Ægir’s Bride Ch. 05

"That is good enough. And I promise that I will always respect how hard this is for you. That I won't take it for granted. That I will treasure the trust you are placing in me," he bent and kissed the new tears away from the corners of both eyes. They were so much like her...like the way she made him feel. Salty and earthy but sweeter than summer's first wine. "Thank you, my love," he said as he sealed it with a tender kiss to her lips.

He positioned her back so that she was facing forward and once more ran his fingers through her hair. "You know I love your hair."

She chuckled, "Being ginger is not easy. Besides the obvious freckles and burning at the least little bit of sun, no one finds it particularly attractive. I always hated the dolls my mother bought me...so thin and all that light blond hair. I used to..."

"No dolls like that for our little girls then. I want them to realize that they are as beautiful as their mother," he said as he tugged gently at a knot.

***

Kirsty wanted to blame the modest pain for the tears that clouded her vision and made her head swim. But she knew it would be a lie. His words simple as they were touched her deeply. She had tried so fucking hard to come to terms with the idea not of being married to these men, not of loving them, she was beginning to realize just how fucking easy that would be...she had only to allow herself really.

But babies...the children that she had begun to long for, especially after the break up with Raj, when she first heard the ticking of her biological clock and realized that she had wasted six years. That she did not want to waste more. The idea of getting pregnant...like this...was still hard, especially after what had happened in town yesterday.

Mikael's words last night had confirmed what she suspected...to Sven she was nothing more than a brood mare. Something...someone to give him the sons he wanted. To continue their legacy.

But the way he said it, the fact that he spoke so tenderly of daughters, girls, not merely fodder for the sea, hands to work the nets, but little girls who would play with dolls as much as they ran in the fields. She felt the tightness in her throat grow. It was almost as if some invisible hand was constricting around her neck. For the first time, getting pregnant was not so scary. Not with him. Not with a man who spoke of little girls and worried about their dolls.

She reached up and wrapped her arm about his neck, drawing him down until their lips met. "I'd like that," she admitted a bit shyly.

He smiled and his large hand moved to cover her lower abdomen, "We'll get back to work on that in a bit then. But right now, stop distracting me, woman. I spent half of last night fucking planning this whole seductive scene."

She chuckled, "Yes, Master."

He untangled her arms from his neck and turned her back around. Once more his fingers caressed her scalp. If the man ever wanted to give up fishing he would make a damned good masseuse. Then she felt something else, the teeth of a comb scraping lightly against her head. He sectioned her wet hair off. But what came next shocked her...he began to actually braid it.

He chuckled, "Rope, hair? What's the difference?" Then he paused, "Actually, huge difference. Your hair is so fucking soft. I could just touch it all night long...if I did not have other plans."

He picked up something from under that cloth. It took her a moment to realize that it was rope. He wove it through her hair then used it to tie off the ends. Several feet of it trailed down her back. "There now. That is done. Against the wardrobe."

His voice was doing funny thing to her tummy. Butterflies danced there as he helped her to stand. "Facing it for now," he said. Then she felt the gentle pull of the rope as he laced the free end of it through the center ring on the wardrobe and tied it off. Her hair was pulled up, not enough to be painful, but it effectively got it off her back and out of the way.

She frowned as he lightly tapped her bottom, "Don't go anywhere."

"You guys only say that when rope is involved," she teased.

"What can you say...you played with dolls as a little girl, all we had was rope," he replied as she watched him in the mirrors gathering something else into his hands.

"And all the little girls were just begging you to tie them up, I bet?" she teased.

"No, only the big ones. When we were little, it was usually me that Mikael tied up...to keep me out of his way." Did he realize how much he revealed with those words, she wondered.

But then she had other things to think about as he slipped another rope around her wrist and lifted her arm. He secured this one to an outer ring and repeated with her other hand. In the end, her body was pressed securely against the wood, both hands outstretched to the side and her hair acting as an anchor.

He kissed her shoulder softly and she knew what he was going to say, "Don't go anywhere, right?" she teased.

"I do so love a smart woman," he laughed as his hand landed much more firmly on her bottom. It stung this time, "But not a smart mouthed one. Remember that. I have several ways to keep that pretty mouth occupied. Gag balls among them, sweetheart."

