“They are sensitive from the pregnancy.”
I don’t know what takes over his face, but it transforms into something beyond this world. His lips curl, and his eyes dilate. “That’s all mine,” he growls.
“All yours.” I wrap my other hand around his long length and squeeze. The cold water makes my nipples harden as my breasts float on the surface. I want to slide down on his shaft, but I don’t know if he can handle that yet.
“I love you,” he groans, tightening his hands around the edge of the tub as I change the pace.
I whimper in desire and need for him. I take my other hand and put it between my legs, rubbing the sensitive bud that makes me see stars.
“Aye? Does pleasing me turn you on, Princess? Do you like that?”
I nod, rutting against my hand and searching for something to impale my aching pussy on. “I love it. I want more. I need more.” He slides his right hand over my thighs, and my legs quiver from the rough calluses on his hand. His thumb kneads the folds of my flower, parting them until my clit is unprotected and vulnerable.
His thumb rubs over the sensitive bundle of nerves. My body spasms from the touch. One hand circles my clit, the other tweaks my sore nipple. I cry out, and in return, I squeeze his cock tighter than I mean to, but he thrust his hips forward, possibly looking to fill the pussy that craves him.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says. “I don’t think you understand how much I missed you. I thought about you every second I tried to scale that cliff. I hope you know that.”
“I do.” I start to ride the water with my pussy; the flow and caress against my slit feel good. It’s better than nothing since I can’t have his cock.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about this pussy. About how you taste.” He presses the nub, making me cry out. “About how good you feel.” He presses his thumb harder. “About how tight you are,” he rumbles.
My body burns for him. It needs him. After all this time thinking he was dead, I need to feel reclaimed. I need to feel close to him again.
“Make me yours again, Grim.” The words leave my tongue on a soft whisper, a small breath traveling through the wind, an admission that isn’t meant to be heard but is.
And the primal rumble pulsing in his chest tells me he not only heard it but will do something about it.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Grim
Fuck waiting. I need her now. I want her. The pain won’t be as bad as it was down at the cliffs, and if I can handle that. I can handle fucking my wife.
“Get out of the tub,” I order.
Even though I don’t want her hand to leave my cock, I know in no time I’ll be ten inches deep in that tight pussy. The pussy that has only ever been mine. It’s only experienced my come, my tongue, my length. Fuck, I could come just thinking about it.
“Out!” I say with a tight jaw.
“But are you sure? Your injuries….”
“I climbed a cliff with swords with a shoulder wound from said sword. I think I can handle fucking my pregnant wife.” The words are guttural. In a few months, she will really start to show, and even though she has my last name, soon all shall be able to see that she is claimed. “The thought of you big and swollen with child makes me want to come right now.”
“You’re such an animal,” she says with a small giggle.
“You’ll see just how animal I can be if you don’t get out of this tub right now.”
She stands, and I can’t take my eyes off the way that the water cascades down her, pooling back into the tub. It’s like a waterfall. Her nipples are tight and hard, her breasts swollen from preparing milk, and the slightest swell purses her taut stomach. She climbs out, giving me a flash of the pretty little space that I’m about to squeeze into, and my resolve breaks.
The pain vanishes as excitement pumps through me. I hop out of the tin in one smooth jump. Both of us drip onto the floor as we stare at one another. She looks me up and down, staring at my wounded, almost broken body. I’m fit, but that doesn’t take away from the scars. Her eyes lock onto my cock, making it cry with pre-come.
She tugs her lip into her mouth, nibbling the ruby flesh. “Get on the bed,” I point.
“Yes, sir,” she whimpers. This is a new development. She has never called me that before in bed. I must say, the words only make me want to tie her to the bed and have my wicked way with her.
Sassa gets on her hands and knees, swaying her ass in the air. The natural light flowing into the room makes the water glisten on her skin. I get in behind her, knee-walking on the bed. Her flesh is soft and supple beneath my palms. Bent over, her succulent ass reminds me of a peach I want to bite into.
