And she was his.
A breathless giggle escaped her, making her breasts shake and her nipples pebble. She extended a hand, beckoning him with a curl of two fingers.
“Are you just going to stand there, Jarl, or are you going to join me in our furs and tend to your duties?”
Thirty-Two
Njáll
The dust and grime from his travels clung to his skin. All the aches in his limbs vanished when Elara’s glittering green eyes twinkled at him from under her fiery mane.
Her perfect pink nipples tightened, a flush coloring the swells of her breasts.
The flames from the fire made her glow like a goddess. One he longed to worship. She sat up, her knees spreading across the furs, her nails dimpling the creamy expanse of her bare thighs.
Blood rushed south, Njáll’s cock harder than steel in his trews.
The vision of his pretty kona flushed with desire and waiting for him chased away his burdens, his troubled thoughts, replacing them with her passion, her power, her love.
Even if she didn’t understand what it was yet.
Njáll knew. Had always known.
Even as he tried to ignore it, pretending it was witchcraft that brought them together when it was so much more.
Her mouth twitched, the tip of her tongue tracing over her lower lip. A throaty groan mixed with a growl in his chest, his fingers deftly loosening the threads at his waist.
A dangerously sweet voice lured him in, the sound too enticing to ignore.
“Are you just going to stand there, Jarl, or are you going to join me in our furs and tend to your kona?”
Something primitive took control, and Njáll tore the wool trews from his thick thighs, tossing the tattered material aside. His little flame’s eyes went impossibly large as a breathless sound made her breasts bounce.
He crossed the room in three long strides, yanking the furs from the bed.
Gods, she was the most stunning creature to ever walk the earth. And she was his.
A thin sheen of sweat glistened on her skin, inviting him to drink from her.
“You are mine,” he growled, gathering the hair at her nape and tugging softly until their panting breaths mingled in the small space between their mouths. “Say it.”
The glacial command slid off his tongue, her musky arousal making his nostrils flare. Dull claws dug into his forearms as she scratched at the muscled skin.
“I’m yours,Jarl.”
Njáll burrowed both hands in her curls, fisting the soft strands as he claimed her mouth. Nothing gentle remained in him, desperate to devour every drop of her until she only remembered him.
Only spoke of him.
Only knew him.
She whined a delightfully needy sound, her wet heat grinding against his cock. Njáll deepened the kiss, licking into her waiting mouth, swallowing the soft sounds of pleasure she treated him with.
Nails scraped along his spine, making blood pool beneath the surface. Tiny arms wrapped around his neck and she tugged him closer, matching his fierce intensity with each buck of her hips.
Her tongue tangled with his, neither of them willing to submit to the other.
Each drank from the other like a warrior who had been stranded in the wilds. His fingers moved between them, finding her clit, circling it softly.
