Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 125077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
For a heartbeat, I considered obeying him. The part of me that had been trained to submit, to please, to follow orders, urged me to withdraw my hand, to deny myself the pleasure that hovered so tantalizingly close.
But something else rose within me—a fierce, sudden defiance that burned through the fog of submission. Who was this man to command my pleasure? What right did he have to control my body, my sensations, my release? He wasn’t Sven. He wasn’t like Sven, even.
“No,” I whispered, the word barely audible even to my own ears. “No.”
With deliberate slowness, I resumed the circular motion of my fingers, pressing harder against my clit, driving my other fingers deeper inside my slick channel. My eyes remained fixed on the screen, on Marmareus using Camille’s mouth, on the leather restraints that bound her body.
The pleasure rebuilt rapidly, a tidal wave gathering force. I could feel it cresting, ready to crash over me. My breath came in short, sharp gasps, my muscles tensing as I approached the precipice.
“I said stop, Mary,” Marmareus growled, his voice harder now, even as he continued to thrust into Camille’s mouth. A chill went down my spine as I understood how closely he could follow my lewd, forbidden actions.
His command only fueled my determination, though. With a defiant whimper, I pressed harder, moved faster, driving myself toward the peak with single-minded intensity.
The orgasm hit me with stunning force, tearing a strangled cry from my throat. My body convulsed, inner walls clenching rhythmically around my fingers as waves of ecstasy radiated outward from my core. My vision blurred, the cell around me fading as pleasure overwhelmed my senses.
And then, as the physical sensations reached their zenith, I got the vision I had craved. The familiar rushing sound filled my ears, and I felt myself being pulled away, up and out of my body, into the branches of Yggdrasil.
I floated there again, among the ancient boughs, my consciousness traveling beyond the confines of the cell, exploding the physical boundaries of my body. Below me, I saw the nine worlds connected by the immense trunk and branches of Yggdrasil. Above, the sky stretched endlessly, stars wheeling rapidly in patterns both familiar and utterly alien.
My vision adjusted to this ethereal realm, and I felt myself rushing out from the trunk, along one of the branches, until I saw a scene unfolding, as if through the opening of a jeweled egg, in the now-familiar frozen seascape of the ice-covered bay, gleaming silver-blue in the pale winter sunlight.
I hovered above it, a scene of breathtaking beauty and—my völva sense told me—terrible significance. The air seemed alive with suspended particles of frost, tiny diamonds hanging in the atmosphere, surrounding the two figures who stood facing each other on the frozen plain.
My heart lurched painfully as I recognized them both. Sven, my true master, stood tall and proud, his golden hair catching the sunlight, his broad shoulders wrapped in a fur-lined cloak that rippled slightly in the gentle wind. Across from him, Leo Marmareus stood equally tall, equally proud, though darker in coloring and dress. Between them lay an expanse of perhaps fifty feet, a no-man’s-land of pristine ice.
Behind Sven, in the distance, I could make out the sleek, deadly lines of the longship, its dragon-headed prow rising proudly from the ice where it seemed nature had overtaken it. Sons of Odin moved about it, their forms blurred at this distance, but their purpose clear—they were preparing for something, something important.
Behind Marmareus, the soaring spires of the steel cathedral reached toward the pale sky, its brutal architecture both beautiful and foreboding. Men in dark clothing—Pretorian Guardsmen, I realized—stood at its perimeter, watchful and ready.
The two men began walking toward each other, their strides purposeful, but not aggressive. They met in the center of that expanse of ice, and to my astonishment, they clasped forearms in the ancient gesture of warriors who respect each other despite their differences.
“Hallstrom,” Marmareus said, his voice carrying clearly to me even at that distance. “Your reputation precedes you.”
“Marmareus,” Sven replied. “I am glad to know you at last.”
The vision dissipated, crumbling like frost under the morning sun. I blinked, disoriented by the abrupt transition from the vast, cosmic landscape of Yggdrasil to the confines of my cell. The view screen still glowed across from me, and what I saw there made my breath catch in my throat.
Marmareus had withdrawn his glistening cock from Camille’s mouth. Her lips were red and swollen, tears tracking down her flushed cheeks. With deft, practiced movements, he unclipped the leashes from her collar, his expression a mask of controlled desire.
“Turn around,” he commanded, his voice low and rough with arousal. “Present yourself properly.”
I watched, transfixed, as Camille awkwardly maneuvered her body, hampered by the restraints that still bound her wrists to her belt. Marmareus helped her, his large hands guiding her movements with firm authority until she was positioned on her knees, her face pressed against the cushion, her bottom raised high in offering.