Chapter ten #2
I wove my fingers through his hair, the ashen strands soft and still slightly damp. His eyes darkened, and he resumed his attention on my neck. “Do you regret it?”
Regret what? he asked in my mind, his lips too preoccupied to form the words.
“Killing him.”
Arik stilled, studying me. “Do you wish I hadn’t, Kjaere?”
I shook my head, pressing my lips to his in reassurance. “I told you then that I was glad you did it. My opinion hasn’t changed.”
“Then why ask?” He held me slightly away from him, a frown creasing his brow above his nose.
“Because it led us here.” I stroked my thumb over his cheekbone, admiring the way the light from the fireplace danced across the tattoos on his scalp. “To face your father and your brother and memories I know you’d rather not face.”
Arik’s expression cleared as he pulled me flush against him and pressed his lips back to mine in a firm, consuming kiss. Nothing is too difficult to face with you beside me, Kjaere.
I sighed into him, feeling heat curl in my belly as Idunn rumbled her approval.
Idunn liked watching you this afternoon.
Only Idunn? Arik’s eyes gleamed silver as he pulled me atop him and lay back into the pillows.
His hands slid beneath the nightgown and traveled up my thighs, leaving goosebumps in the wake of his calluses on my flesh.
He growled as he found me bare underneath.
I take it back. This nightgown is glorious.
She enjoyed watching Arne too, I teased, nipping at his lower lip as he squeezed my backside.
I don’t want to hear you thinking of my uncle right at this moment. He moved his mouth back to my neck and sucked so hard I knew I would bruise. Or ever.
Arik tugged firmly on the hem of the nightgown and pulled it up over my head, throwing it carelessly to the floor. At least it was in one piece.
He sucked in a breath, stilling as he held my hips in place.
“Who did this to you?” His eyes had turned to silver slits as he caught sight of the purpling bruise in a thick line across my thigh.
“Branka. She caught me with the stick when we were sparring earlier.”
I heard Baldur growl so loudly, the shutters on the windows rattled.
I’m fine, I soothed, running my fingers over his scalp and through his hair as I pressed kisses across his chest. It barely even hurts.
“I don’t like that Idunn’s magic won’t fix this,” he said, his hand pressing over the bruise. I sucked in a yelp as I felt a pulse of heat, Baldur’s magic flowing over the marred purple streak.
“Stop that.” Aside from shifting into the fire-breathing beasts, this was the only other magic I knew the drage possessed, and it only worked on mates who shared a soul bond.
I had healed Arik with Idunn’s magic before, but his injuries had been life threatening, and it was extremely draining. “Arik.”
He lifted his hand, the bruise having faded to a muddy brown. I laughed at his look of irritation and pressed my forehead to his. You can’t fix me, Kjaere.
I never called him the nickname, which meant something along the lines of ‘beloved’, out loud.
It felt too intimate. Too much of something I wasn’t yet ready for.
But mind to mind, it wasn’t quite as terrifying, and it seemed to soothe some jagged edge in him that formed whenever he saw me sick or injured.
“Idunn was supposed to fix this,” he conceded, lifting a hand to weave his fingers through my hair and cup the back of my head. “The Chaos was supposed to heal you.”
Dragons are not supposed to do anything, Idunn rumbled indignantly.
None of that. I ignored Idunn and pushed Arik back against the pillows until I was straddling him. I was completely bare above him, and his need had grown thick and hard beneath the cover that hid his lower half. You’re not to pity me. Not tonight.
I pressed a kiss to the spot where the thick line of a tattoo grazed the top of his nipple, and I felt him shudder against me.
The fact that I could make a man like Arik—a warrior who felled at least twelve men today and barely broke a sweat—shudder was an intoxicating feeling.
Idunn stirred excitedly, sending heat to my core as I continued to press kisses down the length of his stomach and over the ridges of muscle in his abdomen. I suppose I shall forgive his impertinence.
“Kjaere.” Arik’s voice was hoarse, a plea and a question as I flicked my gaze up to meet his.
I continued kissing downward, pulling the sheet with me to reveal the trail of ashen hair that led below his navel.
His head fell back against the pillows, and I smiled against his warm skin. “Fucking Norns. Please keep going.”
I laughed against him as I worked my way down.
It would not be the first time I had taken him in my mouth, but I wasn’t an expert by any means.
I was clumsy and more than a little uncertain, but the way he twitched in my hand as I grasped his firm length and the growl of need coming from Idunn gave me the confidence to continue.
He was salt and smoke, and he shuddered again as I licked my way up his shaft and over his head, already beading with desire.
I thought you didn’t believe in the Norns? I teased, my mouth full of the taste of him.
He sucked in a breath as I worked my tongue over the sensitive head. “I’ll fucking believe anything you tell me to, Kjaere.”
I smiled around him, grazing his skin with the very edge of my teeth. It was too much for him. He pulled me up roughly, pulling my mouth to his as he fumbled for a moment before sliding inside me.
He growled as he found me wet and warm and ready.
I need to come inside you, Kjaere. His voice mixed with Baldur’s as he thrust, his words growing unsteady as he claimed my mouth. Inside this tight pussy that was made for me by the gods or the fates or whatever force granted me you.
Heat bloomed across my abdomen as pleasure built in me, as sure and steady as his thrusts—so hard and insistently that the decorative shields on the wall behind the bed thumped in time with his movements.
I desperately wished I were toppling over the edge with him as he came, his sweat-slicked brow pressed to mine as he groaned. But it was enough to guide him through his pleasure. To reassure him that I was well, and that we were one.
Idunn hissed a protest as he slowed, and Baldur must have relayed her frustration. Arik let out a breathless laugh, kissing me once more before flipping us over so quickly I didn’t realize what he was doing until his head was already between my thighs.
Lest you think I could ever leave you wanting. He pressed two fingers into me, forcing his spill back inside me in a way that was so erotic I thought Idunn might escape my skin.
More, she demanded, her voice an echo in my head as I groaned in pleasure, his fingers filling the part of me that was too empty. Still wanting.
My mate is greedy, Baldur growled approvingly as Arik’s tongue teased my clit, and he pressed his fingers deeper. She will have twice our pleasure.
Three times, if I can manage it, Arik corrected, beginning the slow and steady torment that he knew would be my undoing.
I moaned, the sound a guttural cry of need as he worked his fingers and his tongue against and within me. I can’t…I had to bite my lip to stop from crying out more loudly. People will hear.
Let them. He stroked his tongue in a circle around the sensitive bud as he slid his hands up my body to cup my breast. He rolled my nipple between his fingers, and I almost shattered right then and there. Let them hear how I fuck my mate. How I claim you.
It was too much as Idunn and Baldur met on the bridge between our minds, their energies pulsing in time with Arik’s fingers. I shuddered around him, trying to keep my noises contained to the walls of our room despite Arik’s urging.
Arik licked me through my pleasure, the waves subsiding to a dull roar against my mind before starting to climb toward another glittering peak.
That’s right, Kjaere. Arik’s voice was one with Baldur’s, his eyes slitted silver as he watched me from between my thighs. Again.