Chapter 69 Erik #2
Her release triggers mine, pleasure ripping through me like lightning. I bury myself deep, roaring against her throat as I fill her, marking her from the inside out. Each pulse of my cock draws another tremor from her body, our pleasure feeding off each other in an endless loop of ecstasy.
Her legs melt—no longer able to support her, so I hold her up, my body a pillar of strength.
My cock remains embedded within her, pulsing with residual desire.
One arm wraps around her slender waist to keep her steady while my other hand cups her chin, turning her face to claim her lips in a searing kiss.
Even as our tongues tangle, I continue to pour myself into her, marking her with my essence. Each kiss and breath carries the taste of completion, of absolute satisfaction.
I guide her from the shower, wrapping her in a plush towel before retrieving one of my black shirts from the dresser. The fabric engulfs her, hanging to mid-thigh and slipping off one shoulder. Something stirs in my chest at the sight of her draped in my clothing, my scent.
Her damp hair leaves dark patches on the fabric as she wanders my room, fingers trailing over unfamiliar objects.
"What's this?" She approaches the sleek rectangle mounted on my wall, eyes wide with curiosity.
"Television." I lift the remote, pressing the power button. The screen flares to life with vibrant colors.
Bryn leaps back, hand instinctively reaching for a weapon that isn't there. "By the AllFather!" Her battle stance while wearing nothing but my oversized shirt sends heat pooling low in my abdomen.
"It's harmless," I assure her, fighting a smile. "Moving pictures. Stories contained in a box."
She approaches cautiously, reaching out to touch the screen. "How do the people get in there? Are they trapped?"
"They're not real people." I open my laptop next, the blue glow illuminating her fascinated expression. Her fingers hover over the keyboard, hesitant yet eager.
"This is... magic?" she whispers, watching the cursor move as I demonstrate.
"Technology. Mortal ingenuity."
Her eyes widen further as I open a browser window. "All the knowledge of your realm... contained in this small box?"
"Much of it," I nod, enjoying her wonder. "This little box holds more knowledge than all of Odin's libraries," I explain, typing a search that brings up images of Valkyries from mortal mythology.
"They got our wings all wrong," she scoffs, but her fingers hover reverently over the screen. "This magic... it's extraordinary."
But nothing compares to what I show her next. She circles the toilet with the reverence of a scholar examining ancient artifacts.
"You mean to tell me," she says slowly, "that mortals no longer use chamber pots or outhouses?
They just..." She presses the handle, gasping delightedly as water swirls and disappears.
"By the gods! Your realm has mastered indoor waterfalls?
" She pulls the handle again, watching the water swirl with childlike fascination. "This is... this is magnificent!"
She flushes it three more times, each with increasing enthusiasm. "Erik! Look at it go!"
The sound that escapes me startles us both—a deep, genuine laugh that feels foreign. I can't remember the last time I laughed like this.
Bryn turns, eyebrow arched, a slow smile spreading across her face.
"Well, well... the stoic warrior does have a voice beyond growls and commands.
" She saunters toward me, my shirt slipping off one shoulder.
"I like that sound." Her fingers trail up my chest. "Perhaps I should make it my mission to hear it more often, silfrhár. "
Her fingers trace my jawline, eyes sparkling with mischief. "After all, I've already conquered your bed. Your laughter seems like the next logical territory."
A groan rumbles through my chest as she presses against me. Her scent has transformed—no longer just her own, but a heady mixture of us both. My body responds instantly, hardening against her despite our recent release.
"A warrior with a worthy quest," I murmur, tracing the exposed curve of her shoulder. "I think I could surrender to this invasion, little bird." My fingers tangle in her damp hair, tilting her face to mine. "Though I should warn you—making me laugh might be harder than making me come."
"Is that a challenge, silfrhár?" As she presses deliberately against my erection.
"Because this Valkyrie has never retreated from battle.
" Her hand slides down, palming my cock through my sweatpants, making me grunt.
"Besides, I've already conquered the mighty sword between your legs.
Your laughter should be simple in comparison.
" She rises on her toes, lips brushing my ear.
"Or perhaps I'll make you do both at once, fífl. I do so enjoy a challenge."
Christ. This woman.