An inhumane noise shakes my chest as I feel every curve her ass has to offer. The milk-colored skin has a red hue to it, flushed with lust and need. I bring my right hand up and let it fall against the wet skin. She thrusts her ass back, a greedy girl searching for more. Something only I can give her.
I bring my hand down on the other cheek, and a red welt appears. So sensitive, so beautiful.
“Grim, please stop, I need more than this. I need you.”
Maybe next time I’ll play with her longer. Right now, my shaft is in pain from not being deep in her channel yet. Her back calls to me like a siren, beckoning me to ravish it while I take her from the back. I bend down, running my hand along her curves as I kiss my way up her spine, then back down until I kiss her pussy.
My tongue dives in, and I hum into her pussy, singing into the pretty pink flesh. She tastes so good. I flatten my tongue and lick her from the back to the front, rolling over her clit. There’s so much I want to do to her. I have all the time in the world, but not really. I’m too impatient to fill her on my cock.
I want to stuff her smart mouth full of me, but at the same time, I need more than that. My skin is about to explode from my body with so much desire. I don’t know where to touch her. I don’t have enough hands. I rub down her body, her ass, her legs, her stomach, her breasts. I must take in all of her.
I smell her sweet nectar dripping between her thighs, and my nostrils flare. She has a unique scent of lavender and vanilla, and it seeps into my skin, making me want more. I rip my mouth from her blossoming flower and push my fingers inside instead. Mmmm, yes, that is exactly what I want. I fuck her with my fingers until she is dripping down my knuckles. I pull them free, shoving them into my mouth.
My eyes roll to the back of my head as her unique flavor bursts across my tongue. “You taste so good.” I could eat her pussy all day, but my cock is so hard, the tip is turning purple.
I’m already at her leaking, swollen hole, probing the needy flesh with my thick shaft as I settle behind her. She rams herself down on me, taking control because the little princess can’t wait.
“Impatient?” I mouth her earlobe as my hand wraps around to her front, cupping her heavy tits.
“So impatient.”
“You can’t come until I tell you to. That’s what you get for not waiting.”
“Grim,” she whines.
I bring my hand down again, a bit harder than before. She must know who is in charge here. In charge of everything about her in this moment. Her thoughts, her wants, her needs, her body, mind, soul, desire… I own it all.
I’m greedy like that.
I want to milk everything out of her until I know it is mine. I want her to surrender her fight to me in the bedroom because she doesn’t need to always be in control.
I have it.
I can let her rest.
I can give her the control she often seeks.
She just needs to trust me.
I place my hands on her hips. They look wider, preparing for birth. Fuck, I love a woman’s body. It’s so damn impressive and beautiful. Pulling back, my body spasms from how good she feels. She seems tighter than before, wetter, hotter. I must stop because my come is threatening to deflate my sack any second.
She has been the only woman to ever do this to me.
&
nbsp; “Grim?”
“Your pussy. It’s fucking witchcraft.” I scratch my nails down her back, regaining control of myself, and thrust forward.
“Yes! Fuck me just like that.”
I push her shoulders down on the bed, but I’m not getting the position I want. I pull out, causing her to cry from being empty.
“It’s alright.” I yank her by the ankle and make her get off the bed. She trips and catches herself against the wall.
Perfect. Just where I want her.
Hooking my hand on her shoulders, I start a punishing pace that surprises her. It’s hard, fast, unrelenting. If she wasn’t already pregnant, she would be getting pregnant tonight. Her breasts sway back and forth from the momentum, and my balls slap her clit. Her walls start to tighten around me, and stars explode in my eyes.
She has never felt so good. Is it because I thought I’d never see her again? Or is it because she is pregnant? I’m assuming it is a combination of both.
“How many kids do you want, Princess? One, three, five? I’ll give you everything you desire.” I want to keep her pregnant. Something about it is so hot, and it makes me proud that this woman is carrying my seed.
