by Nora Ash
“By her side is fine. But if you remain inside of her for much longer, you’re going to experience what the Lokissons have already,” Modi growled, shattering the peaceful moment. One look at him made it plenty obvious that watching Annabel come again had pushed his patience over the edge for good.
Magni chuffed through his nose. “Relax, will you? I’m still seeding her.”
“I don’t care,” Modi said, and from the roughened sound of his voice it was clear he was telling the truth. “I want her. Now.”
Magni bared his teeth at his brother’s aggression, but he didn’t have the fire to follow through, thanks to the clamp of Annabel’s pussy. “Fine. But I’ll take the lightning. Keep your fingers out of my asshole.”
Modi didn’t respond—he just knelt behind the pair and reached forward. Lightning flashed, and Magni jerked hard and spat out a string of curses. Another flash of lightning had him howling and rolling off Annabel. When he glared at his brother, there was murder in his eyes, but Modi paid him no mind. He sank down on top of our prone mate with a shudder.
“Anna,” he murmured, lifting one of her legs over his hips to ease her onto his cock. She gasped at the immediate penetration, but Modi was gentler than the rest of us had been. He pushed into her inch by slow inch, rubbing small circles on her clit with his free hand to ease the sensation of his entry. Only when he was fully seated within her did he leave her sensitive bud to reach for her face instead.
“I waited a lifetime for you, my mate. Don’t ever leave me again.”
“I won’t,” she said, pushing her chin into his palm, eyes closed. “Never again.”
Modi’s pain came slower to us than Magni’s. He was hesitant, but he didn’t fight it in the end. There was such shame in his relationship to his family—in his love for a mother who had hated his brother, and his worship of a father who might not have deserved it.
But the deepest scar for Modi was still fresh and pink and smarting at the edges. He hadn’t thought Annabel loved him—still found it hard to truly believe, even though he himself had fully surrendered to the Fate that had been woven for him. He saw himself as an outsider in our little group—someone expendable.
Annabel’s essence flared as that particular thought filtered through. Fury filled our bond—fury and a love so intense it made Modi’s hips stutter mid-thrust.
“You still believe this nonsense?” she growled. “How can you still think such things? You are mine, Modi. Mine.”
She pushed at his shoulders, and he let her roll them over, leaving Annabel on top. She straightened her back, placed her palms flat on his pecs, and stared down at him.
“What will it take for you to hear me, mate?” she asked. “Just the thought of you gone, of our connection permanently silenced… It makes me want to die. You are not expendable. You are mine.”
With that last, growled word, Annabel rolled her hips, letting her pussy rise along the proud column of his flesh embedded within her. Her lower lips clung to him, showing the rim of his head bulging through the thin flesh before she sank back down with a moan.
“Mine!” she repeated. She dug her nails into his chest, but Modi seemed too far gone to feel it. His eyes were half-hooded and filled with worship and desire, and though we all felt his simmering alpha instincts fighting against letting his female put him in such a submissive position, he let her ride.
Annabel loved it. It may have started as an urge to show her troubled mate that she wanted him, but there was no hiding the rush of elation weaving through our bond. She moaned shamelessly as she rode him—a wild warrior queen taking what she wanted from the men who worshipped her.
A goddess.
The word flickered through my mind and settled in my chest as I watched her rise and fall on that thick cock, and I doubted even Freya could have mastered five alphas the way our mate did now.
Her pussy still clung tightly to Modi’s hard flesh, though the shine on the rigid pole left the unmistakable proof that our mate was an omega and built to take us. All of us.
My own cock throbbed painfully at the sight of their joining, more than eager to return to those hallowed depths, and I gritted my teeth to resist the building urgency in my abdomen. Even if I somehow managed to hold back until Modi was done, it would come to a fight if I tried to have her again before Bjarni took his turn to reunite with her.
I was halfway through planning how to overpower my battle-hardened brother and somehow keep him restrained while I took Annabel again when my mate let out a particularly deep moan, and a memory struck me. I’d seen her straddling a man once before. In Freya’s Hall, she’d been astride Magni when Bjarni and I arrived—but she hadn’t been alone.
