“Then do something about it,” I demand. I wrap my hand around his mighty cock and stroke. He grabs my arm, holding it still, and starts to thrust against me now.
“Is that what you want to see? You want to see how my cock is going to look sliding into that wet cunt that’s all mine? I’m going to fuck you just like this,” he snaps his hips, shoving his cock between the tight grip of my fist.
A whimper escapes me when I see the slit on the tip of his head wink at me with pre-come. He is so hard, the vein filling his flesh pulsates with more blood. He swells in my hand, and my pussy clenches with need. A feeling he can only appease.
I’m too entranced right now to tell him what I want. His body is flexing, showing off every solid, sculpted muscle he as. The V in his hips gets deeper with every thrust. My eyes are fixated.
A strong urge to have him come in my hand takes over. He must be able to read the expression on my face because he gives me a sexy half-smirk, pulling himself out of my grasp.
Now, I’m empty. There isn’t one part of me that’s full of him, and that’s a problem that he better rectify. Now.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Beowulf
Dirty, dirty girl.
I can see what she desires when she looks at me. I truly do want to give it to her. I’ve never seen her like this. She’s unhinged with lust, and it makes the come threaten to spew from my cock any second. I’ve thought about getting an orgasm out of the way and have her get me hard again, but I want inside her too much.
The house is dark and cold. There’s no fire burning except the one between us, but it’s enough to keep me warm. My hands drift down the lean muscle of her legs. The closer I get to her, the further they drop. She spreads her legs wide, welcoming me between her thighs. It’s been far too long. “I never want to go so long without you again,” I say more to her luscious curves than to her.
“Never again,” she moans as I place the tip of my cock over her clit.
I tease her with my lips by getting closer to her mouth and backing away. “Do you think I could make you come like this?” I pivot my hips forward, and the helmet of my cock bumps against the sensitive button of nerves. Her nails dig into my chest. The sounds coming from her wicked mouth tells me I could. I grab her wrists tight in my hand and hold them above her head, curling my hips once again to ignite her throbbing clit until it makes her burst.
Even her folds hug me tight as I slide between them. They are wet and hot. A squirt of pre-come leaves my slit, dripping onto her. It only helps me glide easier, driving her wilder with desperate passion.
“Beowulf.” My name is a siren’s song falling from her lips, enticing me further. I didn’t know it was possible for me to want her more, but with every thrust against her, every whimper that’s directed toward me, I fall even more in love with Lilith.
“I’m going to come.” Her nails rake down my back until she lodges them in the meat of my ass as she screams her pleasure for the entire forest to hear.
“Aye, give it to me, Angel. Show me how good I make you feel.” I keep my rhythm up through her orgasm, and the tremors are so strong, they vibrate against my own aching flesh. My sack rolls and tightens to my body. I’m there. I’m right there. I must hold back. I cradle her head between my arms and grunt as a gush of her fluid soaks me further.
It shatters my self-control. I flex my hips one last time and pour my release over those plump lips that hold my cock so well. My come is stuck in her blonde bush, and seeing the mess makes me satisfied. My hand drifts down to rub my seed over her swollen folds and push my fingers inside, giving her every bit of come I have.
“You feel so good. It’s like you were made just for me,” she moans.
Finally, after all the waiting, I push the head of my cock, still rock hard, in that tight hole.
“I was made for you, just as you were for me.” I push in an inch deeper, and she clenches her muscles around me, and a threatening rumble shakes my chest. “You better stop that,” I warn, knowing that if she keeps doing that, I shall come again. Inch by inch, I push forward, stealing her breath and trying to find mine. I don’t think there is anything better in this world than how she feels around me, against me, milking my cock.
“Fuck me, Beowulf.”
“No.” I want to. I truly want to ride this pussy so hard, she feels me for days after, but I need more from this moment. It’s not every day a man finds out the love of his life is carrying his child. There shall never be a first time of her announcing her first pregnancy again. I want to savor it. We deserve that.
