Soft, unblemished skin covered the span of her back. Her ass wiggled as she shifted, and Njáll’s cock jumped. He growled, shoving his own pleasure aside.
Tremors twitched in her muscles as he worked his oils over her shoulders. A low moan rattled in her chest, the sound filled with relief.
He started at the base of her skull, his thumbs kneading the knots there. He moved down the long line of her spine, his touch firm but worshipful, drinking in her sweet noises. They were beautiful torture.
“Relax for me,” he whispered, leaning down so his hot breath fanned over her shoulder.
A shiver danced over her spine, and he chuckled.
“Demon,” she murmured, half moaning as he dug into a particularly stubborn coil of knotted muscles.
“A demon who is going to worship you, Elara.”
Under his hands, she began to soften. Her body melted as the oil heated her skin. He worked his way to her hips, his fingers dimpling the soft flesh, finding the tension she carried in her thighs and coaxing it away.
Slowly, her breathing quickened, her body squirming against his fleeting touches.
“Njáll. Please,” she moaned.
“Please what, kona?” he whispered, nipping at her ear.
“I need more.”
“Then more you shall have, little flame.”
Njáll flipped her over, his dark eyes raking over her body as she squeaked.
The oil made her skin glisten in the firelight. Her nipples were tight, aching peaks. Arousal glimmered between her thighs. The sweet, musky scent filled his lungs.
The Jarl in him wanted to drive himself into her until they were both senseless, but the demon in him—the part that lived to worship—wanted more.
“You are so needy,” he purred, trailing a finger through her soaked slit.
He sank to his knees between her thighs, his head bowing before her center as if it were the only holy thing left in this world.
The first time his tongue flicked over her clit, Elara let out a broken, high-pitched sob. A sound that echoed off the rafters.
“Njáll…”
“That’s it,” he snarled, his hands anchoring her hips to the furs, his nails biting enough to leave crescent marks. “You will know nothing else but my mouth and the pleasure it brings you.”
She writhed, her motions useless as he kept her pinned in place.
The tip of his tongue circled her clit, spiraling her higher and higher. Her fingers tangled in his braids, yanking and making him howl.
“What a feral flame you are.”
“Yes,” she huffed, the tiny growl adorable.
Giving in to her demands, Njáll closed his lips around her clit, a low growl vibrating her sensitive skin. A rush of her arousal coated his face, spurring him on. He suckled, steadily swirling his tongue around her clit as her nails raked down his back, leaving marks that would last for days.
“Njáll. Oh… I can’t… I’m gonna…”
“Yes. Come for me. Soak my face, Elara.”
She came with a violence that shook her entire frame. Her legs locked around his neck, her heels digging into his back as she cried out his name in a never-ending chant that made pride swell in his chest.
This time, he didn’t stop.