I narrowed my eyes as my plan veered down another path. Modi had asked about that incident—perhaps he’d like a demonstration instead?
And if not, he would have to accept it as payment for how he’d gone about releasing my knot.
I moved behind Annabel to kneel between Modi’s sprawled legs. She chirped happily when I reached around her to grab her breasts, another moan spilling from her lips as I rolled her pert little nipples between my fingers and bent my head to lick at her neck.
“You are the only woman who could do this, mate,” I murmured hoarsely in her ear as I let one hand slip from her breast to her clit. She eagerly spread her thighs to let me rub it. “Bring five gods to their knees and make them worship you in their surrender. Do you feel powerful, Annabel? Because you are. Let me worship you like you deserve to be, mate. Please.”
Annabel’s response was an unintelligible, but enthusiastic groan, and I hid a smile against the side of her neck as she leaned back into me.
“So eager, little goddess,” I whispered against the shell of her ear. I stroked my hand not busy on her clit down to anchor on her hip. “Be strong for me now.”
I pushed her forward with the bulk of my torso, making her lean over and rest on top of Modi, stilling her movements on him, and released her clit to reach for my throbbing cock.
Neither of them seemed to clock on to my intentions before I guided the tip of my erection to the root of their joining and pressed forward.
“Shit, that’s cold!” Modi hissed as our members touched.
Annabel jerked hard and whipped her head around to stare at me over her shoulder. “What are you—no! Nope! Absolutely n—nnngh!”
Her protests died on a drawn-out groan, every muscle in her body tensing as I managed to wedge my head into her already stuffed opening.
Everything was pressure, heat… ecstasy. I felt Modi through the bond, the pleasure roaring through his veins as violently as it tore through my own body, and in between us… Annabel.
She sobbed, her entire body trembling with the effort of taking us both as her pussy slowly, reluctantly adjusted to the harsh stretch. Her fists were tight and clutching onto the grass, knuckles white, and I knew there was more than an edge of pain for her.
I mumbled soothing words of encouragement into her ear and reached down to gently stroke her clit while I held still and waited for her body to adjust.
“What… in Odin’s name… are you doing, Lokisson?” Modi panted between gritted teeth. He was clutching at Annabel’s hips—whether to ensure she didn’t try to move off us, or to anchor himself, I didn’t know.
“Mating my woman,” I rasped. “Showing you how your brother bonded with mine.”
Modi’s eyes widened even as he swallowed a groan at an involuntary spasm traveling up the length of Annabel’s sheath, transplanting into the both of us. I didn’t give him time to protest. Slowly, agonizingly, I pushed my hips forward and drove my cock home.
Annabel’s wail drowned in Modi’s roar as I rubbed along his meaty dick until I was finally fully seated within my mate. She seized hard, and I hugged her tight and tried to soothe her, but only ragged grunts escaped my throat. My vision swam, turning Annabel’s messy hair into ribbons of bronze and white, and all I could sense was how tight her pussy clutched me, how ho
t Modi’s cock felt against mine, and how completely the sensation of both took my breath away. My heart pounded in my ears, and my soul was a swirling vortex of pleasure and him, with Annabel as our center.
I moved on instinct alone, pulling halfway out and drawing howls from both Annabel and Modi. But when I forced my way back up inside again, Modi pulled halfway out, drawing a shudder from my body at the slick sensation of his cock moving against mine. He pushed in, and I drew back, again and again, the seesaw rhythm building between us as naturally as drawing breath, even as our mate screamed and cursed our names right up until she came so hard it hurt.
Modi swore too and stilled as her muscles rippled and clamped down, forcing us to pause while she cried out, ecstasy crashing through our bond.
It lasted almost a full minute before she collapsed on Modi’s chest in a boneless heap.
He looked up at me, locking his gaze on mine for a short moment before heat tinged his cheeks. “She’s had enough. Pull out.”
Saga snorted. “She can take plenty more cock than that, Thorsson. Or are you not enjoying the experience as much as your brother did?”