His hand caressed her other cheek before giving it an equally sound smack that echoed around the room, "Of course, my favorite thing to stuff in that pretty little mouth would be my cock. I bet you'll look so fucking sexy with tears in your eyes and drool running down your chin as you gag on it."

How the fuck could he make something that sounded so demeaning and disgusting sound sexy, she pondered. "Spread your legs for me, my sweet Freya."

Her body went almost limp against the hard wood. It was instantly on fire...a fire that seemed unquenchable. Her nipples were painfully hard pressed against the smooth cold surface. She blushed as she realized that she could almost feel the wetness leaking down the inside of her thighs.

Only the solid blow to her bare bottom brought her back to reality, "I said, spread those soft thighs for me," his voice was low...controlled. He held no threat, only command. And her obedience was instant this time.

Then his fingers were once more buried deep inside of her, "You do not have permission to come," he whispered against her ear. "Good girls must earn their orgasms. And you want to be my good girl, don't you?"

She was whimpering. Moving and undulating against his hand between her legs. But no matter how hard she tried she just could not seem to get enough, to push herself over the edge. She wanted to come so fucking badly. Then she froze as she realized that she could not. As on fire as her body was she knew...just knew...that she would not be able to. Not without those words...not without his permission. She trembled as that realization filled her mind.

"Trust me, my love. Trust that I adore and am fascinated by these lush curves that just fucking fit my hands so goddess damned perfectly," his hands caressed her breasts, cupping and weighing them before lightly squeezing them. One hand travelled to her throat and squeezed ever so lightly, "Trust me with the very air you breathe."

Did he know how much easier that one was for her? She knew that he would never harm her physically. That was easy. But still some corner of her mind screamed...'chubby chaser.' Men like him never really wanted to be with women like her, they just wanted to use them.

As for this one...how was it even fucking possible. How could he so easily take control of such a basic physiological response? Orgasms were automatic...your body reached a threshold of excitement and as long as your mind did nothing to stop it then it just happened. So how had this man seemed to put up a wall around that? A wall that only he held the key to the gate.

"It's okay. I promise you...everything will be fine. Trust me, my sweet Freya."

And just as easily as her body had stopped at his command, its flames instantly flared to a raging inferno. His fingers inside of her did not even move. Her hips did not either. But still those contractions milked them, sucked them deeper. She cried out as her body exploded around them.

"Yes, just like that. Come on my fingers. On my hard cock. Soon, my love, you won't need anything at all. Just my voice...just those words. I'll be able to sit across the room and watch as you come over and over again. Helpless to stop your body from giving me what I want," this time his fingers plunged all the way inside of her and the orgasm that was already one of the most powerful she had ever felt went to another level as she rode them, took what he offered.

Until her knees buckled. She collapsed spent. Only the rope, his fingers still inside of her and his thigh between her legs held her up. His damp head leaned between her shoulder blades as he pressed tender kisses there.

"I know, sweetheart. I really do know how much I am asking of you. I know how hard this is. Being naked and vulnerable like this. And especially the power I hold over your orgasms. I know that is a lot to ask. But know this...I love you. I will never hurt you." He turned her head to face him, "Thank you. Thank you for trusting me."

Her throat was dry and tight. She knew there was no way that she could speak. Not a single word. Especially not the important one that pounded almost like a migraine at her temples. Right or wrong...too fucking quickly or not...she knew that she loved this man. Loved him in a way that she thought only existed in the fantasy world of her books. But all she could fucking do was nod through the tears.

He kissed her lips so softly that it was like the feel of a lady bird walking along your arm...more of a whisper of what could be than what was. "Now, let me give you a taste of another of your fantasies," he whispered before turning back towards the bed. She moaned and whimpered...as he retreated. Nothing he could offer her was worth his retreat just then. She only wanted him to stay close...his touch...him.

As if he sensed it, he returned quickly. She could see in the mirror, the long thick strands of leather that hung from the handle in his hand. Her breath caught in her throat. It was huge. One of the longest and thickest that she had seen. And she had seen a couple. Not just on that site, but in the sex shop where she bought the corset. But none of them were as beautiful, as well crafted as this one.