes went to Finaan craving more than an orgasm.
Craving her mouth or her cunt. Hel’s penalty for one failure or another had torn something from me I didn’t want to lose, and so I sought out the only person who could make me whole.
She slept, as she always did, but that didn’t matter.
Her naked body lay in front of me, giving me everything I needed.
As I shiver through a slice along my thigh and push that pain into the cavity inside me where everything bad is buried, I concentrate on the first time, the most cleansing moment I’ve ever had with Finaan.
My cock grows—Fhord’s torture waking Wrath with a desperate need—and I picture her glistening pussy.
I’d been following Finaan that day, watching as she wasted time with Svend, that fucker.
She spent more of her days with him than with me, and I hated him for it.
She’d been sleeping for many hours when Hel finally released me, so it didn’t take much to deepen her rest. I took my time removing the gown she wore to sleep, chasing it up her legs and over her heaving tits with my hands and tongue.
And then I kneeled over her, opened her mouth, and fed her my cock.
I’d never tried this before, always using my hand to come.
But I’d been thinking about it for a long time.
I’d been needing it for a long time. Eventually, I’d try her cunt, see if I could keep my visits secret even when I’ve used her the way I really wanted, felt her wrap around me and squeeze out every last drop.
Not this night, though. I started with her mouth and let her taste me in her dreams.
And fuck me if it didn’t work better than I ever hoped. As soon as I hit her throat, she wrapped her luscious lips around me and sucked. When she started moaning, I almost lost it. By the gods, did I wish I could wake her so she could experience this with me.
I’d never risk her that way, though. This would be enough. It would have to be enough.
I’m coming hard, ropes of seed spewing from my swinging cock, when Fhord’s punch snaps me back into my fucked-up reality. I open my eyes and smirk at the pissed off dragon rider, letting that pain shiver through me to draw out my orgasm even longer.
“You really are a sick fuck, aren’t you?” Fhord demands as he stalks over to a table and wipes my cum off a finger. “Did you hear a single thing I said?”
I let my smirk grow into a broad smile as memories of my cock down Finaan’s throat whisper away.
“I will speak to the female leader of the stolen elves,” I tell him. “Nobody else.”
He glares at me, eyebrows drawing together as his lips tip down at the sides.
Finally, he shakes his head and turns to look at one of his men.
“Pop his arms back into their sockets then take him back to his cell,” he mutters.
Spinning on his heel, he slams the door open then barrels through it and down the hall.
He’s pissed. Good. He learned much about me today.
The male isn’t gentle when he cuts the rope from my wrists, letting me slam to the ground with a grunt I can’t hold back this time.
My shoulders are on fire, the arms useless appendages lying by my side.
My back feels as if it’s been ripped open, an inferno dancing through my flesh.
Even my stomach is getting in on it, remembering that it’s been centuries since a single bit of food dropped into its depths.
I’m so fucking weak. I know I won’t die, but for the first time, I wish I would.
Two of them grab my shoulders and jerk me to my feet.
The yell that erupts from my gut rips through my throat and out a mouth I can’t close fast enough.
That’s not the worst of it, though. I set my hips, clamping my lips shut, and wait for the thrust that will set my first arm back in place.
I will not give them the satisfaction of another sound.
Shoving me back toward the closest wall, the guard on my right pulls out that shoulder and slams it into the brick behind me as he twists.
My knees nearly collapse, the trauma tearing through me like a cyclone ripping a seaside village to shreds.
But I stay on my feet, clenching my teeth as the other male does the same on my left.
Fuuuuuuuck me.
Fuck me in the ass.
Fuck me back to Helheim.
Really, just fuck me.
They don’t tie my wrists again because they must know as well as I do that I’m not going anywhere. My body is a useless spire of bones barely held together by the meat that covers them. My blood still flows, but it probably wouldn’t have the energy to drip from me if they were to cut open a vein.
Still, I make it back to my cell on my own feet, standing until they turn from me and walk away. Then, I collapse.
On the fifth day, Finaan comes to me, a tray holding soup and bread in her hands.
And I know I’ve won.
“Why am I here?” Her low voice breaks the silence that descends when her bright gaze finds mine.
“I want you,” I tell her with a shrug, willing my female to close the distance between us.
Wrath erupted from his hollow the moment we sensed her, shoving me aside as he joined me in our psyche.
But he’s not angry this time. She calms him.
He craves the peace he feels only in her presence.
“And I will have you,” I add when she remains silent.
“That’s not an answer,” she complains, still standing too far away. “Why would you want me here? You’re nothing to me. And I’m nothing to you.”
I repress the growl that vibrates through my chest, my beast bristling at her disavowal. She doesn’t understand yet. She will, though. Sooner than she could possibly expect. “Don’t be daft, Finaan. You are not daft.”
“How do you even know my name?” my ferocious skjaldmaer demands, her eyes narrowing as she glares at me.
By the gods, she’s fierce. My cock balloons in my trousers, unwilling to rest while she’s so close, and I watch with a smirk as her gaze drops, eyes widening while her tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip.
Oh, if she only remembered what I’ve done with that mouth and how much she enjoyed it. That sinful part of her knows who she belongs to. Who completes her. She’d open wider and take me now.
“I want you,” I tell her again, letting Wrath fill my words with his need, “and I will have you.”
She drags her gaze away from my hard cock, looking at me with one eyebrow quirked. “You will not,” she says, not an inkling in her voice of the emotions I can feel pulsing through her.
She’s pissed.
And Wrath is rejoicing. We need her emotions, whatever they are.
Hunger and pain are a small price to pay for the reward of Finaan by our side.