by PJ Friel
The man devouring my mouth now offered no such asylum and he gave no quarter, not even to his allies. If I handed myself over to this Trygg, he wouldn’t allow me to hide anymore. He would rip down my walls and leave me bare, force me to fight my demons.
Fight or die.
The thought thrilled me.
But what if I became the very thing I fought against?
Trygg might end up the one lying broken on the battlefield if that happened, and frankly, I was certain it would. Fear wasn’t the only thing I felt when the sun’s rays disappeared over the horizon. There was a tiny, rotten, whispering part of me that reveled in the dying of the light each day. My despised Svartalf heritage.
This had to stay just sex. For his safety even more so than my own.
Besides, I’d ruined any true chance of ever having something meaningful with Trygg and I’d done it in this very office. I had ripped something out of him that he never would have shared with someone like me. There was no sense in trying to pretend that I hadn’t seen the chinks in his armor. He’d never trust me again, and with good reason.
We were combatants now, and it was time for me to start acting like it.
I reached back and swiped everything off my desk.
He pulled his mouth off mine, breathing hard. “There went your lo mein.”
“I’ll buy more.” I shoved him and his butt hit the edge of my desk. “Take off your clothes.”
He pulled out his wallet with steady hands and removed a condom. His calmness infuriated me. I clenched my own hands to stop the shaking. Allowing him to see how much he affected me would be a mistake. His gaze met mine and there was a question in his eyes as he handed the foil package to me.
Are you sure you want this?
Speech was beyond me. I unbuckled his belt and opened his pants.
“Touch me,” he whispered, hips thrust forward.
I shook my head and dragged his pants down his thighs. “You haven’t earned it.”
Ever helpful, Trygg slipped off his shoes and socks and let me finish removing his trousers. I tossed them on the chair and dove for the hem of his shirt. This wouldn’t work unless he was naked, vulnerable, under my hands, and at the mercy of my mouth. I shivered at the thought of tasting his skin.
His shirt joined his pants and I ran my hands over the black boxer briefs that clung to his muscular thighs and thick cock. He grabbed my hips and dragged me forward, pressing me tightly between his spread legs and against that hard ridge. A whimper tore from my throat and I thrust against him.
“How do I earn it?”
My teeth sinking into his bottom lip was my only answer, and the only thing that kept me from telling him he already had and then begging him to toss me on the desk and pound into me. Begging was what other people did.
Weak people, not me. Never me.
He tugged loose from my mouth and nibbled up my neck. Hot breath caressed my ear. “I want to see you.”
He started to raise my shirt, but I grabbed his hands. The thought of his mouth on my breasts made me ache, but the light was too bright in my office, even with the blinds drawn. I couldn’t bear for him to see the scars on my stomach, didn’t want to answer questions or see the desire in his eyes turn to pity.
Plus, if his searing-hot mouth closed around me, I was screwed...in every sense of the word. I needed to control this. With a shove, I sent Trygg sprawling backwards onto my desk. He let out an oof and a husky laugh. His abs tightened as he drew up and rested on his elbows, his green eyes roaming over my body like a caress. I returned the favor with my lips, delighting when he groaned loudly.
“God, your mouth…” He ran a hand through my hair, cupping my head, but not rushing me towards his throbbing, cloth-covered cock, even though I knew he wanted to.
His skin tasted like every decadent dessert I denied myself. Today, I gorged on him, licking and sucking down his stomach until finally, I could rub my lips against his hard cock. I wanted him in my mouth, was desperate to taste him on my tongue.
“Lift your hips,” I rasped as I latched onto the waistband of his boxer briefs.
He caught my wrists. “I want to see you first. Please.”
“I said, lift your hips.” My need got the better of me.
For a moment, I thought he’d refuse. His brows drew together and his gaze battled mine. Finally, he released my wrists and trailed a finger along my jaw. “Okay, baby. Whatever you need.”
I swallowed hard against the lump of emotion his gentle tone caused and focused on dragging his underwear off his hips and down his muscular thighs. He gripped his cock, palm sliding against the rigid length while he watched me.
