Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Geirolf
Morning light streams through my bedroom window, casting shadows across Astrid.
She's curled against my side, one leg thrown over mine, her hair a wild tangle across the pillow.
After last night, I'm surprised she's sleeping so peacefully.
I slide out of bed carefully, not wanting to wake her yet.
She needs the rest after everything that's happened.
I mean, speaking to her father like that probably had to be draining.
In the kitchen, I start coffee and pull ingredients from the fridge.
Eggs, bacon, toast—simple but filling.
The domesticity of it hits me as I crack eggs into a bowl.
When was the last time I made breakfast for a woman? Hell, when was the last time I wanted to?
The sizzle of bacon fills the small cabin as I work, already thinking about what might go down today.
We crossed a line by hiding our relationship, but we made a giant leap yesterday.
Now, everyone at the club knows we’re going to be together and there’s nothing anyone can say, or do, that’ll make us change our minds.
In all honesty, her father’s probably the only one who didn’t want the two of us together.
"Something smells amazing."
I turn to find her in the doorway, wearing nothing but my t-shirt.
It hangs to mid-thigh, and her legs are bare, hair tousled from sleep.
My cock stirs at the sight of her.
"Morning, princess," I say, flipping the bacon. "Hungry?"
"Starving." She pads over, wrapping her arms around me from behind.
Her cheek presses against my bare back, and I feel her inhale deeply. "You're spoiling me."
"Get used to it." I plate the eggs and bacon, adding toast to the side. "Coffee's ready."
We eat at my small table, her foot finding mine underneath.
It's comfortable, easy in a way I never expected.
She moans around a bite of bacon, and the sound goes straight to my groin.
"This is perfect," she says, licking grease from her fingers.
"Shower?" I suggest when we're done, already imagining her wet and soapy.
Her eyes darken. "Lead the way."
In the bathroom, I turn on the water, letting it heat while I help her out of my shirt.
She stands naked before me, all soft curves and smooth skin.
I'll never get tired of looking at her.
"You're staring," she says, but she’s not self-conscious like she used to be, not like before.
"Can't help it." I strip off my boxers, my cock already half-hard. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
We step under the spray together, hot water cascading over our bodies.
I grab the shampoo, working it into her hair, massaging her scalp until she's practically purring.
"That feels incredible," she murmurs, eyes closed.
I rinse her hair thoroughly before reaching for the body wash.
This is where I take my time, building a lather between my palms before starting at her shoulders.
I work my way down, paying special attention to her breasts.
They fit perfectly in my hands, full and heavy, nipples pebbling under my touch.
"Geirolf," she breathes as I circle her nipples with soapy fingers.
"Just making sure you're clean," I say innocently, but my cock is hard as a rock now, pressing against her hip.
I continue down, over the soft swell of her belly, the flare of her hips.
Every inch of her is perfect—real, womanly, mine.
When I drop to my knees to wash her legs, she gasps.
"What are you doing?"
"Being thorough," I murmur, running soapy hands up her thighs.
When I part them gently, she complies, bracing herself against the shower wall.
I wash between her legs carefully, but I can feel her trembling.
When I'm done, I press a kiss to her inner thigh before standing.
"Turn around," I instruct, and she does, presenting me with the gorgeous curve of her ass.
I soap her back, working out tiny knots in her shoulders, then move lower.
My hands cup her ass, kneading the flesh, and she pushes back against me.
"You're killing me," she groans.
"Just being attentive," I say, but any bit of control I might have is fading, and fast. "Making sure my woman is taken care of."
When I'm done washing her, she turns in my arms, reaching for the soap. "My turn."
Her small hands on my body are torture and heaven combined.
She explores my chest, tracing scars and ink, before moving lower.
When she wraps a soapy hand around my cock, I hiss through my teeth. "Fuck, Astrid."
She strokes me slowly, base to tip, while her other hand cups my balls.
The combination of hot water, her touch, and the sight of her on her knees has me on edge embarrassingly fast.
"I need to be inside you," I growl, pulling her up.
"Yes," she breathes, and I lift her, pressing her back against the tile wall.
She wraps her legs around my waist as I position myself at her entrance.
One thrust and I'm home, buried deep in her wet pussy.
We both groan at the sensation. "You feel so good," I pant against her neck. "So fuckin’ perfect."
I start to move, slow and deep, savoring every slide in and out of her body.
She clings to me, nails digging into my shoulders, little sounds of pleasure escaping her lips.
"Harder," she demands, and I comply, picking up the pace.
The shower fills with the sounds of our bodies coming together, her cries echoing off the walls.
When I feel her starting to tighten around me, I reach between us to find her clit.
"Come for me, princess," I command. "Let me feel you."
She shatters with a cry of my name, her pussy clenching around my cock.
The sensation triggers my own release, and I bury myself deep as I come, marking her from the inside.
We stay like that for a moment, panting against each other as the water continues to rain down.
