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

Page 13

by Lisa Oliver


  Poseidon ignored Thor completely. “Tell me, Orin, you wouldn’t use the spell to save yourself, even against the father of all beings. You didn’t even use it to summon your mate when you could have done, but would you use it to save Thor if you had to?”

  “You know I would,” Orin burst out, blinking rapidly to stop his tears from falling. How the hell gods knew all these things, he didn’t know, but Orin felt cornered. He’d admitted his darkest secret to someone who was basically a stranger and now that stranger was poking at him, looking for weaknesses in his arguments. “You’re not being fair. My mate is everything to me.”

  “Sei.” Thor’s growl was real this time and so, thank goodness, were the arms suddenly cradling Orin as though he was precious. He needed that strength to lean on.

  “I know what I’m doing Thor,” Poseidon said. “Orin has tied the concept of summoning to control. Will a summoned god be expected to grant a boon? I imagine so. But it’s not a permanent thing, and I can’t see Orin ever asking for something he didn’t need. Think about the bigger picture here. Word is already spreading like wildfire among the gods of Orin’s power. Zeus is pitching a shit fit, and Hades is worried someone’s going to force him to be sociable, or something equally traumatic. How those brothers of mine will ever find mates is beyond me. But that’s beside the point. Odin kidnapped your mate for the very same reason as I’m asking now. No one knows what the spell can do because no one has ever used it before. Fear of the unknown breeds panic. You two would be a lot safer if we all knew what might happen when summoned.”

  “Dad makes sense, Thor, you have to see that.” Lasse and Jason were sitting with Nereus and his mates. “We’re here, in dad’s domain. It’s the safest place to try this and he did offer to be the guinea pig.”

  Orin’s heart sank. He could feel his mate agreed and in a convoluted way, it made sense. With any luck the damn spell wouldn’t work at all, and then Orin’s life could go back to his new normal where his mate was his focus instead of the stupid necklace. His jaw was cupped in hands he loved, and he met Thor’s concerned gaze. “I know,” he said quietly. “I’ll give it a try. But if I become a power crazy megalomaniac then don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “Your heart’s too pure to let that happen.” Thor’s kiss was soft and full of love. Orin didn’t want to let go, but the sooner he performed, the sooner Thor and Cathair could become the center of attention.

  There were no instructions in the book around his neck. The author prefaced it saying simply that the words had to be spoken with precision. Orin had repeated the spell to himself a dozen times since he first learned of it, but he’d never put a name at the end. Poseidon and Claude ate each other’s face in a way that brought a flush to Orin’s cheeks, but before Orin was ready, Poseidon gave a cheeky wave and disappeared.

  “If he has to do anything you say when you summon him, make him dance like a damn chicken,” Claude laughed as he wiped his swollen lips. “The little brat gets far too cheeky at times.”

  “You can do this.” Thor’s hand on his shoulder gave Orin strength. He remembered how he’d called Mjolnir and used the mighty hammer. He thought of Thor’s love for him, something the god thought impossible, and yet it was there in everything his beloved Thor did for him. I can do this.

  The ancient words flowed off Orin’s tongue like a melody. Orin had always believed in the power of words, and for the first time he could feel it. His skin prickled, his hair felt electrified, don’t falter, don’t falter. The final phrase, this is it. “Poseidon.”

  For a second nothing happened and then Poseidon appeared. But it wasn’t the sexy slender man Orin had met. The man in front of him now was the god Orin imagined as a child. Hair still silver, but wavy and tinged with the green of the sea – big and broad with droplets of water rolling down his chest. Silver pants took the place of his tail, but the Trident was firmly clasped in Poseidon’s left hand.

  “Way to go,” Poseidon crowed with delight as he took stock of himself. “You totally forced my shift, sexy elf, and I couldn’t stop it. I guess when that spell was written they wanted the god, not the personification we chose for ourselves. Totally incredible.”

  “Are you okay?” Orin nibbled at his bottom lip. “You don’t feel the urge to kill me, kill anyone else, or kiss my feet? Are you able to leave again?”

  “Er….” Poseidon squinted one eye. “No, I can’t leave, but all my other powers are intact.” With a flourish he produced a red rose in his trident free hand and presented it to his mate. “You’re going to have to order me to do something.”