I slapped his hand away. “Mine,” I said, replacing his grip with my own hand and mouth.
“Fuck!” He arched up off the desk and the head of his cock brushed the back of my throat.
I pulled back and stroked him as I licked the underside of his shaft. Pre-cum beaded on the tip and I swiped it off with one long lick.
“You taste so good.” I stroked his cock faster and licked into the slit, hungry for more of him.
“If you keep doing that, I’m not going to last.” He fisted his hand in my hair and pulled me up. “I need inside you, Bryn.”
My clit throbbed. “Yes.”
Releasing him, I unbuttoned my jeans and yanked them and my thong over my hips as I flipped off my shoes. I left my shirt on and hoped that he wouldn’t push the issue. There was a sound of foil ripping and then Trygg rolled the condom over his cock.
“I’m gonna ride you so hard.” I crawled up onto the desk and straddled him.
Trygg rubbed the head of his cock against my clit and I shuddered. A teasing grin curled his lips as he slid his cock back and forth through my wet folds. My hips jerked, chasing the slick glide of him against that sensitive bundle of nerves. Then I felt him line up with my opening and his hands grabbed my hips. He yanked me down as he thrust up.
I lost my mind.
Screaming, I bucked against him, met his powerful thrust and ground against him. I had never been so full or felt so whole. Behind me, his feet pulled up on the desk, giving him the leverage to pound into me. And holy mother did he pound me. Skin slapped against skin and our moans filled the room.
“Harder. Oh, god. Give it to me harder.”
I spread my legs as far as the desk would allow then collapsed forward on my elbows. My lips pressed against his chest in open-mouth kisses and my teeth closed over a nipple, biting hard enough to earn a slap on the butt.
“Kiss me while I fuck you. I wanna swallow your screams when you come.”
I swiped my tongue over the nipple, soothing the sting, then fastened my mouth onto his. As his cock slid in and out of my pussy, my tongue made love to his mouth. Breath and spit mingled with whimpers and groans.
I tried to keep him from owning my body. Proof that I’d failed was my shirt and bra hitting the floor via my own hand. I needed all of him touching all of me. As long as I pressed against him, he wouldn’t see the scars on my belly.
“Oh, yes, baby,” he praised me. “You feel so good. Those sweet nipples rubbing against my chest and that tight pussy gripping me.”
All I could do was nod as every thrust carried me higher and every word pulled me deeper under his spell. “Trygg.” His name left my lips on a whimper.
“I’ve got you.” He wrapped his arms tightly around me, locking me to him as he hammered into me faster. Then he asked for the impossible. “Let go.”
I shook my head, tried to pull away, take back the control I’d given him when I’d stripped naked. He cupped my face, forced me to look into his eyes. That light I thought I’d stolen was back in his gaze.
“I’m right here, Bryn,” he whispered, trying to pull my lips down to his even as I locked my elbows against him, more afraid of his kiss than exposing my scars. “Stay with me, sweetheart.”
Need coiled tight in my belly and when he traced his thumb over my lip, I gave into it. I dropped aga
inst him again and poured everything I had into the kiss that shattered me. My pussy tightened and then throbbed around him. Stars danced across the back of my tightly closed eyelids, little pinpoints of light against the darkness. I poured my screams into his mouth and he swallowed them, just like he’d promised.
His hips thrust up once, twice, then locked as he pulsed inside me. “So beautiful. So goddamn beautiful,” he panted against my mouth.
I buried my face against his neck. His pulse throbbed against my cheek in time with my own heartbeat. Was it sweat or my tears that wet his skin? I wasn’t sure. All I knew was that I’d been a fool to believe that I could allow this man inside my body and walk away unscathed.
Just as I’d feared, I was screwed. In every sense of the word.
CHAPTER 19
TRYGG
“Do you always drive like this?”
Bryn whipped her lime-green Challenger through traffic, sliding into spaces like thread through a needle. The woman was a fucking lunatic. We were doing a hundred miles an hour down the highway.
