Riding The Storm (The Gods Made Me Do It Book 4)

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Riding The Storm (The Gods Made Me Do It Book 4) Page 10

by Lisa Oliver


  Orin was looking a little flushed, so Thor poured him some more wine. “Think of it a bit like a public service,” he said warming to his theme. “So many of the gods are hellishly lonely although you’d never get any of them to admit it. If you summoned them to help you with some research you were doing, or decided you wanted to have a god to dinner once a month…” Thor shook his head. “Maybe not dinner. Honestly with some of those guys, they start talking about the good old days and you can never get rid of them. Does the spell have a ‘time for you to go home because I’ve finished with you now’ option with it?”

  “Yes.”

  Oh dear, maybe I’ve been a little heavy handed with the wine. Orin’s face was white. “Well, that’s all good then,” Thor said heartily. “You can invite anyone you like. Trust me. When the gods meet you, they are going to be so taken in with your caring nature and charm, they’re not going to care about being summoned. You just have to make friends with them and then you can call on them any time you like.” Thor peered at Orin closely. “Are you all right? Do you need some fresh air perhaps?”

  “Yes.” Orin nodded, wobbling slightly in his chair.

  Definitely too much wine. Priding himself on noticing such things in his sweet mate, Thor hurriedly called for the bill and left a generous tip. They’d go for a walk up Cherry Hill in Central Park. That should help his mate feel better.

  /~/~/~/~/

  Orin’s brain had completely disconnected. He could barely walk out of the restaurant on his own two feet. To hear Thor talking so casually about deities he’d read and researched about his entire life – inviting them for dinner and being friends with them all – as if the Keeper role Thor took as a given wasn’t a big deal and a huge responsibility. His mind was full of words, phrases, snippets, none of which he could organize into a coherent sentence. They were half way up Cherry Hill before he found his voice.

  “I can’t do it! I can’t be the Keeper!” There. He’d said it. The relief, just getting the words out there was huge.

  “Sweetness, you’ve already learned the spell. It’s not as though you can unlearn it, can you?”

  Lie. Lie. Lie. But Orin wouldn’t do that. “No. The curse of an eidetic memory,” he sighed.

  “And even if they said all the right words, assuming they could read them, the spell won’t work for anyone else. My father was very firm about that.”

  “Did your father give any hints on how I was supposed to cope with that level of responsibility?” Orin turned on his mate. “Thor. We’re talking about gods, deities, beings with incredible power who could completely annihilate me with a single thought.”

  “They wouldn’t dare. Not unless they want to face my wrath.”

  “You’re not understanding what I’m getting at.” Orin seethed with frustration. “Look at me.”

  “You’re as gorgeous as ever now the color’s come back to your cheeks.” Thor beamed.

  Despite himself, Orin blushed and managed a smile. “I wasn’t fishing for compliments but thank you. I’m asking you to look at me as a god might look at a mortal, not as a man eyeing his mate with sexual aspirations.”

  “You get ten points for recognizing my sexual aspirations of the evening.” Crossing his ankles, Thor sank his ass onto the ground and patted his knee. “Come and park your sexy ass on my knee so the sight of it in those lovely pants doesn’t distract me. Then take a deep breath, relax and just enjoy the night air. When you are ready, explain to me what you think I can see when I look at you.”

  “Are you sure you’re not trying to cop a feel?” There was something about Thor’s easy calm and acceptance, or maybe it was the wine he’d drunk, but Orin did as he was asked, leaning back against Thor’s massive chest, taking long slow breaths. It did help – Thor’s intoxicating scent blended with the smell of dew on the grass and the light cherry wood smell coming from the trees. The combination was enough to ease Orin’s soul.

  “I was never destined to be anything more than I am,” Orin finally felt calm enough to get his thoughts in order. “I’m a hybrid – cat and elf. I’ve been shunned by both sides of my genetics my whole life. Physically I’d need to stand on tip toe wearing eight inch heels to hit the six foot mark, and while I can defend myself against larger humans, neither my magic nor my fists are going to protect me from most paranormals.”