“I want whatever you can give me,” she says.
I hook my finger in her mouth and pull down on her jaw. I spread those cheeks wide, just like she does when she sucks my cock. She whimpers, and the blast of air leaving her mouth tickles my fingers, traveling straight to my sack.
“You can come now,” I say.
She shakes her head, peering over the light curve of her shoulder.
“Are you challenging me? You don’t think I can make you come because you refuse to? Oh, you silly, infuriating woman.”
Sassa spits my fingers out, saliva dripping down her chin. “You stubborn, animalistic man.”
I growl with a curl of my lip and slam her back on the bed. I caress her ankles in my hands and hold her legs back to her head. Her pussy is smiling at me, swollen and wet. “I wish you could see how pretty it looks when I slide back into your hot little pussy. All mine,” I grunt, watching my cock disappear.
This position gets her every time. She wants to play with fire; I’ll give her fuel. “Come,” I croon. I pull out just in time to see her squirt all over me. She soaks my balls, length, and bush. I’m dripping in her come, and my ears ring from her shouts.
I’m not done yet, though.
I slide back in and drop her legs, pulling them straight, so I’m rubbing against her clit with every thrust. Seconds go by, and I have her coming again. I join her, diving into the depths of this cave, spilling everything I am into her.
I’ve never loved like this before. It isn’t just how she feels around my cock, but the love I have for her that fills my heart. She has taught me how to be a better man. A good man, at that. Someone worth calling her husband. My life without her was empty. There was no light. I sat in darkness day in and day out, going through the motions of my life.
I killed and protected. It’s all I did. I thought it was my life’s mission. I was hungry to make this country a better place by ridding the evil taking root. But when I saw her for the first time, bathing in the glow of the moon, I knew that hunting all the darkness in this world would never bring me light.
I had to have my own.
And it is her. She makes what I do, what I stand for, have more meaning than it ever did before. She’s a treasure. If anyone ever wanted to hurt me, to kill me, to torture me, all they would have to do is take her.
They can destroy everything else around me, but I’ll always be alright. If anyone destroyed her? They would destroy me. She’s twisted her way into my soul. I feel her in my body, my blood, my fucking bones. She’s my lungs.
My breath.
My heart.
I thought I was damned to evil and loneliness. I thought the devil had wrapped his tail around me, keeping me close to his flames for everything I did, but maybe the goddesses had a hand on me all along. Maybe they are what sent her to me.
I roll my forehead back and forth on her back, getting myself out of the mushy mood. I’m a damn warlord, not a fucking poet.
For her I am, but that is it! That’s where I draw the line.
“Are you alright? Did I take you too hard?” I lay my hand on the swell of her stomach, worried that I may have been too rough.
She gasps, blowing a piece of her hair out of her face. “That was perfect. The baby isn’t going anywhere. The midwife said sex is healthy. So, have at it.” She spreads her arms out, telling me to take her body or do what I will to it.
I tickle her sides, and she laughs, bringing music to my ears.
If this is the afterlife, she is heaven, because I’ve never felt so happy.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Sassa
It’s been a week since Grim came home, and today is the day my father took his last breath. I sat in the chair next to his bed, holding his hand as the last of his warmth fades. He died with a smile on his face and a tear down his cheek. I told him I was pregnant, and that was it. He smiled, and the last gust of air he would ever inhale, exhaled.
He seems to be at peace.
I lay his hand down on the bed, and Grim’s hand lands on my shoulder. I thought I was ready for his death. I thought I prepared myself for his presence to be gone. But I’m not. I’m not at all. I no longer can have tea with him. I can no longer run from my room, out the window, or anything when I’m mad at him, which seemed to be every day.
I can’t talk to him when I need someone to talk to.