After everything, we deserve a second chance because how we last made love was out of my own selfishness to feel her one last time. I want to make it right.
Everything is always so hot and heavy between us. I want us to take the time to slow down and experience the love between us. It’s always there, a constant wave of energy tingling my body. As gentle as I can, I rest my lips against hers and relish in the softness of the plump lips against mine. They are the perfect size.
We melt together. Her arms wrap around me, and mine wrap around her. I don’t move. I stay connected in her tight heat, marvelling at how good she feels.
So many years have gone by. Every night I’d either wake up in the middle of the night with my hard cock in hand, missing her, or I’d have the opposite dream. She’d be dead, and I’d wake up in agony. But the result was always the same. I was left missing her.
Not anymore. She’s here, she’s under me, she calls my name when she comes, she loves me as I love her, and she’s carrying my child.
All the years of being hopeless seem so irrelevant now.
I’m not sure how long we lie there, our hands rubbing each other, our tongues swirling against one another in a provocative dance, but our bodies become slick with sweat, and my cock is harder than it has ever been. Her heat sears me from the inside, and I can’t take it anymore. I pull back, leaving just the head of my cock in, and with slow, unbearable movements, I slide back in.
Everything between us begins to build. The flame of energy around us begins to crackle with the passion that has been building since I dragged her back to my cabin. Our home. A home where we will build our future. Raise our kids. And fall in love more every day.
I clutch onto her hand, in pure shock and disbelief from what my life has become. It isn’t a dream, not anymore. It is my reality, and the happiness is almost too much for me to take. I pick up the speed of my hips but still keep it less frantic and more tender. I want her to feel every inch of me fill her up with every stroke. I want her to feel how she affects me, and something like that takes time, so that’s why I’m taking all of it.
Bringing our hands to my chest, I place her palm over my heart and break my mouth away from hers, only because there is something I must say, something she needs to know.
“It beats for you. It beats for only you, every day. It has always belonged to you.” I let my forehead fall to hers, and her fingers brush along my cheek, her nails brushing against the skin under my beard.
“You’ve always been my sun.” She smiles, stealing my lips away in another heated kiss. It takes me a minute to process what she said, but when it finally clicks, something inside me breaks free.
The passion consumes me. I hold her face with my hands and kiss her like my life depends on it. It does. I can’t seem to get close enough. Fuck! I need to be one with her. This isn’t enough. My body aches for more. I don’t know what I need. I just fucking need more. I lift her leg to go around my hip, and it makes me plunge into her sizzling depths.
“Oh, fuck,” I groan, gripping her hip with all my might. My nostrils flare as I inhale, breathing in the smell of us. It’s fucking heaven. It’s warm, wet, and permeated with sex and come. I keep the same pace, but I push my hips harder, and her mouth drops open in a silent scream. The vice of her channel tightens. It is exactly what my soul has been aching for.
The spasms of her velvet walls pull my orgasm from me. I thrus
t once, twice, and pour every drop of what she does to me inside her depths on the third.
“Angel,” I gasp as the last spurt leaves my body. I drop to my hands, holding her head and lean down for a kiss. We taste of sweat and sex, something my tongue can’t get enough of.
I try to pull out, but she locks her legs around my waist and stills me. “Don’t go. I’m not ready,” she commands, with a dig of her heels against my cheeks.
As if she has to tell me twice…
I fall to the side and bring her with me. I wrap my arms around her again and pull her close to my chest, burying my nose in her damp hair.
“I never knew it could be like this,” she says. “I thought a life like this with you was left to dreams. And if this is a dream, if this isn’t real−−”
She takes a deep, trembling breath, “Then I wish never to wake up. My world starts and ends with you, Beowulf. If you aren’t real, then I don’t wish to be real either.”
“This is real. We are awake living the life that has always been destined for us. This is our path, Angel. This is how it was supposed to happen all those years ago. I’m just so sorry we got a late start.”