“Like what?” she asked, never taking her eyes from her task.
I guess I could give her points for that. Except I was certain her hyper-focus was to avoid looking me in the face after the earth-shattering sex we’d just had on her desk. Not that I was complaining. I wasn’t ready to examine my own emotions either, let alone hear what she might be feeling.
I shook my head. “Never mind. Almost there?”
“Mhmm.” She wrenched the wheel, blazed down the exit, and hooked a left.
Hand to Valhalla, the damn car was on two wheels. “You planning on us making it there alive?”
For the first time since our mind-blowing sex, her lips quirked up in a grin. “Mhmm.”
“Could you maybe dial back the speed and keep us on four wheels then?”
She rolled her eyes, still not looking at me. “So dramatic.”
Dramatic? Reckless seemed more accurate. She asked for my help and instead, I gave her my dick.
Relationship status: Complicated.
Way to think with your dick, asshole.
I glanced over at Bryn and swallowed a groan. Was it really my fault? She ticked all my boxes—blonde, blue-eyed, killer body, intelligent, sarcastic as hell. And that fucking little whimper earlier when I thrust my cock into her sweet hot body. A shiver ran down my spine. I needed to hear that sound again.
And again and again.
No lie, one hit and I was addicted. We’d called it fucking, but that wasn’t what had happened, not for me. The word “mine” still echoed inside my head. The Monster had howled as I’d poured my come into a condom instead of inside her. It wanted to mark her as its.
The car stopped and I let out a sigh. My dick had started to get hard and I desperately needed a distraction. The small white house that we parked in front of fit the bill. A ranch style in need of some work—the landscaping was bushy and a little wild looking and the door could use a repaint. All in all, it wasn’t that different from the other houses in Firestone Park.
“This is it,” Bryn said.
“Abigail Shelton’s house?”
“Yeah. When we go in, you do the talking. If she won’t open up to you then I’ll ask her a question and hit her with my powers.” She bit her lip and stared at me for a couple of seconds, then asked, “Do you have a problem with that?”
Did I have a problem with it? Fuck yeah I had a problem with it.
I hated even the thought of her doing to someone else what she’d done to me. I had serious issues with taking away a person’s free will...with good reason. Odin had come to Earth when I was nine years old and claimed me for his band of berserkers. No choice, just “You’re mine and I’ll give you the details later.”
He severed my connection from Yggdrasil, the World Tree, where a man’s fate is written and rewritten. He never gained my parents’ permission. He never asked me if I wanted this life. He just decided that I was going to be one of his warriors and that was that.
He stole my wyrd, intertwined it with his, and as much as I liked to believe that I ruled my own fate, I knew it wasn’t true. I may be free right now, but eventually he’d come and force me to serve him.
And I, an idiot of the first order, was sitting beside his great-granddaughter with a monster residing in my brain and my spiffy eternal life—barring someone chopping off my head or killing me via some very complex and deadly magic—talking about screwing over some other poor soul.
It was bullshit and one tiny example of the messed-up crap Odin was responsible for in this world. Bryn and I had it easy compared to the millions of Outlanders who were trapped here on Earth, never to see their homelands again. There were whole generations who had never set eyes on their homelands because the Allfather had turned Earth into a prison state for some goddamn reason that only he was privy to.
Probably just another game of Odin Says, and all we could do was play along.
So yeah, Odin’s great-granddaughter using her magic to force someone to give her what she wanted pissed me off in a big way. But I wasn’t going to stand in Bryn’s way if shit got real, because Mordechai’s life was more important to me than some stranger’s free will.
Hypocrite much?
“Sure.” I couldn’t meet her eyes.
Bryn grabbed my arm and stopped me from getting out of the car. “Trygg, I won’t use it against her unless I have to. Okay?”
I nodded and squeezed her hand. “Thank you.”
Her smile chased away my guilt. “You’re welcome. Anything else I can do for you, or are we all systems go?”