“I didn’t enjoy anything!” Magni protested. “You forced it on me!”
“Ha! You looked to enjoy it plenty when we arrived. I remember a spectacular amount of cum when Saga milked your knot dry,” Bjarni said.
I didn’t hear Magni’s reply—I tuned them all out as I stared back at Modi. “You can pull out, if you’ve had enough.” I didn’t wait for him to respond before I gave Annabel another thrust.
Modi hissed and Annabel whimpered, but she wasn’t as painfully tight after her climax, and pleasure crawled through my nerves and into our bond. I only managed one more stroke before Modi joined me, once more taking up the seesaw rhythm that had us both groaning.
It took a while for Annabel to give in. She was still fighting us through her second orgasm and halfway to her third, cursing and clawing in between sobs and mewls of pleasure, but we both felt the truth in our bond. Despite her resistance, her omega instincts had her pussy gushing and pleasure throbbing down our connection with every rough push through her trembling channel.
But somewhere between orgasms, her threats of murder and mutilation shifted to pleas for more.
“You surrender so prettily,” Modi growled. “My perfect little omega whore.”
I might have been furious at another male using such language for my mate, but Annabel’s response was a moaned, “Yes,” followed by a ripple along the sheath of her pussy that made it plenty obvious she didn’t mind. In fact, every growled vulgarity edged her closer to another climax—and both of us along with her, thanks to the rhythmic pulses of her slick muscles around our cocks.
“Look at you, omega—so desperate for sex you allow two alphas to open your little cunt horribly wide. Is this what you would have been, had Fate allowed it? Nothing but a whore for alpha cock, bending over to be violated in exchange for pleasure?” Modi hissed against her ear as he thrust up hard, rubbing his cock deliciously against the both of us.
I groaned along with Annabel, and then cussed when her pussy clamped tight and she reared up against me.
Mindlessly I reached between us to rub her clit through her orgasm, but the shuddering release was too much to bear. I felt my own knot start to swell just as Modi hissed, “Shit! I’m gonna—”
It took everything I had to pull out, leaving her spasming pussy to be plugged by her other mate. He fucked up into her hard a few more times, then forced his knot past her pelvic bone with a roar of release.
Her responding cry undid me. Trembling, I rested one hand on her thigh and jerked my cock roughly once, twice—
My groan mixed with Annabel’s and Modi’s climax, that all-consuming rush of ecstasy swirling through our connection and deep into my soul.
I slumped by Modi’s side, sliding my hand from Annabel’s thigh, up her hip, and to her shoulder as I shivered through the final echoes of orgasm.
Modi’s kernel came in the afterglow. Deep blue and glowing, it rose from him and sank into our mate as she lay unconscious on his chest. I wasn’t sure exactly when she’d passed out, but the realization shot a jab of fear through my haze.
I forced myself up on an elbow and brushed her hair from her eyes. “Annabel?”
“She is not hurt,” Modi murmured. He petted her scalp and smiled gently when she made a soft sound in response, despite her unconscious state. “Just exhausted. Our mate is tougher than she looks.”
Our mate.
“She is,” I whispered. “Tough enough to bring five gods to their knees.”
“Five gods—and Ragnarök itself,” he agreed.
Twenty-Five
Annabel
You know how they say you know you’re not dead if something hurts? Yeah, that’s a load of bullshit. Turns out, you very much can feel pain even when you’re dead, as my vagina bore testament to it the moment consciousness returned.
“You guys really need to stop doing that,” I croaked into whoever’s chest I was lying on.
It was Bjarni’s, it turned out, his deep laughed rumbling underneath me and into my bones. His lips skimmed my forehead as he hugged me gently. “You don’t mean that.”
“I really, really do,” I grumbled. “God, it feels like I’ve been run over by a horny bull.”
“Wrong pantheon,” Modi hummed from somewhere behind me. He rested a large, warm hand against my lower back, and I sighed at the immediate relaxation in my sore muscles. They were all so wonderfully warm. I’d relished Grim’s chill in the sensory deprivation of Hel, but the other four had retained their natural body heat. Perks of not actually being dead, I guessed.
