Chapter 28 Aura
AURA
Viktoft, Skalor
“Aura, please tell me what's on your mind.”
Since leaving the forest in Geit, Calder has repeatedly asked Aura this question, but she has avoided answering him.
She studies her hands, noting the broken tips of her nails from travel and her constant picking. Since Edmund and Argnier’s arrival, her anxiety has been out of control.
Makt can throw any amount of seidr, and as a halvgud, she can withstand it. However, it's Calder and his enhanced ice powers that truly trouble her.
Even with the upcoming adventure to the temple, one worry keeps her awake at night.
“Once Makt is dead, we end.”
As a young girl, Aura enjoyed sketching images of her future.
As she hungrily devours Calder’s firm protectiveness, gentle spirit, and keen observation skills, she realizes she could never design a more perfect partner.
Her heart burns with an ache that knows all too well the realities of their situation.
Why can I not have this?! She counters in the back of her mind. She craves this unconditional love and devotion from him like a desert craves water.
Why must I only be loved by someone temporarily?
“Why must we end?” His large hand tangles through her curls.
His affection tugs her heart in half. She swallows hard, failing to dispel the thoughts that wish to break her into pieces. “I am Princess Aura Sigvidsson-Redwood, heir to the throne of Treland.” She softly utters the title that has always symbolized her joy and aspiration.
To be a good Queen.
To represent her family.
To make her Pops proud.
At this moment, the only approval she thirsts for is the man watching her intently.
“I cannot lose you, yet I fear your betrayal.”
“I will never betray you, baby girl.” He sits beside her on the bed and holds her against him. “I am not Isabel. And I will not throw you aside after our quest is complete.”
Her curves mold to his hardened muscles, as if the gods crafted them for one another.
Calder’s fingers knot in her curls, tugging her head back so he can devour her mouth. His teeth nip at her lips, intensifying the heat building between her legs at his closeness. She straddles his lap, trusting the man who has repeatedly proven himself to her.
When he finally pulls away, her want for him has her panting. Reflecting in his icy gaze is a hardness, much like when he denied her orgasm upon his throne.
“Remove your clothes.”
Her lips curl of their own accord. “Ask nicely, Jarl Calder.” She teases breathlessly.
With a groan of exhaustion, he leans back on the bed. His fingers intertwine, creating a rest for the back of his head. Those broad shoulders radiate a stoic power that awakens the submissive side she never knew burned within her.
His cold gaze silently assesses the Princess as he rolls his sleeves up to his elbows without breaking his tense focus on hers. She absorbs his inked, coiled muscles, feeling drawn into his dark energy.
A slight tilt of his lips reveals his ability to sense her needs. She stumbles to her feet, her mind swirling with illicit desires of awakening the demon within him once more.
“What shall occur if I disobey you?”
The Iss Drengr remains silent. Instead, he removes his cock, lazily stroking the thick shaft. Never releasing her from his glacial gaze.
Two can play this game, Calder.
Only the crackling of the hearth fire fills the charged silence between them, like a lightning storm brewing on the South Sea.
Wisdom in the scars on his face roots her legs to the floor. A weakness trembles within her, urging her to kneel before him. Her heart begs her to submit to the warrior chief whose power commands respect.
The cheeky sprite and this thirsty submissive he has cultivated within her soul wage a war inside the Princess. At last, her two sides converge, compelling her to taunt him until his darker side surfaces to claim her.
He smirks as if reading her thoughts. “You would look beautiful on your knees, Aura.” The way his lips form her name is a sensation of another realm.
Her hands react as if of their own accord, shedding her tunic and trousers until she is in her undergarments.
“Fully undress, then add more logs to the fire.”
What a strange request.
At the end of the bed, she meets his gaze. It takes all of her control not to peek at his engorged cock. Instead, her thumbs hook inside her undergarments before slowly dropping them to the floor.
“You are gorgeous when you surrender to me.”
She quirks her brow while sliding her hands behind her back, unwrapping her bound chest. The fabric releases her bare breasts, giving her much-needed relief.
Seeing this hardened warrior clutch himself with a furious passion is enough to unravel her senses. His focus roams over her curves with that familiar sense of dark promise. She squeezes her thighs together in anticipation of his mind-bending pleasure.
Once stripped bare, she tosses three more logs onto the fire. Without turning, she observes the flames crackling as they consume the wood.
“Use your seidr to warm the room.” His deep voice conveys a smooth authority.
She fumbles with the nautilus shell, shockingly receiving permission almost before she asks. Her seidr responds instantly. The air in the room warms with a comfort that has undoubtedly never been felt in Skalor.
When she finally approaches the bed, she only wears the Sacred Stone.
“Crawl to me, beautiful girl.”
She sways her hips while kneeling at the edge, not moving toward him. “It seems the Iss Drengr is rarely denied his wants.”
He tilts his head ever so slightly.
“Would be a shame if someone disobeyed you.”
He raises a single brow.