  “Dance like a chicken,” Claude laughed as he accepted the rose.

  “I told you, I’m not strutting around like a damn bird with a skinny neck.”

  “Dance like a chicken.” Orin said softly. It wasn’t as though he could think of anything else.

  Poseidon grimaced, the veins in his neck stood out and his hands shook. But then, in jerky movements, he started strutting about, bobbing his head up and down, lifting his legs high with every step – just like a damn chicken. Everyone from Lasse to Claude all burst out laughing. Thor roared with mirth, slapping his thigh and crowing at the ceiling like a rooster.

  “Oh my god, oh my god, make him stop, make him stop,” Raff squealed, clinging onto Nereus who was also grinning like a loon. “I’m going to wet my pants.”

  “Stop dancing.” Orin froze as Poseidon stopped, his chest heaving, his face flushed. “It was you who told me to order you to do something.”

  “I did indeed, young Orin,” Poseidon frowned at his mate and family, “but if any of you, any one of you, and I’m looking at you Thor mention this to anyone else, I’ll curse you with gills for at least a week.”

  “I won’t let you hurt my mate.”

  Poseidon winced and rubbed his chest. “It seems the boon aspect is not a one-time thing, which is probably handy if you come across a stubborn god, and lord knows there are enough of them around. You have my word I won’t hurt your mate. Now can you release me? Claude, babe, I’ll just zap out and back in again, so we can be sure the spell breaks as it is meant to.”

  Slightly mortified he’d inadvertently given Poseidon another order, Orin muttered the words needed to release the god of the sea. Poseidon disappeared and reappeared almost instantly as his former slender self. Claude gathered him up in his arms immediately, something Poseidon didn’t seem to mind.

  “Oh, hang on, I just want to try one more thing,” Poseidon said, pushing Claude’s arms away. He strode over to Thor and raised his hand as if to strike him. The arm moved but as it got within a foot of Thor’s shoulder it stopped as though Thor was covered in a force field. “Okay, apparently anything a god agrees to lasts after the spell is rescinded, which could be handy for you, Orin. Make a note. If you end up summoning an angry SOB make sure you include a clause that says they can’t come back and hurt you or your mate.”

  “Noted,” Orin said, his mind still trying to make sense of what he’d done. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once and he just didn’t want to think about it. “I thought we were here, so Thor could challenge Cathair. Where the hell is Cathair?”

  “You called, oh, Keeper of the Gods and kin to the elves.” Cathair and Marius had their arms slung around each other, both of them looking far more handsome and smug than they had a right to.

  “Great,” Orin snapped. “Now the fun part of the evening can start. Pass the popcorn.” Yeah, he was still rattled. He didn’t even like popcorn.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Thor had never been one to back away from a fight and just seeing Cathair looking smug and sexed up was enough to make him want to punch him. Unfortunately, the mate Marius had other ideas. Apparently, there were rules to follow.

  “As I understand it, Thor God of Storms believes Cathair, my mate, emotionally wounded and upset his mate, the half-elf Orin. As Orin is half-cat shifter also, this challenge falls under shifter rules as Cathair and I are both members of th
e Cloverleah pack. All fighting stays within the circle. No magic, weapons or other trickeries can be used or that person is forfeit. Winner will be determined by knock out or submission. Should Thor be successful, the Cloverleah pack will make restitution to Orin.”

  “Can we just get on with it?” Thor glared at Cathair. “Your thoughtless comments made my mate cry. You had no idea of the life my mate has lived and made reckless assumptions, opening your big mouth like you were some big shot, when you know nothing. I’d gladly smack your head right off your shoulders, except the damn thing would grow back.”

  “Bring it.” Cathair shrugged off his shirt, handing it to a scowling Marius before stepping into the ring. “For what it’s worth. I apologize.”

  “Yeah, I don’t want to hear it.” Stripping off his shirt too, Thor gave his to Orin who was sitting next to Jason. “Won’t be long, sweet one.”

  “Take your time.” Orin leaned back in his chair and offered a small smile. Thor guessed using the spell had taken more out of his mate than he was letting on. A couple of quick punches should take care of the annoying Cathair and then they could go back to the Lodge.