I kiss up her shoulder until I get to the soft skin beneath her ear. “I plan to make it up to you every single day.” My hands fall over her stomach, still flat and taut, lean and trim, but not for long. Soon her belly will swell and be round. I can’t wait to watch my babe grow inside her. I can’t wait to live this life with my family. “Do you think it’s a boy or girl?”
“What? I don’t know,” she giggles. “It doesn’t matter. I just want a healthy baby.”
“I want a daughter that looks just like you. Then I think of boys… Actually, no girls, just boys. I don’t want to be responsible for so many deaths.”
She slaps my arm, scolding me from my implications. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do. You know how many men I fought to stay away from you when we were teenagers? Remember Haldrid Lankins? Bastard.”
“Oh, yes! He was so handsome, and when he brought me a basket of fresh fruit, I nearly fell into his manly arms.”
I can tell she is exaggerating. Plus, his arms weren’t that manly. I flip her over until she is under me again and start tickling her.
“I’m the only handsome man in your life.” I tickle her under her armpits, and squeals of musical laughter fills the room. “Say it.”
She gasps for breath as her laughter slows, and her facial expressions grow more serious. “You have always been and will always be the only one.”
The words make my semi-hard cock rise to full mast again. Not ever having to take my cock from her pussy, I start a hard rut, pushing down into her. It isn’t long before exhaustion overtakes us both. I can barely keep my eyes open, and this time my reality matches my dreams. A man like me could never expect to be gifted a second chance at living a good life. I always thought I’d be around carnage and despair. Blood and death.
Her heart beating against my hand tells me my life has taken a turn for the better. Her body shivers. I want to keep it better; I must be the man she deserves. Placing a kiss on her shoulder, I hold back a groan as I pull out of her. There isn’t a better and worse feeling. I miss her heat, but the sensation of pulling out of the tight space is mind-blowing. I stand and stare down at the beauty that is my destiny. Goddess, I’m a lucky man.
I grab a few logs and toss them into the pit to make a fire, the eerie glow from the flame dances upon her skin. Mmm, she is my angel, dancing in the blaze of my heart.
With a content exhale, I climb in beside her and pull the covers over us, keeping the freeze at bay. With her skin against mine and her scent wrapped around me, for the first time in many restless years, I’m happy.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Beowulf
“What do you mean Lady Thyra is missing?” I roar at Jericho. The damn man had been fiddling with that catapult again and took his eyes off the castle. Erik is still playing sick, and because no one takes their fucking positions seriously, Lady Thyra took the opportunity to apparently try and find her father on her own.
At least, that is the conclusion I am jumping to. The fury under my skin can hardly be contained. I lower my voice to an angry whisper and unsheathe my blade, pressing it against Jericho’s throat. “Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you right now for losing the Warlord’s wife.”
Jericho remains silent.
“Tell me!” I roar, pressing the blade harder into the flesh of his neck. A dribble of blood flows out, dripping down the silver blade. Jericho doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t move. The man is truly frightening when it comes to pain tolerance.
“I don’t have a good reason for you not to kill me. All I can say is, I offer to try and find her and bring her back. If I fail, in return, you take my life.”
“I might not have to when Warlord finds out. You do know he will find out? And what then? Don’t be surprised if he kills you on the spot. That is the mother of his children.”
“I know that!” he spits, his dark black eyes flickering with self-hatred. “And her father is missing? I looked away for one second, Sir Wulf. One second. That’s all. Erik should be held accountable as well. He is still trying to get Leiva to eat out of the palm of his hands instead of watching the door like he is supposed to.”
With a tired sigh, I sheath my sword and nod. “I know. He shall get what is coming to him too. For now, we must notify Warlord.”
A loud crash from inside the castle has me and Jericho snapping our heads to the left. A chair flies out the window and shards of glass rain through the air, clattering to the ground in a heavy pile. A war cry pierces through the air, and I swear, it shakes the foundation of the entire country.