A sharp knock shatters the moment. I steal one final taste of those tempting lips before striding to the door.
Dani stands in the hallway, a small pile of folded clothes in her arms. "Hey, sis," she says, peering past me with a knowing smile. "Thought you might need something that actually fits. We're about the same size."
Bryn appears at my side, her smile radiant as she looks at her newfound sister. "Thank you, systir," she says warmly, accepting the bundle. The Old Norse word for sister rolls off her tongue naturally, bridging her warrior past and this new family she's found.
I close the door as Bryn slips into Dani's offerings, the stretchy black fabric clinging to every curve and dip of her body.
The yoga pants mold to her like a second skin, transforming her warrior's physique into something that makes my mouth dry.
The thin-strapped top barely contains her breasts, and the fabric is stretched taut across her nipples.
A growl builds in my chest as she examines herself in the floor-length mirror.
"These garments are... peculiar," she murmurs, turning to examine her reflection from different angles.
Her hands slide down her hips, testing the strange material.
"So tight, yet I can move freely." She suddenly drops into a perfect fighting stance and straightens with a delighted laugh.
"No wonder mortal women conquered their realm—layers of armor and skirts do not hinder them! "
She bounces experimentally on her toes, watching how her breasts move with minimal restraint. "Though I wonder how these tiny straps provide any protection in battle. One good sword strike, and I'd be exposed to the enemy."
"They're not meant for battle," I say, voice rougher than intended as I watch her move. "Though they're certainly... effective weapons in their own right."
My eyes track every curve now highlighted by the modern clothing. Something possessive claws at my insides, demanding I cover her or hide her away from other eyes.
Bryn catches my gaze in the mirror, a slow, knowing smile spreading across her face. She arches her back slightly, deliberately enhancing the view. "Does the sight displease you, silfrhár?" she purrs, turning to face me directly.
"The sight pleases me too much to share," I counter, closing the distance between us in two strides.
She tilts her head—challenge glittering in her mismatched eyes.
"Afraid someone else might appreciate your Valkyrie's.
.. assets?" Her fingers trace the low neckline of her top, drawing my attention exactly where she wants it.
"How interesting that the mighty Erik, who's faced armies without flinching, feels threatened by a bit of exposed skin. "
She steps closer, pressing those perfect curves against my chest. "Perhaps you should mark your territory more clearly," she whispers, "so everyone knows exactly who I belong to."
My hand slides to the back of her neck, fingers tangling in her hair as I pull her flush against me.
"You think I haven't already?" My voice drops to a dangerous rumble.
"Your skin carries my scent. Your throat bears my mark.
" I trace the fading bite with my thumb.
"This," I slowly reach down and cup her pussy, "still holds my cum. "
Her pulse quickens beneath my touch, her pupils dilating with renewed desire.
"But if you need a reminder..." I lower my mouth to her ear, teeth grazing the sensitive lobe. "I'll happily spend the next century making sure every inch of you knows exactly who you belong to."
My other hand slides possessively down her spine, settling at the curve where her back meets that perky ass. "And make no mistake, little bird—" I squeeze, lifting her slightly against me, "—while you may have conquered me, I've claimed you just as thoroughly."
"Is that so?" Bryn purrs, her fingers sliding beneath my shirt to trace the hard planes of my abdomen.
She leans up, lips brushing mine as she whispers, "I wonder if anyone will notice how the mighty Erik trembles when I whisper in his ear or how hard you get when I accidentally brush against you. Will you be thinking about bending me over the nearest surface every time I lick my lips?"
"You have no idea what you do to me," I murmur, voice rough as sandpaper. I grip her harder against me. "A thousand years of control, shattered by one Valkyrie with a wicked tongue."
I back her against the mirror, one hand sliding up to cradle her throat, feeling her pulse leap beneath my thumb. "I've slaughtered armies without blinking, yet you've brought me to my knees with nothing but a look."
My forehead presses against hers, our breath mingling. "Everyone will know you're mine," I promise, the words scraping from somewhere primal and possessive. "Not because I mark you, but because no man would dare challenge what stands between us."
My thumb traces her lower lip, reverent despite my intensity. "I've waited centuries for you, little bird. I'll tear apart the seven realms to keep you."