Ægir’s Bride Ch. 05

"Love," he whispered against her ear as he kissed the side of her face.

Did she? She shook her head. She wanted to deny it. Less than a week she reminded herself...five fucking days. It did not happen like that. It was not supposed to. You met someone through school or work or friends. You got to know one another slowly. Then you dated...eventually you had sex. Then after a year or so you became a couple. You married after two or three years...or six...or never.

But from the beginning this has been out of her comfort zone. Those books, that site. Their messages. And that was it...their messages. As much as she might want to count days upon her fingers and deny what her heart told her head, the truth was that she knew these men. She had shared secrets with them that she had told no one else...ever.

It was so easy to do. It was just a computer screen. She would never meet this man...these men she realized now. That made it so incredibly easy to spill secrets that she would never share with anyone else. Him, especially. She wanted to laugh hysterically at how easy it would be now to file those messages into Sven, Mikael and Bjorn folders.

And his folder in particular would be full of those secrets...how hard it was admitting her submissive nature...how she felt like such a disappointment, especially to her mother...how she had never felt like she fit in with her group of friends who valued their careers, their homes, marrying the right man...how hard she had tried to be like that and in the end how badly she had failed. This man knew all of it.

Sometimes he had just listened. Sometimes he had offered words of wisdom or comfort. But never once had he judged. Even those things that she judged herself for...especially those.

Her eyes swam with tears that had nothing to do with getting soap in them and her throat was tight as she looked up at him, "Yes, little things you do for someone you love."

He smiled at her and whispered, "Time for a rinse." Then his hand on her head was pushing her under the water. Her first reaction was immediate. Instinctual. Fight. But then her heart took over...this was him. Him. He would never hurt her. He never could...and she relaxed and opened her eyes. Staring up at him through the refraction of the water and the bubbles.

***

'What the fuck are you doing, asshole?' the voice of reason in his head demanded. The woman just practically admitted she loves you and the first thing you have to do is try to drown her?

It made no sense, Bjorn knew that. But his dark side never did. Yes, maybe she had come close but she had not said the words. The ones he really wanted to hear. So that twisted fuck in his mind felt the need to assert his complete dominance. To test her limits.

Oh, he thoroughly hated himself for it. This...this was beyond breath play...much beyond it. And he had never even fucking practiced this. This was stupid. 'So, why the fuck are you doing it, asshole?' Because he needed that fucking much control.

He stared into her eyes, felt the tension, the fight drain from her. He smiled and released her. Her head had barely broken the surface as she sputtered water when his mouth covered hers. He breathed into her deeply as his tongue plunged into her sweet depths. Once more their breath mingled, became as shared as the life he needed with this woman whom he so desperately wanted not just to love...but to possess...completely...to own.

"Love," he whispered against her lips. "Sex," his tongue outlined her full bottom lip. "Beauty," it ran the full length of the seam of those swollen lips, begging and pleading for entrance. "Fertility," his hand slipped beneath the bubbles and slowly rubbed circles over her womb. Then he reluctantly moved lower still, resting on the outside of her bare mound, "Gold."

His fingers slipped lower into her wet folds, slippery in a way that not even the water could account for, "Seiðr...sorcery as ancient as time itself." They slipped just inside of her, but remained still, denying her what she needed just as what he had needed remained just out of his grasp, "War and death too."

His lips ran along hers so close that the air mingled, they shared a breath without even touching. "She is all of those things. Just as you are. Nothing else would ever do, my sweet Freya." His mouth covered hers as she screamed her powerful release into his soul. Her body shook and arched, trying to draw his fingers deeper inside of her. But he held them still. Savoring the feel of her inner muscles contracting and squeezing them.

But still it was not enough. Her orgasm had not even finished when he took his fingers from her, gathered her hands in his and tugged. She faltered a bit, unsteady on her feet as she stared at him in confusion. "Out of the fucking tub," he growled. "Now."

***

Kirsty was dazed. The demon was back. Demons? She reached up to touch his face, but he shook his head. "Don't touch me now," he growled before he pulled her across the cold tiles to the shower. He was silent as he turned on the water. He adjusted the dials. The spray pulsed, then pounded, then softly caressed.