She licks her lips. “Force me to obey, Calder.”
A wicked grin spreads through his beard. When his hand leaves his shaft, she can see his vein prominently exposed like a warning to the young Princess.
“Would you like to know a secret, pretty girl?”
Her heart thuds in her chest as he approaches.
“When I buried deep in your tight pussy in the woods,” the fire in the hearth flickers violently as if succumbing to the sudden chill in the air, “you made my seidr purr.”
He descends on her like an avalanche, burying her in his force. His laughter echoes through her body as his lips nip at her earlobe. “Struggle against the Iss Drengr, and you will feel how starved I am for you.”
He pins her wrists at the base of her spine. She shrieks, feeling his firm lips envelop her neck, his beard lightly tickling her skin as his teeth tug her flesh into his mouth.
“Hush, girl, or everyone in the inn shall hear you give yourself to me.”
With one hand holding her wrists, his teeth and mouth leave no part of her exposed flesh untouched. The ache he leaves behind makes her tremble.
“I have never desired anyone the way I thirst for you.” For a moment, he lets go of her mouth to reach behind and grab something from his pack.
“Is that all?” she questions with a passionate snarl, aware of how wet she has grown for him.
Scratchy rope snakes through her wrists as he secures them at her lower back. He repeats his machinations with her ankles before lifting her body and dropping her into the center of the bed.
She looks up and sees him standing with his hands on his hips, studying her as if he cannot decide where his consumption of her should begin.
“Like what you see?”
He kneels on the bed, spreading her thighs within the restraint of the rope. His teeth scrape along her calves. “Look at you, covered in my marks and dripping with longing,” he ghosts his lips over her clit.
Suddenly, she becomes aware of the heat in their room. Beads of sweat gather on her forehead and glide across her face.
His chuckle only invites more sweat upon her brow. “Feeling hot, Princess?”
She shifts uncomfortably in her bindings.
“Beg me.” His lips suddenly brush against her ear, drawing out a depraved whimper from the Princess. “Beg for my mercy. Beg for my ice.”
She grits her teeth, refusing to comply. His rough fingers slip through her sensitive lips before spearing her entrance. The roughness of his calloused fingers has her groaning under the rising temperature from her own damn seidr.
“Briny?” She cannot believe she is reaching out to her grandpapi with the Iss Drengr’s fingers buried deep inside her.
Calder’s movement catches her gaze, and she realizes the nautilus of Treland now hangs around his neck. “Something wrong, Aura?”
Distracted by the heat, she missed him taking off the pendant, so she couldn't try to cool herself.
However, he won’t get the satisfaction of her surrender.
She worries her bottom lip while shaking her head. However, her struggle is like wind against a mountain.
With a wicked grin on his lips, he begins thrusting his fingers, expertly navigating her pleasure spot.
She shudders from the thrill mingling with the rising heat, despite the trickles of sweat running to her lips.
Suddenly, he releases his machinations against her to walk away and undress.
This moment marks the first time she has truly seen him naked since the hot spring.
Tattoo knots that match those on his arms and chest adorn his thighs. His dense, dark hair covering his body enhances his rugged appearance. Like his chest and face, his legs bear the marks of old battle wounds.
The Iss Drengr lifts her into his arms, positioning her back against his chest as he sits on the bed with his back against the headboard.
His long legs pin hers, bending them at an angle to keep her still.
He gropes her breasts, rolling her perky nipples until her desperate cries of pleasure and the intense heat leave her in tears.
“Such pride, Princess.” He licks the sweat from her neck. “Beg for the ice, baby girl.”
She shakes her head against his chest. The familiar warmth of his body radiates uncomfortably against her back.
“I know you.” The sound of her wetness gliding through his fingers heightens her overstimulated senses. “You’re a Salt girl, through and through. You need that cold. Beg for the cold release!”
He throws her onto her stomach and mounts her, thrusting into her at a punishing pace. Her eyes roll into the back of her head, and three of his fingers stuff into her mouth.
“Quiet!” He grunts in her ear.
Her strained moans persist as he reduces her to a blubbering mess. “Please!” She concedes.
“Please, what?”
“Ice!” She cries the word as if it is her salvation.
Just like that, the air in the room cools, and his frigid fingertips find her clit. She shrieks in relief as he clutches her abdomen while he swirls around her arousal.
“Tell me, girl, whose pussy is this?” His rough grunt rumbles in her ear.
“Yours.” She mumbles through his fingers, and the ruin of his cock buried inside.
“Beg for it!”
“I want to cum on your cock!” Each thrust threatens to shatter her into an unholy bliss.
“Let go, Aura.”
The permission is seemingly all she needs as she contracts around his shaft while he ruts into her pussy. By the time he releases his seed into her, she collapses onto the bed.
He removes her bindings and tugs her against his chest, brushing aside her hair, wet with sweat, clinging to her face. “Whatever is meant to come, know my arms were only ever intended to hold you.”