  Stepping over the painted white rocks, Thor flexed his muscles. “You know I’m the strongest of all gods?”

  “You don’t have your belt or hammer with you now, and I didn’t get to be battle lord for my kind by being a wimp.” Cathair half-crouched as if bracing himself. “Give me your best shot.”

  Swinging his fist, Thor landed a blow right on Cathair’s jaw, hard enough to hear the crunch. The elf staggered but didn’t fall. Instead he came back with punches of his own and Thor felt a rib crack. Oh, you sneaky fucking elf. So that’s how it’s going to be. A solid kick sent Cathair to the edge of the circle, but the man just got up and came back. This is actually fun, Thor thought as he dodged a left hook and followed it with one of his own.

  Five minutes morphed into ten, then twenty. Thor could feel the sweat running down his face and his whole body ached, but Cathair wasn’t looking any better. The man’s pristine hair was mussed and there were wicked bruises on both sides of his jaw. His braid. Aha. Thor feinted with his right fist and as Cathair twisted to one side, Thor grabbed the braid with his left, wrapping it quickly around his fist and taking Cathair to the floor.

  “Do you yield, elf?” Thor used the leverage he had on Cathair’s head to press it into the stone floor as he leaned his full body weight over Cathair’s back.

  “It’s a low trick to use the hair, man.” Cathair panted as he tried to arch his body upwards. “If you weren’t so fat, I’d be able to get out of this.”

  “Ain’t fat, just pure muscle. Admit it elf, you’re done.” Gods, I hope he’s done. Thor leaned harder on Cathair’s neck.

  “I yield,” Cathair groaned. “I yield.”

  Uncurling his fist from Cathair’s hair, Thor got up, making sure to press down on some notably red areas on Cathair’s torso as he did so. Cupping his hair, he held it up from his sweaty neck, so it fell down his back. He immediately looked for Orin who was looking pale, but who still managed a grin for him.

  “Do you feel better now, mate of mine?”

  “I will do if the winner gets a kiss from his mate?” Stepping over Cathair’s body, Thor left the circle feeling a lot lighter than he had in days. It wasn’t demon fighting good, or even Cerberus fighting good, but the elf put up a good challenge. Thor was happy with that.

  /~/~/~/~/

  Orin had never watched an actual fight before, but with Jason giving running commentary, and the other men cheering and booing by varying degrees, he guessed Thor put on a good show. It was a little difficult to hide how aroused Thor’s naked chest made him, especially with so many shifters in the room, but no one was crass enough to mention it. Orin’s only concern, as Thor lifted him from his chair, his lips hot and hungry for his victory kiss, was that Cathair was still conscious which meant he probably wanted to talk. But even that thought didn’t seem so bad, when Thor cupped his scalp and took control of their kiss.

  Breathing was so overrated. I’m immortal now, maybe I can hold my breath for longer. Yes, Orin admitted he got weird random thoughts in his head at times, but he didn’t want Thor to stop. Stopping meant Cathair would want to talk to him, and after the incident with Poseidon, Orin wasn’t sure he was ready for that discussion. Clinging tight to Thor’s shoulders, Orin let his lips describe his need, his passion and the sheer urgency he was feeling for getting the hell out of Poseidon’s palace to somewhere more private.

  Can I? Can I? Orin wasn’t sure he could translocate them both out of Poseidon’s palace, but he was about to give it a good try. Thor’s energies were like an electrical storm, boosting Orin’s magic every time he was near. Couple that with the sexual energy that flowed so readily between them and Orin was ready to explode. Gripping at Thor’s hair and uncaring of the people around them, Orin hooked his legs around Thor’s waist and imagined their loft apartment.

  For a moment he worried he’d end up crashing to the floor in an undignified heap as he left Thor behind, but as his nose told him they’d arrived at their destination, it was them, not just him who made it.

  “You are one naughty, naughty little elf,” Thor growled, his eyes signifying his lust. “You know darn well Cathair wants to talk to you.”

  “I wanted to suck your cock.” Orin hoped his expression was innocent. “Watching you fight, all those rippling muscles on display. I didn’t want anyone else seeing your naked ass.”