  “I’ve accepted all that,” he added as Thor growled in disapproval. “I’ve had my books, my gift and for the most part, people leave me alone. To be granted the gift of such a magnificent mate is more than I’d ever dreamed of, but this Keeper position is like shooting for the stars and catching one. I’m so far out of my comfort zone, it’s like I created a realm out of the crazy. I don’t know how to handle any of this. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

  “You’re seriously underestimating the power of our mating bond, and your own inner strength.” Orin watched as Thor held out his hand and a huge hammer appeared.

  “Is that…?” Eyes wide, Orin’s fingers twitched with the desire to touch.

  “Mjolnir. Yes.” Thor’s tone was fond. “Many tools have been attributed to me over the years – objects designed to apparently increase my strength and power. But all of them are merely tools I can use to channel my power through, and Mjolnir is my favorite. You can hold it.” Thor held it out.

  “I’d never be able to keep it off the ground.” The hammer was simple and sturdy in its design, something Orin thought suited its owner. Short of handle, as depicted in lore, its rectangular head had a dull metallic sheen, but it wasn’t any metal or substance Orin had seen before.

  “Take it. I promise, as my mate, my friend will recognize you.”

  Heaving a sigh and trying not to tense at the anticipated weight, Orin grasped the handle and felt a warm glow in the tattoo over his chest. “It does recognize me,” he said, suddenly grinning as he gently waved the hammer in the air. “I thought no one but you could wield it.”

  “It’s been stolen a few times,” Thor said with a matching grin. “I once had to put on a wedding frock to get it back, but it always comes back to me. No one can call the thunder or lightening with it except me though…and I think, maybe you. Do you want to give it a try?”

  “Create a storm?” Orin could barely contain his excitement. “What do I have to do?”

  “I think we need a bigger hill for you to grasp the full experience. Hang on.”

  Orin barely had time to register the words when his molecules dissipated. When he opened his eyes, that he hadn’t even realized he’d closed, he and Thor were standing atop a huge mountain range, the peaks all covered in snow.

  “Oops. You’ll need a jacket. Here.” Thor handed Orin a coat, much like the leather one he wore. “It’s spelled to keep you warm in all weathers.”

  Touched by the thoughtful gesture, Orin took it and slipped it over his shoulders. The icy wind around his chest immediately disappeared although his cheeks were chilly. “Now what do we do?”

  “We call the storm.” Thor pointed in the distance to the black nebulous clouds darkening the skies. “See, over there? It is possible for me to create a storm from thin air, but it’s a lot more powerful if we use existing resources. Now, watch.” Holding up his arms, Thor yelled out a word Orin didn’t recognize, and all at once every star was blackened out by swift moving clouds.

  “Now we throw in some lightening.” Thor’s arms rested on Orin’s shoulders, their hands joined on the hammer’s shaft. “Punch it at the sky.”

  A little bit nervous, but hellishly excited, Orin made some stabbing motions with the hammer. Flickers of light lit up the clouds.

  “Cute for a first try, but put some oomph into it.” With Thor’s hand guiding him, Orin tried again. This time jagged shards of light leaped for the ground.

  “I did it!” If it wasn’t for Thor’s arms, Orin would have been jumping around like a loon.

  “Ah, but now you need thunder.” Thor’s low and sensual voice sent shivers down Orin’s sp
ine. “Another punching motion, but this time at the ground.”

  Orin was more confident this time, punching the air towards the ground, jumping slightly as thunder rumbled overhead. “Was that me?” He asked, turning his head slightly to see Thor watching him. “Did I really do that?”

  “You really did. I’m going to let go of you now, so you can see you’re doing this yourself. Just move the hammer however you want it, up for lightening, down for thunder. And be prepared, the rain is about to start shortly.”