I forced my neck muscles into action and twisted my head to look at Modi. He sat cross-legged by Bjarni’s shoulder, still gloriously naked from when he’d been inside me. I wasn’t entirely sure how long I’d been out, but it couldn’t have been too long, or the sticky mess I felt clinging to my lower lips would have dried up. “Are you okay?”
He smiled, a soft touch to his lips as he moved his hand from my back to my cheek. “Yeah. I’m okay, Anna. More than okay.”
I felt the truth of his words in the pleasured hum in my chest where his warm bond hooked. There was no more doubt there, no more fear—just deep, eternal devotion.
Motion to his side caught my attention, and I locked eyes with Grim. There was concern in his gaze as he looked me over. “Are you all right?”
I quirked an eyebrow at him. “You didn’t seem all that concerned about that before.”
He frowned, and a spark of guilt fluttered through our connection.
Groaning with the effort, I reached an arm out and smiled when my fingers interlocked with Grim’s. “I’m fine. Sore, but fine.”
I was going to say more—voice my astonishment at how thoroughly he’d gotten on board with the whole sharing aspect—but one look into his mismatched eyes and I knew it wasn’t the right time. It was still so new to him, my wounded mate, and I was just grateful that he had allowed himself to let go.
I squeezed his hand with what little strength I could muster and sent a wave of gratitude through our bond.
“Does that mean you’re done resting, then?” Bjarni asked.
I chuffed a weak laugh. “Not even close. I’m going to sleep for at least twenty-four hours, or however long it takes my poor vagina to reshape itself.”
“Hmm,” the blond Viking rumbled. His muscles bunched underneath me as he leaned up on one elbow to rub his nose along my scalp. “I’m afraid I can’t wait that long, sweetie. You and your vagina are gonna have to rally.”
I groaned and rolled my eyes back to meet his. “You’re kidding me? You didn’t…?
“While you were unconscious?” he asked, eyebrows high on his forehead. “You think that little of me?”
There was just an edge of genuine hurt to his voice, even if he tried to play it off as humor.
Which was fair enough. I grimaced and released Grim to str
oke a soothing hand over Bjarni’s pecs. “Of course not. I’m sorry—I’m just… so exhausted.”
“That’s okay,” he hummed, instantly mollified. “You just lie back and enjoy it, hmm?”
I whined, perhaps not the most articulate of protests, but the only thing I could manage as Bjarni gently rolled me off his chest and onto the flattened grass, shifting his massive body to rest between my thighs.
My blond mate chuckled at my pathetic whimper. “Can’t very well save the nine worlds without your last mate’s powers,” he chided before he pushed himself down to lay flat on his stomach.
Despite the exhausted state of my core, my pussy gave a small twinge when his plans dawned on me.
“How very selfless of you,” I said. What should have been sarcasm died on a long groan as he pushed his mouth to my slit and dove his tongue in to tease my still-swollen and tender clit.
Despite my well-worn muscles’ aching protests, it didn’t take Bjarni long to bring me back to a simmer. Soon I was panting his name and moving my hips in restless waves against his skilled mouth, a rising orgasm battling the tissues too overstimulated to allow an easy surrender.
But Bjarni was not one to be defeated—not on the battlefield, and not atop me. When I grasped at his hair and whined for him to stop, he only clasped his huge hands around my thighs and sucked hard on my clit, trapping it in vacuum.
“Bjarni!” I shrieked, thrashing in his grip as I bucked for freedom. “No, no, n—unnnnhhhhhooly shit!”
My body seized hard as pleasure burst through me, forcing every nerve to spark. I shrieked and sobbed at the agony of it, but there was no stopping the thundering wave crashing through my flesh and into my mind until there was nothing left but hazy bliss and my own, panting breaths.
Bjarni eased off my clit and kissed my mons. “Feeling better?” he rumbled, the edge of raw desire unmistakable in his tone as he crawled on hands and knees over my splayed form.