When he was finally satisfied, he plunged her beneath its spray. He arranged her hands on the tiled wall. Spread apart and above her head. "Open your fucking legs, my sweet little slut." His hand slapped her bare bottom and she jumped. The wetness made the impact more pronounced. She felt the sting burn in a new and exciting way.

"Spread those sexy thighs wide, baby," he growled as she felt his teeth sink into the soft tissue where her neck met her shoulder. He pinned her like that as she obeyed. His fingers plunged inside of her once more, finding that special spot. She was not certain if his order to hold back still applied, but she could not have if she wanted to as her body took the relief his fingers offered.

But as quickly as his fingers had invaded her, they were gone. Her knees were weak and she whimpered in the unrequited need. Then she felt his body cover hers. His fingers laced through hers on the cold tile as the wet denim of his jeans chafed the back of her thighs. His t-shirt seemed almost as scratchy as the wool of Mikael's shirt had against her bare back as he pushed her forward.

Her eyes flared wide. Her fingers grasped his even tighter. She gasped as she felt him enter her. He was hard and thick. There was nothing soft or gentle about it. He pushed inside of her deeper. "Come for me, my sweet fucking Freya. Come on my hard cock as I fuck you," his voice was guttural, feral even as his body plunged violently inside of hers.

There was an edge of pain to it, he was deeper than he ever had been...than anyone had been. The pleasure overshadowed the pain, consumed it, and blended with it until the two became one. Just as they were in that moment. If her body had been on fire with this man before, this was throwing petrol on those flames as they arched and raged to new heights...and depths.

She bit her lip from screaming, but only managed to muffle the cry that she could not stifle as her body tightened and drew him impossibly deeper still. "Yes," he raged as the demon surged inside of her, "Yes, come for me, my sweet Freya."

She almost collapsed against the wall. Her body was already clinching and pulsing around him. She was so fucking full that there was simply no more room for those muscles to tighten even more. But that was what her body wanted...what it needed...what it simply had to do.

The result was an aching pain low in her abdomen...like a period cramp, sort of, but intensified by the pleasure that simply would not abate. She hung there. Suspended on his hard cock as he plunged deeper and faster inside of her. Her body was on overdrive...unlike anything she had ever known.

Each stroke was deeper, more painful than the last, but still her body responded. Craved his. Craved the darkness. Craved the pain even. She was not sure how long they stayed like that, locked in a carnal embrace as he took her. The water went cold, but it did not matter. The heat of his body warmed her. The fire that burned inside of her generated its own heat.

She heard him growl. It was almost the pained plea of a wounded bear as she felt his pace quicken even more. The short, shallow stabs pressed the head of his cock so deep inside of her that she felt the pressure as if he were trying to invade her very soul. He pressed her forward until her tits too were squashed against the cold tiles.

Still he raged on like that animal in pain. Then the pain was shared as his teeth once more sunk deep into her shoulder. "Mine," he growled painfully as she felt him swelling inside of her. She turned her head and bit her hand to keep from screaming out. But not even her mind knew if it were pain or pleasure that overrode the other as they melded as surely as his body was with hers.

"Fucking mine," he panted as she felt his liquid heat burn inside of her body. His fingers squeezing hers tighter. His teeth sinking so deeply that she feared he had broken the skin. His wet shirt and jeans rubbed her skin almost raw. And his cock pulsed inside of her sore cunt as jet after jet of his hot come filled her. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard...filled her unprotected womb.

Then there was perfect silence. Perfect peace after the storm. His large body still surrounded hers, but somehow it felt different. Like it cradled hers. His teeth loosened their grip to be replaced by the gentle lapping like a puppy might after it accidently bit its owner. His head leaned against hers and she would have worsen that the water warmed again at least against her neck.

She squeezed his fingers gently as she turned her head towards his face. Those green eyes glistened as he whispered, "I'm sorry."