  Thor’s warmth and strength were missed, but Orin was too caught up in Mjolnir to worry too much. Tentatively at first, but growing in confidence with every passing moment, he lit up the skies with lightening and then rumbled the rocks beneath his feet with the power of the thunder. When the rain came, it hit hard. Orin’s hair was plastered to his head in seconds, and he laughed out loud at the sheer joy of it all. For one brief passage of time it was he that controlled the elements, just as he dreamed of as a child. It was as glorious as he imagined it would be.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The lightening strike counters are going to have a field day with this, Thor thought with a grin as he watched his mate dancing around in the rain. It was like watching an erotic dance, the shards of lightening highlighting the sheer joy on Orin’s face as his sexy body twirled around, his arms flying in all directions. Something settled deep inside his chest in that moment. Something warm and comforting and Thor knew he never wanted to spend another day without his mate by his side.

  Time seemed to lose all meaning and Thor could have watched his mate for hours. But after a while, Orin’s movements slowed. The clouds moved on and the rain slowly eased to a light splatter. Only the happiness and excitement on Orin’s face remained. “You have no idea,” he panted, running over and handing Thor back his hammer. “You have no idea what this has meant to me. I dreamed of doing this very thing for years as a child.”

  Our connection was starting even then, Thor thought, sending Mjolnir back to the ether while taking in his mate’s soggy appearance. “Shall we head back to the apartment? I’m thinking a long hot soak in the tub could be the perfect way to finish off our evening.”

  “Goodness, yes. I’m exhausted. With changing time zones, this has to be the longest day I’ve ever had.” Orin stepped closer and the wet sleeves of his cuffs dripped down Thor’s coat as he wrapped his hands around Thor’s neck. “Thank you so much for sharing your power with me. I will cherish this memory always.”

  “You did this all on your own, sweetness.” Storms were a dime a dozen for Thor but as he tugged Orin closer, lifting his feet off the ground, he prayed the heat between them would never get old. Orin’s lips were chilled from the rain, but quickly heated under his. Thor wouldn’t remove his mate’s coat, but his hands found the body underneath, moving fabric until he felt Orin’s silky skin.

  Widening his stance slightly, Thor took full advantage of his mate’s tight grip around his neck and the legs resting on his hips. The slight ripple of Orin’s muscles that bordered his spine teased his fingers and Thor felt every one of them, from his mate’s slender neck, all… the… way… down. His groan rivaled thunder as he grazed his palms over the smooth globes of Orin’s ass, still hidden by Orin’s pants. Sucking hard on Orin’s lips as he pulled back, Thor could see the answering passion in his mate’s face.

  “Take us home, Thor,” Orin’s whisper flew on the wind, but Thor heard it clearly. A blink and they were still clinging together, surrounded by the warm water of the tub this time.

  “I hope you didn’t lose my fancy coat,” Orin chuckled as he bent his head and fused their lips back together again.

  Thank the Fates I can multi-task, Thor thought applying his lips to his mate’s, kissing the stuffing out of him, while his hands explored Orin’s tight globes. He was tempted to use magic yet again to prep his mate for his cock. But the delicious shiver Orin gave as his finger tickled his mate’s tight opening, gave Thor the urge to explore and play.

  Lube appeared on his fingers, and yes that was magic, but everything else was pure Thor. At one point, as Thor had his fingers buried deep in his mate and he was teasing Orin’s nipples with his tongue, Thor happened to glance up. Orin was hanging onto the sides of the tub, his head thrown back, his mouth open as he moaned. His hard cock was bobbing about in the water and his chest was flushed with red. The image etched a permanent spot in Thor’s memory banks and he had a sneaking suspicion he was falling in love.

  Unsettled at the revelation, Thor removed his fingers, sliding his hands up Orin’s back to encourage his body upright. “Ready for me, my sweet?”

  “I’ve been ready for you my whole life.” Orin’s arms landed on his shoulders. “Take me.”

  It shouldn’t feel like coming home, but it did. Thor tried to clear the mushy thoughts from his head, but as Orin’s body opened under the thrust from his cock, it was hard to think straight at all. The water suddenly felt as though it was a thousand degrees and sweat poured down Thor’s face. Leaning back slightly, his hips punched up and Orin moved right along with him. Swaying, undulating, taking him perfectly, and damn it, there was that word again. Perfect.