  “I didn’t have to take my pants off for you to suck me, but that’s fine. I’d rather be in your ass anyway.” Orin felt his molecules disperse again. This time he ended up naked, on the bed with Thor’s cock slapping him in the face. “Wrap those naughty lips around me, sweetness, while I get you prepared to take me.”

  Orin was more than happy to do as he was asked, or growly ordered to do. Thor, in the heat of lust was every dominant fantasy come to life. Stretching his lips wide, he eagerly sucked the bulbous head of Thor’s cock into his mouth, his cat yowling in his head as the sweaty, musky taste burst across his tongue.

  Blow jobs weren’t something he was that good at yet – he hadn’t learned to relax his jaw enough to take that much of Thor’s length in. But Orin loved Thor’s taste and when drops of precome fell on his tongue, he moaned, gripping around the remaining free shaft in his palms and gently moving them up and down to encourage more spillage.

  Flat on his back, Thor’s knees nudging his shoulders, Orin couldn’t see anything but the flex of Thor’s lower torso. He was surrounded by heat and everything that was Thor and never wanted to stop. Sucking eagerly, he pushed Thor’s length as far down his throat as he could, taking care not to gag. His eyes closed, and Orin arched his neck, bobbing up and down, zoned out on the sensations of giving his mate pleasure.

  Thor’s fingers at his hole were more familiar now. Orin fought to keep his legs relaxed, spread as wide as they could go, giving his mate easy access while he focused on keeping his teeth away from Thor’s hard length. That wasn’t always easy – his cat side could get pushy around Thor sometimes and the one time he did nick Thor’s cock with his fangs, his mate laughed it off. But Orin had been mortified at the time. Now he made sure his gums didn’t tingle, and his teeth didn’t lengthen as he sucked and licked around Thor’s engorged head.

  Orin’s body opened under the pressure from Thor’s fingers, the slide of lube taking care of most of the burn. Even so, Orin felt his hole stretching, inch by delicious inch, and he wiggled his hips to help things along; his cock so far neglected. Thor wasn’t a selfish lover, and always made sure Orin got off too, but that was never until Thor’s length was buried deep inside of him. Rather than be upset about it, Orin loved that he could suck or fondle to his heart’s content without having to worry about the embarrassingly short time it took him to climax, something that hadn’t changed from their first time together.

  “So good, that feels so good,” Orin muttered as he stopped to take a bre
ather. The muscles on the side of his jaw ached, but already his tongue was mourning the loss of his favorite treat, dangling as it was, right in front of his face, dripping with his saliva.

  “Flip over, sweetness. I have a feeling this is going to be quick.”

  “Isn’t it always?” Orin giggled as he waited for Thor to move his leg, so he could roll over, resting on his hands and knees and arching his back. Of all the positions they’d tried, this was his favorite, feeling Thor’s skin slap on his ass with every thrust, the warm embrace of his mate’s body hovering over him. Sure enough, Thor wasted no time in lining up and thrusting inside of him, but the burn faded quickly, aided by the kisses Thor plastered along the back of his neck.

  “You are so perfect for me,” Thor crooned as his hips moved, slowly at first. Orin was always grateful, Thor might push into his body like a bull at a gate, but he never slammed hard and fast until Orin’s body adjusted. Thor’s thrusts reverberated up his spine and Orin wanted to yowl. Dropping his head, he felt rather than heard Thor’s mutterings, but Thor’s emotions filled the air. I’d fight anyone who dared tell me my mate didn’t love me, Orin thought as Thor’s thrusts sped up.

  His eyes closed, his hair falling over his face, Orin’s senses soared as he felt Thor’s passion. The tattoo on his chest burned, his balls tightened, all with Thor doing nothing more than brushing his lips across his neck. Well, and pound his ass, but Orin knew that was Thor’s way.

  The tension in his mate’s body, combined with the smell of their sex in the air had Orin ready to blow. Hold off. Hold off. Just one…more…. “Thor!” Orin yelled as his balls unloaded and he felt the warmth of Thor’s release flood his body. Thor’s body stuttered and froze above him, his hair tickling Orin’s shoulders as Thor’s forehead rested on the back of his head. Orin didn’t need to hear it, he could feel it. His mate loved him, and he was happy to stay, locked in position until the muscles in his arms started to tremble. As always, Thor was there to catch him when he fell.

 

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