When I finally lower her to her feet, her legs are shaky.
"You okay?" I ask, steadying her.
"More than okay," she says with a smile. "Though I might need help walking."
I chuckle, turning off the water and grabbing towels.
As I dry her off, I can't help but worship her body again—the dip of her waist, the fullness of her breasts, the sweet curve of her hips.
"You're the most beautiful woman in the world," I tell her honestly. "Every inch of you is perfect."
She blushes but doesn't deflect the compliment like she used to. That’s progress, and I’ll take it.
An hour later, I'm dropping her off at the spa.
She looks professional again in her work clothes, but I know what's underneath, know the marks I've left on her skin.
"I'll pick you up when you're done," I promise, leaning over to kiss her. "Be careful today."
"You too," she says, concern flickering in her eyes. "Whatever happens at the club..."
"Will be fine," I finish. "Your dad will cool down. So far so good, right?"
She doesn't look convinced, "It hasn’t even been a day, Geirolf."
I shrug, "Maybe not, but it’ll be fine. I love you, and I’ll see you soon."
"Love you too." She goes inside and I watch until she's safely through the door before heading to the clubhouse.
The drive isn’t bad, and before I know it, Bodul is buzzing me through the gate.
The moment I walk in, I know something's up.
Runes is waiting by the bar, his expression grim. "Geirolf, come with me."
I follow him without question, down to the basement where Laken still is.
The moment I hit the bottom step, I spot him—dried blood crusts his face, and all of his fingers are missing nails, but he's conscious, glaring at us with pure hatred.
"Thirty overdoses this weekend," Runes says without missing a beat. "Kids mostly. All from pills traced back to the Patriot's operation."
"Fuck," I mutter.
That's a lot of ODs.
"Cops are hunting him now too, but I want him first," Runes whispers lowly. "You're with Astrid now. Use it to get under his skin. Make this bastard talk."
I nod, understanding the assignment.
I step closer to Laken, letting him get a good look at me.
"Morning, sunshine," I drawl. "Sleep well?"
He spits blood at my feet. "Fuck you."
"That's not very friendly." I pull up a chair, sitting backwards on it. "Especially considering I'm fuckin’ your ex-girlfriend now. The one you couldn't satisfy."
His face shifts with rage. "She's mine?—"
"No," I cut him off. "She's mine. Every inch of her perfect body, every sound she makes when she comes—all mine now."
"You’re trying to get in my fucking head, but you’re not gonna! The Patriot will never stop," Laken snarls. "Not the drugs, not the killing. He wants chaos, wants to fix America one city at a time. Starting with you fuckers."
"Big plans for such a pathetic piece of shit," I observe.
"You don't get it." He laughs, a broken sound. "He's got people everywhere. Cops, politicians, businesses. Your little club is nothing compared to what's coming."
"And yet here you are, tied to a chair, missing fingernails." I lean closer. "While I was balls deep in Astrid this morning, making her scream my name."
Something snaps in his eyes. "I'll kill her," he hisses. "I'll fucking gut that bitch and leave her for?—"
I don't let him finish.
The hammer is in my hand before I even realize I've grabbed it, coming down on his skull with a wet crunch.
Once, twice, three times, until his head is caved in, brain matter and blood splattered across the concrete.
I turn to find Fenrir and Emil watching from the stairs, both of them with raised eyebrows.
" That is what I'm prepared to do for your daughter," I tell Fenrir, adrenaline coursing through my veins. "I’ll do it again, and again, and again for her. Can you really be bothered that a man like me is the one protectin’ her from harm?"
Fenrir studies Laken’s dead body and then me.
Something passes between us. I wouldn’t say it’s acceptance, but maybe we finally have a sense of understanding.
"I wish you didn’t fuckin’ kill him, but he was pretty fuckin’ useless at this point anyways," Runes grunts. "Go get a damn shower. You've got blood all over you."
I nod, heading for the stairs.
My hands are steady as I climb, though my mind is a mess.
I just killed a man with my bare hands for threatening Astrid, and I'd do it again without hesitating in the slightest bit.
The others follow me up, everyone processing what just happened.
I'm halfway to the bathroom when Gwen bursts through the front door, her face pale.
"Runes!" she calls, phone in hand. "There's been an explosion. They're searching the house now."
"What house?" Runes demands.
She looks at her phone again. "524 Oakwood Drive. Isn't that?—"
"Kraken and Magnolia's place," Runes confirms, his face going grim.
My blood runs cold.
Fenrir voices what we're all thinking. "Anyone seen Kraken or Magnolia today? The kids?"
Everyone’s silent, and the last time I remember seeing them was yesterday.
"Fuck," someone mutters, and we're all moving at once, heading for our bikes.
As I wash Laken's blood from my hands in the sink, I can't help but think this is just the beginning.
The Patriot and his men are escalating, and now he's targeting club families directly.
He can try to hurt us, but I'll kill every last one of them before I let them touch her.