I look back at Jericho to see his face white as snow and his throat bobbing with… dare I say, actual fear. Hell, I would be too if I lost the Warlord’s wife. And to be the one held responsible? Goddess, the wrath Warlord Einarr shall bring down on this kingdom will be worse than any battle we have ever faced.
“Oh, shite,” Jericho trembles. An actual full-body tremble.
Shite is right. Warlord bursts out of the doors of the castle with fury written all over his face. He scans the yard, and when he sees Jericho, the scar on his face pulls tight from the snarl on his lip. His eyes are intense, riddled with the promise of death. Warlord grabs his axe that he straps to his back and sprints toward us.
“Stop!” Lord Grimkael orders, yelling after his best friend, but Einarr keeps charging. There is no way anything can stop him, not even commands from our leader.
Einarr’s beard is decorated with iron beads. The braided strands sway in the breeze, and his eyes are cold and lifeless. His hand moves so quick; I barely have time to jump back when he grabs Jericho by his hair and pulls him along the yard.
Jericho is kicking, his hand grabbing at the ends of his hair to keep Warlord from ripping it from his scalp.
“I’m going to fucking kill you.” He tosses Jericho on the ground and lifts his axe through the air. “You lost her. You had one job. One!”
I shut my eyes when Einarr brings the axe down, but the sickening sound of flesh being cut never comes. When I open my eyes, I see Lord Grimkael fighting Warlord Einarr. Their arms shake from power colliding with power.
“Stop this,” Lord Grimkael hisses, lowering the weapon from Einarr’s grasp. It takes much effort on Lord Grimkael’s end, but finally, he wrenches the axe away from the Warlord’s hold. “You can’t kill someone without asking them what happened.”
“I know what happened. He took his eyes off the castle long enough for my heartbroken, stubborn, headstrong, maddening woman to climb out the window and disappear to go find her father.”
Einarr’s large frame swells when he stands to his full height and takes a step toward Jericho—who somehow managed to get back to his feet. Jericho is one of the biggest men I’ve ever seen, and the Warlord just laid him out flat. “If she isn’t back within three days, I shall kill you. Do I make
myself clear?”
Jericho hangs his head with defeat and remorse. “Aye. I understand, Warlord. I already told Sir Wulf that if I do not find her, I sacrifice my life.”
“Sacrificing won’t be needed because I’ll just take it,” he spits. His monstrous palms push Lord Grimkael. “Get the fuck out of my way.”
My eyebrows rise to my hairline. No one ever talks to the Lord that way, not without getting their tongue cut out, but Warlord and Lord Grimkael are best friends. I’m sure that is the only reason why Einarr is still breathing.
Lord Grimkael takes three strides toward me and points at Jericho. “You have two days to bring her home, and then we go to war with the Jackals.”
“Wait, has Alaric woken?” I ask. Lilith will want to know so she can see him. She hasn’t been to the medical corridor since I practically dragged her out of there.
“Aye, this morning. He is sketching us a map now. I’m counting on you, Trident, and Jericho to bring Lady Thyra home. Do you understand that? I don’t want her to get caught up in the war, Wulf. The things that can happen—”
“Yes, my Lord. I understand. I’ll begin looking for her now.” Lilith is not going to be happy about this.
Being on the brink of war with the Jackals and having two of our own missing at the same time makes for a rough situation. The Jackals could have them, or worse, they could be planning to use them against us. I know Warlord would gladly give up this entire kingdom if it meant getting Lady Thyra back. It’s a scary thought, but I know I would do the same if someone took Lilith.
I’d sacrifice every single life here if it meant Lilith would be safe and in my arms again. I know how it sounds. Even when I think it, it’s barbaric, but I’d do it. All those lives are nothing compared to hers.
Vikings' Brides Box Set Page 68