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"I'm afraid," she whispers.
My heart threatens to tear itself into shreds. "Of me?"
"Of myself. Of us." She swallows. "Of l-love. In my world, love is pain, Dax. It hurts so damn bad."
"Not any longer, Valkyrie," I vow, brushing my lips across hers. "Not with me. My soul is bound to yours. Any hurt you suffer, I suffer too. Any pain you feel, I feel too. I'll let the realms fall to darkness before I allow you to come to harm. That's my oath to you."
Her eyes flit across my face. "You mean that, don't you?"
"Every word."
She watches me for a moment, drawing her courage around her. And then she nods, so much braver than she has any right to be after everything she's endured since the Forsaken found her in the bar. Gods. Whatever life she lived before, she must have been fierce. "Then show me what it means to let a Fae love me, Dax. Show me what it means to let you love me."
I groan, pressing my face to her throat as an endless well of gratitude pours through me. I send up a silent prayer, something I haven't done in two-thousand years…not since Freyr died on the battlefield andÁlfheimrfell.
Tyr, give me strength to defend her. Odin, grant me the wisdom to guide her.Freyr, give me the Light to shine upon her path. Freya, teach me the patience needed to love her carefully. Do not let me fail her.
I drag my hand up her thigh, kissing my way down her chest at the same time. My lips close around her nipple as I slip my hand beneath the waistband of her pants. She gasps, her back bowing from the bed.
Her sweet sounds spur me on. I lick and bite, stroking my fingers against her mound, teasing her. She shifts restlessly beneath me, eager for something she doesn't yet understand. She will soon.
When I can't stand it any longer, I slip my hand lower. My cock presses against my zipper, a desperate growl crawling up my throat. She's hot, wet silk against my fingertips, burning hot. Ah, Gods. She's so eager, so ready.So wet.
I run my thumb along her bare slit, unsure if I have the control for this.Nei. I'll find the control for this. For her, I'll move mountains if that's what the bond demands of me. Whatever it takes to prove to this fierce little warrior that she's safe in my hands in every way, every day.
"Rissa, Valkyrie," I groan against her breast. "You're the sweetest silk."
"Dax, please!"
"What do you need,lyseste ljós?"
"You!"
"You have me." I nip her skin, exploring every inch of her folds, fascinated by the way she trembles beneath me. I feel her again, like a little ball of living sensation in the corner of my mind. It quivers and expands with every caress. I can't see what she does, can't read her mind. But her pleasure feeds mine, creating a harmonic that sends fingers of sensation dancing up my spine.
Gods. How much more powerful will it be when she allows me into her soul? When she accepts the bond between us and forges a bridge between us that nothing and no one will ever be able to destroy? There will be no keeping me out then. I'll know exactly how she feels, and she'll know the same.
I press my thumb to the little bundle of nerves begging for my attention. She gasps, her Light blazing bright as a sun again. It engulfs me in a crackling nimbus, lighting me up from the inside out. My own power rises hot and swift in response, surging through me in a flood.
It pours into Rissa, pulling a cry from her lips. "Dax!"
I try to pull back, thinking she's afraid, but before I can move, she digs her nails into my back.
"Please," she cries. "Oh, God, please."
Only then do I realize it isn't fear pouring from her. It's pleasure so intense it borders on pain. She isn't frightened by my power or the intensity of my desire. She revels in it like a cat bathing in the sun.
Somehow, this mysterious little Valkyrie who doesn't even understand the power she yields let alone know how to control it, figures out how to use it to draw more of mine into her. She drinks from me again and again, filling herself so full of Fae power the entire room burns bright.
"Now, let it pop like a balloon," I growl, grinding my thumb against that bundle of nerves. "Let it spill over you, Valkyrie."
She fumbles, trying to sort out how to do that. I don't offer instructions. She got this far on her own. She can figure this part out too. It's instinct with her.
It doesn't take her long to figure out how to do this part, either. Within moments, she's figured out how to do what I demand. I don't warn her what's about to happen. If she wants to play with Fae power, she's going to get burned.
She lets the well inside of her pop. A tidal wave of sensation roars through her—every single thing I feel hitting her in a shockwave of emotion. She gasps, her eyes going wide as fierce desire and piercing need rip through her.
"Please," she gasps, her voice strangled. She writhes beneath me, caught in a web of her own making.
