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He switched to the other nipple, his fingers coming up to pinch and tease the already-hardened nipple that he'd just abandoned. The cold made it pucker and between the feeling of his hot mouth on one breast and the cold air on the other she pressed into him with abandon.
He took her hand into his and moved it to the hardness at the front of his trousers, moving it for her for a moment before returning his attention to her free breast.
When he pulled away, Deirdre tried to keep him pressed in, tried to keep the delicious feeling on her breasts, but he wouldn't be distracted.
With an easy motion he unlaced the belt that held his trousers up. Deirdre's attention automatically fell onto his hardness, standing proud of his body. She took it in her hand, rubbing up and down. Gunnar wasn't going to have any of it.
"Use your mouth."
She went down to her knees, his hardness still in her hand. Uncertain. He could feel the tension building, feel the need inside him. Deirdre gave the head an experimental kiss, looking up to Gunnar for guidance. He took her head in his hands and gently guided her, showing what she wanted.
She could barely take an inch at first, but as she started to take more and more control she found space in her mouth, allowing him deeper and deeper in her throat, each bob of her head seeming to add a little bit more. He could feel release building with each passing moment, his hand tightening on her head, pressing with increasing urgency into her throat.
With a cry he felt himself shoot once, twice into her waiting mouth. Gunnar struggled to calm his breathing as the need inside him continued to burn. He dropped to the ground beside her, pressing Deirdre onto her back.
For a moment Deirdre looked down at him quizzically as he dipped his head between her thighs, and then with the first experimental lick her head shot back to the soft earth, and the question was answered.
His tongue found the hardened bud at the top of her lips, his fingers testing her folds. Slick with arousal, he was able to enter her easily, wiggling his fingers, stretching and exploring her velvety cunt. He enjoyed the way that it seemed to suck onto him, her body trying to get as much pleasure as it could from his ministrations.
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p; Deirdre writhed above him, her body overcome at the new sensations, trying to grasp for something, anything that would help her to withstand the onslaught of pleasure that racked her body. His tongue lapped up the sweet nectar that moistened the way for him.
Gunnar felt his hardness stirring, felt himself readying, but he held himself back, continuing to explore the folds of her pussy with his fingers and tongue. Deirdre's body stiffened, her hands finally finding purchase in Gunnar's hair again and pulling his face into her, her legs wrapping around his head.
The little nub of her clit looked so enticing—he pulled it between his lips and sucked lightly and she let out a howl of pleasure that he had to believe someone must have heard, grinding his face harder into her mound as she rocked herself against him. He let her ride out the pleasure, his fingers continuing to explore her. Preparing her for what was to come.
As she relaxed, letting him free, he spread her legs. Now it was time. Her hips came up off the ground just a bit, settled onto his thighs and lining him up with her. Gunnar's sensitive cock rubbed up and down her entrance, getting the head slick with her arousal. Deirdre purred out her pleasure when he lined up the head with her opening.
He started to press into her, slowly at first. Feeling every surface inside her clinging to every line of his cock. Savoring the heat and pleasure. He needed her every bit as much as she needed him. Finally, they were completely joined, his hardness pressed all the way into her to the hilt.
Her breasts heaved with each deep breath, creating a hypnotic show for the Dane, who waited. His hands were ready at her hips, and after a moment to enjoy the feeling of being completely sheathed inside her he pulled back out, then rocked forward again.
Another thrust. Harder. Gunnar used her hips as a way to get a grip on her, using the grip as leverage to powerfully thrust into her. She was his, and his alone. With each thrust he tried to carve out the shape of his cock inside her, making her remember his shape.
The noises she was making didn't matter any more. Let them hear, let them come and see them. It didn't matter. All that mattered was right there, in his arms, moving her hips to meet his. He could feel her tightening down, the makings of a second orgasm starting to clench all of the muscles in her body tight.
Gunnar picked up his pace, fucking her with abandon as she moved below him.
"Don't stop," she said. Her voice was low and breathy, as sexual as he'd ever heard a woman. He plowed into her, each thrust meeting them, it seemed, deeper than the last. Gunnar could feel his second release approaching, could feel the pull of need. One of his hands moved to her throat, pressing down. Asserting his dominance.
She was his, and he would make her his. He pushed inside again. Harder. Stronger. He could see the pleasure written across her face, feel her pushing back against him as he fucked her. Then, with a last hard push, he exploded inside her.
A moment of deep, harsh breathing, and then he bent down to kiss her. His.
She was finally his.
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One
It was a wet morning when Deirdre met him. The rain had been coming down, light but unceasing, for nearly twelve hours. The village had finally come to her, willing to accept her usefulness when things got bad, something they would never have done if they weren't desperate.
Deirdre had felt the urge to deny them in their time of need, to remind them of how poorly they treated her. Of how she had to pay little'uns to go do her running for her, with promises of sweets and pastries. Just to go get simple things from the town.
But at the same time, desperation was desperation. She couldn't deny them, any more than they could have accepted her. It wasn't in their nature. Brigid hadn't taught her all of this so that she could let her kin die because they didn't know what to do.
So she had come, and as she burned her herbs and sat in a closed room breathing in the smoke and the heady smell started to go to her head, she had to admit that they were right to be desperate. Perhaps they should have been more desperate, because Deirdre had gotten there far too late.
