Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 96271 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96271 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
“Good,” Sven said. His hand moved once over Mary’s calf, possessive and absentmindedly soothing at the same time. “Aksel can prepare a technical brief. I’ll contact Erik. You’ll speak to Giovanna and she can bring in her leones.”
Henrik nodded. “And meanwhile—”
He let the sentence hang. Both men looked at us.
I knew with a soft, dreadful clench what meanwhile meant.
Sven finished it. “Meanwhile our little seer-girl fuck toys must be tamed properly, together, and fully introduced to one another’s bodies.”
Mary lowered her eyes at once. I felt the heat rise in my face, though some deeper part of me responded not with embarrassment but with a strange, trembling gratitude. To be named so plainly by men like these ought to have reduced me. Instead it seemed to make my place more solid.
Henrik put his hand under my chin. “Do you understand, lille en?”
“I think I do,” I whispered.
And I did, because I could feel the truth of it: Mary and I had met in the branches of Yggdrasil, in a disembodied state. We must learn to partner in the flesh, under the eyes of our warriors, used together to teach us how to serve more fully as vǫlur.
His eyes stayed on mine another moment, gray and intent. “Good. You may find yourself at the roots of the Worldtree, but you will not rise; this is not a time to seek a true vision. This fuck is for our refreshment, and yours. You may climax as much as you like.”
“You as well, Mary,” Sven said. “Enjoy one another fully.”
They moved us. Sven drew Mary across the bed; Henrik turned me by the hips, onto my back. The furs shifted and whispered beneath my knees and shoulders. Then Mary was above me, lowered carefully until our bodies lined up in the most ancient and blushingly obvious posture of mutual service. My face came against the softness of her inner thighs. I felt her gasp against my own sex a breath later, as if her Herra held her face there, close to my newly bare, endlessly needy pussy.
I made a helpless sound.
“Pleasure one another,” Henrik said.
“Properly,” Sven added. “Not as schoolgirls experimenting. As women of power, given each other to taste.”
Mary’s hands found the fur on either side of my waist and gripped it. I felt the first shy stroke of her tongue, and my whole body jolted. At once I answered, parting her wet pussy lips with my mouth the way I had already learned to do, under my mistress’s command, finding the warm, delicate folds of her with an eagerness that made the heat rush to my face as I understood how thoroughly I yielded to my naughtiest impulses, thanks to my shameful training.
She tasted sweet and intimate and alive. The fact that it was Mary—that this was the girl I had found in the branches, the girl whose exhausted body had trembled like mine in the consultation chamber—made the act feel both tender and degrading in equal measure. I licked her carefully, then more firmly when I heard Henrik make a low, approving growl. She cried out softly into me, and that cry against my own sex sent a flood of wetness through me so sudden it felt humiliatingly virginal.
“Better,” Henrik said from somewhere near my shoulder. “Use your mouth properly, Ilsa.”
I obeyed. Mary did too. The sixty-nine position had always seemed terribly naughty to me, when I had caught glimpses of it in films or even read about it in books. From inside it, it seemed like a dizzying circularity of giving and receiving, tongue on cunt and cunt on tongue, my own need mounting in direct proportion to the little sounds Mary made into me. Her tongue flickered over the place that made my hips strain upward; I answered by circling the swollen nub hidden in her folds until she shuddered.
“Good girls,” Sven said. The phrase made my whole body tighten.
The men undressed around us. I heard buckles, zippers, fabric sliding over skin. Then the mattress dipped under their much heavier weight.
“Stay,” Henrik said to me, one palm on my knee.
Mary was eased a little higher over me, enough that I had to stretch my tongue to lick her while the men positioned themselves. Then everything changed at once as Sven’s huge, hard penis, in a tangle of reddish hair under washboard abs, filled my view.
Henrik’s broad hands spread my thighs farther, pressing them toward my chest to open me fully. The blunt head of his manhood found the swollen entrance to my slick sheath. My mouth opened automatically for Sven.
Henrik thrust into my vagina in one heavy stroke that made me moan up into Mary’s pussy. Sven gave me no time to recover before he put his cock into my mouth. The fullness of both at once—one filling my lips and throat, the other my cunt—obliterated any possibility of coherent thought. Mary cried out above me, because Sven had taken her literally in hand as well, and I watched his fingers enter her.