Shit, yeah. There were a ton of things she could do for me, but they’d have to wait.
“Nope. Now, get the hell out of this car or I’m going to throw you in the backseat and fuck you so hard the whole neighborhood will know my name.”
She shook her head at me. “You have an overinflated ego.”
“It’s not just my ego that’s overinflated.” I hopped out of the car, smiling at her soft laugh.
As Bryn joined me on the sidewalk, her badass mask fell into place—lips drawn into a tight line, gaze shifting side to side. I didn’t like that she was preparing herself for the march into possible danger.
Actually, I fucking hated it.
Around us, the neighborhood was silent and non-threatening. While it wasn’t somewhere that Mordechai would live, it wasn’t the worst place I’d ever been. Middle class, maybe. I drew in a breath. Overwhelmingly human with a hint of Jotun and Fire Elemental.
Bryn moved up the sidewalk towards the house and I stopped her. “Bryn, why don’t you just wait in—”
She whirled around and stabbed her finger at my face, glaring. “If you tell me to wait in the car, I’m going to kick you in the balls.”
The look on her face made my asshole pucker just a little. She couldn’t kill me, but there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that Bryn Ullman could deal out enough pain to make me sorry I messed with her.
Thank God she wasn’t wearing stilettos.
My dick got a little firmer and I grinned, holding up my hands in surrender. Okay then. I guess I kind of liked it that my girl could hold her own. I liked it better when she held her own against me, instead of other people, but I knew a losing argument when I saw one.
“Whatever you say, princess.”
“What did you call me?” Her eyes narrowed and she froze in front of me, watching my face like a hawk circling prey.
Shit. Backpedal, man. “I called you princess. As in...you’re the boss of me.”
“Right.” She cocked her head and a puzzled look crossed her face. “I just remembered you never told me how you know I’m an Outlander.”
No way I could lie straight to her face and no fucking way was I telling her what I was. Taking my shirt off at her office had been temporary, lust-fueled insanity, but she hadn’t recognized the tattoo on my pec for the mark of ownership it was, or if she had, she hadn’t said anything.
I look
ed away from her and eyed the house, desperate for a reprieve. Gun-wielding Jotun, Fire Elemental flinging fireballs...I’d take anything. I cocked my head and looked harder. For the first time in my life, the Norns were blessing me. Abigail’s front door wasn’t closed.
“Trygg?”
Being saved by a potentially life-threatening danger? There was some delicious irony in that.
“The door is partially open.” I walked into the middle of the yard and drew in a deep breath. I wished I hadn’t.
True, bone-deep terror leaves behind a real stench. Acrid, nastier than a stream of skunk piss and let me tell you, skunk piss is an instant day ruiner for me. It was counterintuitive for me to breathe deeper in situations like this, but hundreds of years of experience and rigid self-control gangbanged my natural inclination. I sucked in a deeper breath, swallowing against my gag reflex.
“Crap.” Bryn pulled her gun and moved forward, swiftly and silently.
I would have laid out an intercept path on Bryn had I caught even a tiny whiff of blood or if the stench had gotten stronger, but neither was the case. The breeze blowing against my face softened the foul scent, and didn’t bring me any new ones. I dropped out of bloodhound pose and followed my girl into the house.
Middle class was a good call on my part. The front door opened into a living room. There were a couple of pieces of furniture, cheap and sporting slipcovers. Mostly clean. A little dust on a beat-up coffee table that tickled my nose and a few different smells coming from the kitchen off to the left—dishes that needed to be washed. No strong people scents.
Visually, nothing seemed out of place. No obvious signs of a struggle, no blood or bodies on the floor, no reason for the door to be open.
“Abby?” Bryn called out.
Crickets.
“Abigail Shelton! It’s Bryn Ullman. Are you in the house?”
Still nada. The house was small enough that if Abigail was here, she would have heard us. I hoped she just wasn’t home. Dead was the alternative. That whiff of terror from the front lawn shifted the odds in a bad direction.