My watery eyes drift around the room, and I stare at everything he touched last. I cover my mouth with my hand to muffle the loud sob. His slippers are by the door. The right one a little more crooked than the left. The mug next to his nightstand was used just this afternoon. He had wrapped his lips around it one last time.
That scares the hell out of me. Death is so sudden. No one ever expects it. The world is such a big place—a good place, a bad place. We are all part of what makes it good and bad. And when death comes, and our souls leave our bodies, the world is still on the cusp of good and bad. But it is what we do with death that matters now.
I can choose to be bad in a world of darkness.
Or choose to be good in a world of light.
I wish there was an in-between, but the world doesn’t like to work like that.
“He’s gone,” I say to the silence. No one is talking, but the love is loud. It fills the space. It almost drowns out death, and I take a deep breath, knowing that that is the good. Love is good. Love is key to not losing yourself in a world full of shadows.
“I’m so sorry, Sassa.” Grim’s deep voice shakes the air in the room.
“Everything he did, he did for the last time. How scary is that?” I walk over to the nightstand where he had a book turned over on its pages. When I flip it over, I realize it is my mother’s journal, and an envelope falls out. My name is written across it.
“Do you want me to leave you alone?” Grim asks, before placing a kiss on my forehead.
I reach for his hand on my arm, trying to gather all the warmth I can. “I want you to stay.”
Footsteps retreat, and the door clicks closed, leaving me alone with Grim, a note, and death. I run my hand over the lettering. It’s perfect. I chuckle to myself. Everything he did always had to be perfect. His reading, his writing, his speech, his clothes, he never stopped trying to be anything other than the best—his best, not someone else’s.
“I don’t know if I want to open it,” I say.
“You don’t have to do anything, Sassa. You can save it until you’re ready.”
“I want to read it with him at the same time, though. I know it isn’t him anymore, but it is, somehow still.” I know that doesn’t make any sense to him, but it does to me. The personality may be gone, but the man I’ve looked at for the past twenty-two years is still lying there, looking the same minus a few grey hairs and wrinkles.
“I understand, my lo
ve. Anything you desire, I’ll do it.”
“Can you just hold me?” I ask, leaning my head against his shoulder as I open up the envelope and take out the neatly folded paper. It has sharp edges, and I smile; he always loved to make his letters as flawless as possible. A perfectionist.
Grim’s hand lands on my stomach, holding me and the baby, as he likes to say. “I’d love to hold you.”
I swallow and take a deep breath. When I open the letter, a pressed lavender flower falls out. My lips tremble as I twirl the letter in the air. My love for lavender only came to be because of my father. I press it close to my heart and stare at the perfect cursive on the parchment through my watery eyes.
My Dearest Sassa,
Oh, my. If you are reading this, I’m sorry to say, little lavender, that I have finally gone home to meet your mother. I want you to know, I wrote this letter a long time ago, while I still had control of my hands. You know me, everything must be perfect.
I want you to know that I don’t want you to feel at fault for what happened to me. Don’t blame yourself. I have been sick for a very long time, and the sickness was something that time could not heal. I didn’t tell you because I wanted us to live our last days together in normalcy. Every smart whip of your mouth made me smile, and I know I miss it already.
I hope you’re reading this with your husband. I wanted you to marry, so you didn’t have to deal with my death alone. I know how you can be. You like to run from things when they don’t go your way, and this is by far not your way. I pushed and pushed because I wanted my strong little girl to have strength she could rely on.
It’s alright to not rely on yourself. It’s alright to search for sanctuary from the people you love. Don’t close yourself away. Don’t escape out the window and run to that spot your mother and I used to go to all the time.
I gasp and cover my mouth with one hand. He knew all this time.
I knew. You carried your mother’s journal everywhere. I found it there the last time I went to visit our spot. You do realize I was with her most of the time while she wrote in that thing, don’t you? I’m glad it became your safe place, because it was ours, too.
The Viking's Bride (Viking Warriors Book 1) Page 22
