Chapter 7 #2
Can’t what? I’m not sure, because I barely get it out of my mouth before an orgasm crashes into me so hard I see stars.
My pussy desperately clenches on his tongue, but that doesn’t slow him down.
He strokes my g-spot like he’s addicted to it while what he truly seems to be addicted to freely flows into his mouth.
“Oh, god, that feels… so good,” I whimper as the pleasure from the orgasm wanes, just in time for his speedy tongue to force another one. “Fuck!”
My hips jerk and Erik keeps licking. Keeps stroking. Keeps drinking.
Then the orgasms seem to chain together, as fast as the tongue moving against my fluttering walls. After several hit in quick succession, Erik starts to pull away, but I don’t let him. I grab a chunk of his hair with my other hand, riding his tongue shamelessly while I orgasm again and again.
“You’ve turned her into a greedy girl,” Ivar chuckles. “Just look at how she begs for it.”
“Yes, please, please,” I beg, still orgasming. “Don’t stop!”
He plunges his tongue into me, giving exactly what I’m asking for. Incredible bliss. Heart-pounding ecstasy. His tongue doesn’t stop moving until my muscles get weak and I can no longer keep a grip on his hair.
My hips ease into the mattress. My legs shake but go weak.
My arms fall to my sides, bringing strands of Erik’s hair with me.
I try to focus my vision, but it’s blurry.
I feel like I’ve been destroyed, then devoured, and there’s still one mate left.
One that is growling with so much desperate need, he sounds more like a wild animal than a man.
“Our mate is as insatiable as we are,” Erik laughs as he moves away from me.
“I sure as fuck hope so,” Sigurd growls, taking Erik’s spot on the bed.
My vision finally focuses. Sigurd is bigger than his brothers. Taller, wider, and his armor barely contains his muscular physique.
“You better be ready for me, little girl,” he intones, leaning closer. “Because I’ve been waiting a long, long fucking time.”
“For a mate?” I ask, watching as he lowers himself between my legs.
“For you,” he rumbles.
Sigurd puts a hand on each of my thighs, then pushes down, spreading me so wide I grimace with pain as he stretches me. I can feel the stretch along my pelvis, in my hips, and even in my pussy. He’s so big and strong, I’m pinned to the mattress, barely even able to squirm.
“And for this,” Sigurd adds, leaning down.
I only feel his hot breath for a second before I feel his tongue.
He doesn’t lick. He doesn’t tease my clit.
He forces his tongue into me, and it’s bigger than Ivar’s or Erik’s.
No slow, deliberate strokes. No fast, furious movement.
He just jams it in, then starts roughly thrusting, like he’s testing how much I can take, because his tongue isn’t what he really wants to shove inside me.
The thrusts get deeper and deeper until I realize he’s not just bigger than his brothers.
He’s longer, too. His tongue goes so deep it hurts, but I can’t stop him.
I can barely even breathe. Every hammering thrust of his tongue makes me cry out when I finally get some oxygen in my lungs, but only the few cries are from pain, because then it starts to feel good.
The ache builds into a familiar pressure.
“I’m gonna come!” I breathe out, unable to squirm, so all I can do is take it.
Sigurd growls and grunts like he can’t get enough of me as I orgasm, his tongue lapping up my juices as fast as he can while maintaining the hard rhythm. It plunges into me over and over, deeper, harder, and I struggle to hold it together.
“Now Sigurd’s the greedy one,” Ivar says.
“We’ve had a taste of her,” Erik smiles. “We know exactly how hard it is to stop once you get it.”
“Damn right we do,” Ivar sighs.
The Viking’s tight grip on my thighs makes it impossible for me to writhe or squirm.
My back barely arches because of how hard he’s holding me down.
His tongue is fast, furious, and devastating, but despite his roughness, my body still reacts to it.
He drags his tongue to my clit, flicks against it, then plunges right back into me, which makes me scream.
“Sigurd!” I cry out, orgasming again from his rough, steady thrusts.
It doesn’t feel like he’s drinking from me.
It feels like he’s feasting on my pussy, and he’s a starving man.
Hungry for me. Desperate to taste every climax.
I don’t get to offer them, because he just forces them out of my exhausted body, every twitch of my hips eliciting a growl from him as I come on his tongue.
“Oh, oh, I’ve come so many times it hurts,” I gasp, my pussy clenching his tongue as he forces me to come again.
The orgasms rock my body like I’m being slung from one to the next, but I never move on the bed. I stay pinned down, my pussy aching every time he drags more pleasure out of me. But despite the ache, it still feels good. I scream his name again and again, helplessly climaxing into his hungry mouth.
When the hard thrusts finally stop, I feel boneless.
Weightless. Like there’s nothing left inside my body, and I’m floating on the bed, instead of being pressed into it.
That’s certainly how it feels when he finally moves his hands from my thighs and I rise at least a foot as I’m finally released from his vise-like grip.
“That was just the beginning, mate,” Sigurd announces. “We’re far from finished.”
I’m mentally unraveled. Not broken, but pieces of me are scattered like my limbs on the bed. I don’t have the energy to resist. Don’t have the willpower to fight.
They can do anything they want to me.
And I have no doubt that they will.