She chuckled and realized too late just how painful that could be with his hard cock inside of her and her own muscles suffering fatigue from how hard and often they had come. She winced and saw him frown. Something shifted in her chest. Her heart skipped a beat at the intense tightness there as she caressed his cheek, "I'm not." She pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

He shook his head, "No, Kirsty, I should not have lost control. It's just that it is all so new..." He frowned.

"I know, Bjorn. But I meant it. I am not sorry. It was incredibly intense granted and I'm not going to lie. I will probably be sore tomorrow, but damn it...I still..." She kissed him softly, "Maybe not all the time mind you. But damn, that was amazing."

He shook his head as he wrapped his arms about her, "Never tire of your depths, sweetheart."

"Yeah, well, you certainly went deep this time," as if to emphasis the point he flexed inside of her. She would have sworn it impossible but her body quaked around his and in an instant she was as weak and needy as if none of it had happened.

"No more, my greedy little cunt." He softly nibbled her ear, "Well, maybe later, but not right now. We both need to finish this cold shower. Then I have a surprise for you."

"Another one?" she chuckled. She whimpered and pouted as she felt him slip from her body.

His hand once more made that stinging contact with her bum. "No pouting. I think you will like this surprise," he said as he stripped the soaking wet shirt over his head and tossed it into the basket. The jeans were right behind it as he stepped beneath the cold spray. His Norwegian blond hair was already damp but it instantly darkened from the water that ran like rivulets down his firm chest and arms.

She could not resist the temptation as she nipped over to the tub for the shampoo and body wash. She did not bother with a wash cloth as she poured the wash into the palm of her hand. Any excuse to touch him skin to skin. He moaned as she began at his fingers and slowly caressed down his arms. She discovered that he was very ticklish as she caressed his underarms and across his ribs.

But she paid a price for that discovery as the other bum cheek reddened and warmed, "That made the top ten of the 'Things You Don't Do to a Dom' list," he teased.

Without the heat of their love making neither wanted to tarry long though. But she smiled as she promised herself...soon. Soon she would explore this thing he called 'service submission.' The idea of running her hands leisurely across his body sounded like anything but 'service' to her though.

Her cheeks reddened to match her bottom as she realized it was not just him that she wanted the excuse to explore at leisure. She wondered how long Mikael's stone walls of friendship would last if she got him naked in the shower. And Sven? Could she manage to coax a smile from him? Yes, she definitely wanted to give this 'service' thing a try...her mother's feminism be damned.

But then he took the body wash from her and it was his hands once more all over her body. How the fuck could her body still want him? But it did. Each place he touched ached and tingled for more of his sweet, tender touch. Until she was softly moaning as his fingers once more slipped between her legs. She blushed as he washed her there too. It was strange; how could she still be shy after... But she was.

He sighed and brushed a kiss to the tender spot where her shoulder met her neck. "We could stay in here all damned night if we are not careful. Every time I get you clean I want to make another mess in that sweet pussy." His thick cock brushed her outer thigh to make his point as his hand covered her lower abdomen and drew her back against him.

He kissed her softly, "But the water is cold...and next time I come inside of you I want you on your back in that huge bed," he whispered as he turned off the water. She shivered and he drew her closer as he opened a cabinet and drew out two over-sized bath sheets. He wrapped one about his waist and the other about her chest and knotted it over her tits.

She wanted to chuckle at the way he pushed her behind him and looked around the door before lacing his fingers through hers and drawing her out into the hall. For some odd reason, it made her feel that they were teens, sneaking around behind their parents' backs. She could not stifle the giggles as she 'snuck' into her room.

But when she looked at him...he was all business and very serious. That dark brooding intensity was back in the depths of those Kelly green eyes and she shivered. In anticipation and the teeny tiniest smidgen of fear.

***

Bjorn breathed deeply and fought back the raging demons. He had spent the whole fucking day ready to throttle Mikael. And the truth was that the moment he was alone with her, he was no better. The 'drowning' thing was among his darkest fantasies. Something he had always thought they might get to one day...or not. But he had pushed it now? Why?