  But it was true, and Thor knew it. For more lifetimes than it was possible to count, Thor had used his cock like an extension of his hammer. It was a tool designed to bring Thor pleasure and the recipients of his seed some modicum of whatever they got out of it. His brain, his emotions, his soul – none of them were ever involved, but as Thor thrust into Orin harder and faster, he couldn’t deny what he was feeling. Lust and desire were there in abundance, but it was so much more. Thor wanted to see his mate’s face as he came, and when it happened, and Orin’s grimace and the pulse of his cock signaled his release, it was as though Thor’s heart burst open with every thrust of his cock.

  Thor tried to hold back. Tried to hold his orgasm at bay as if to prove to himself at least that Orin wasn’t the most splendid and sensual sight he’d ever seen. But his body knew the truth and responded accordingly. His balls emptied as his heart filled and Thor felt fear for only the fourth time in his long life. Because if his sweet Orin didn’t feel the same way, he’d be a shell of who he used to be.

  “You silly, duffer,” Orin said, his voice still raspy with lust as he leaned his forehead on Thor’s. “We share the same heart. How could I not love you for all time?”

  “How…what…?” But Orin just laughed and kissed him again and Thor could feel the love grow between them with every pass of his mate’s lips.

  Maybe this love concept won’t be so bad after all. At least Thor wasn’t in it alone and that meant more than he could ever say, or would ever say. After all, he still had a reputation to uphold.

  /~/~/~/~/

  Orin was physically and emotionally exhausted, but he couldn’t sleep. Curled up in Thor’s arms, in their bed this time, his mind would not shut down. Thor’s revelation about his new position as the Keeper was just one thing he tried to make sense of. There was so much more. Like, why did the elf Cathair call him kin? Were they physically related or was it something elven folk said about others of their kind? Orin had never been considered a true elf because of his mother’s shifter genetics. She made it clear, the one time he asked about his father, that he’d never be welcomed by them.

  Then there was the little matter of Cathair calling his father a hero. To who? Running out on his mother certainly didn’t make him a hero in Orin’s eyes, but then he never did learn the secrets his mother took to her grave.

  Thinking about his mother and Thor’s offhand comment about summoning Amun-Ra led Orin’s mind in a different direction this time. His mother’s fascination with Bastet. The goddess Bastet was the daughter of Ra, a fierce protector of the home and like any cat was both a nurturer and a predator. The goddess was often depicted as having the head of a cat, and she ruled over pleasure and fun in the Egyptian pantheon. Many scholars claimed she was often depicted as a sand cat, Orin’s own animal spirit. Was there a connecti
on? Is that why I’ve been made the keeper? Orin spent his teenage years wondering why he was born with blond hair and fair skin, when his mother was dark haired and carried the swarthy skin worthy of any Egyptian.

  In the dark of the night, his thoughts punctuated by Thor’s snores, Orin was overcome with a rare urge to shift. His cat was usually a quiet creature; happy to provide the enhanced senses that saved Orin on many an occasion, but content to stay hidden inside of Orin’s magical body. But maybe it was the talk of all the gods – maybe it was Orin’s memories pushing his cat to come forward, but in this instance, the cat wouldn’t be denied.

  Unsure how Thor would react to his shifted form, Orin tried to dislodge the arm draped heavily over his waist. Thor mumbled something under his breath and the arm tightened around him. So much for subtlety. Next Orin tried to roll, thinking if Thor went with him, he could slip out of his hold then. A heavy thigh landing across his legs put paid to that idea.

  I tried. I sure hope Thor’s not allergic to fur. Focusing inward, Orin suppressed his magic, allowing his cat form to come through. The change in perspective always shocked him. Orin was getting used to being smaller than his much bigger mate, but compared to his sand cat, Thor was massive. Looking down, Orin admired the twin black bands on his front legs that stood out from his golden fur. Then moving silently, Orin stretched out his full length bowing down on his front legs and then stretching his back legs behind him before sitting upright, his tail swishing behind him slowly on the covers.

 

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