Because you are jealous of your brothers? Because she makes you feel too much? Because you are still afraid of losing her? Because she could not say those words? Or simply because the truth is that you are sicker and darker than your sadistic fuck of a brother? He did not like any of those options. But his time with her was slipping away like sands through the hourglass.

And this one...this one he knew he could handle. It was his specialty. The thing that always got him noticed in the clubs. Hell, he always had subs lining up, begging for it. And he knew it was something that fascinated her. Something he wanted to share with her.

"Sit on the bed, Kirsty," he commanded. He had laid everything he needed out earlier. He watched her eyes widen when she saw the lumps on the bed covered in black cloth. His cock hardened again, "Actually, kneel. Kneel next to it."

He would have never taken himself for a high protocol prick like his eldest brother. In fact, it had always made him a bit uncomfortable when the subs they played with in the clubs knelt before him. But she was different...so fucking different. Her...he longed to see kneeling at his feet. It turned him on. 'Fuck, idiot, she turns you on,' chided that little voice.

He pushed it aside as she whispered "Yes, Master." She sank to her knees on the floor near the bed. Her chin almost touched her chest. Those small, soft hands that could drive him insane were palm up on her spread knees. Though she still wore the towel, it gapped open revealing her tight cunt. Too tight for him to lose control like that very often. Despite the newness of it all, there was no excuse for how rough he had been with her.

But it was time for something softer now. Time to show her...how much he loved her. He frowned, he still was not any more comfortable with those words than she appeared to be. But he knew they were true, whether he liked it or not. Honestly, he had fallen for her when it was nothing more than fucking messages. Her intelligent mind, her caring heart, her submissive nature...how could he not?

But holding her, talking with her, laughing with her that first night, he was a goner. And he honestly did not care. The only thing that remained was to awaken his lovely wife to what was so fucking obvious to him...that she loved him too. That she belonged here with him. Fuck it...with them...as hard as that was right now.

And what he had planned to fulfil one of her fantasies was a good start. He crossed the room and sat on the bed. He turned her body just a bit so that she fit perfectly between his open thighs. He tugged softly on her hair as he ran his fingers through the long wet strands. Wet it was so dark that is was almost mahogany like her bed. It gleamed in the low light. "Beautiful," he whispered.

She blushed and he could almost hear her thoughts. She was not comfortable in her own skin. He cursed their warped society that had made her feel less than what she was simply because of her lush, round, softness that he adored. He leaned down and whispered, "Take off the towel."

Her eyes came open, stared into his. He saw the panic there. Saw her want to fight, to argue. How was it that she could allow him to push her head beneath the water, hold her there and force her body to surrender into his sick need for utter and complete control of her very life...but she could not be naked with him? He took that choice from her as he tugged the end free from between her soft breasts.

His other hand reached down and captured one. It fit so perfectly in the palm of his hand. He had always known it would somehow. His thumb softly caressed it. "One day, sweetheart, I promise you, you will realize how beautiful you are to me."

He smiled, "But until then, I need the same type of trust and submission you give me when I place my hand on your throat. When I pushed your head under the water. I need you to trust me that I will never hurt you. Do you understand me?"

She sighed and looked down at the floor. He could see the tears glistening in her eyes. He knew the 'mind fuck' that modern culture had done to her, telling her constantly that beauty was so thin as to be unhealthy, but still he was surprised at the depths of her pain and insecurity. He wanted to fix it all. He wanted to do what he promised...let her see herself through his eyes. But he knew that would take time. Problem was that when it came to her, he was discovering that he was not a very patient man.

In the end, her response was a slight nod and the whispered words, "Yes, Master."

He shook his head and forced her to look up at him, "Not in this, sweetheart." His thumb brushed the moisture from the corner of those eyes, "In this, I am just your husband, your lover, your friend. This is about more than obedience. It is about real trust. The hard kind. Can you give me that?"

Her throat moved up and down as she swallowed several times. More tears gathered in the corner of her eyes. It was a very long moment that seemed to mock all he wanted with her, but in the end she nodded, "I'll try. I promise."