Page 6 of Blood of Ancients

He spun me around without a word, saliva stretching from our eager lips. I gasped when he slapped my bare ass, theclapechoing off the walls of my small room. It would leave a red handprint, and I wanted more. He needed to tattoo himself onto me so I’d never forget the way he branded me.

Though I suppose he’d already done that after attacking me with his kinsfolk during my initiate year.

Oh, how times had changed. Back then, he was an imposing bastard who wanted to make my life a living hell. He wanted to scare me from Vikingrune Academy and test my resolve.

Now? He wanted to bring me to the heights of pleasure, test me in a different way, and have his way with me. He wanted me to cry his name out, ripped from my lungs with the harsh way he fucked me.

That’s exactly what I did when I felt his hard cock slam into my pussy from behind, filling my depths. A swift-moving orgasm rocked me, shocking me. “Sven, fuck!”

His fingers embedded in my round ass cheeks. He railed into me again. My chest heaved, tits pressing against the cold stone as he held me in place and plunged his slick cock into my stuffed hole. I was forced to splay my hands out in front of me so his pummeling didn’t send my head into the wall.

My body trembled, my thighs shook, my pussy quivered. My heartbeat matched his rhythmic movements. The sounds of him fucking me reverberated off my skull—his heavy balls smacking into me as he bottomed out inside. His cock railing my wet cunt. His animalistic growls trickling in my ears.

I couldn’t hold back my moans. I knew they would carry out into the hallway and anyone passing could hear us. My next-door neighbors in the nearby nooks had already been accosted by ungodly sounds coming from my dwelling for nearly a month now, and I wasn’t sorry.

Sven grabbed my arms and pulled back, forcing my wobbling ass to press firmly against his belly and thighs. He hugged me, squeezing tight, hands roving down to my belly to hold me in place so he could destroy me and try to feel the bulge of his cock plowing into me.

My eyes rolled. Spit dripped from my mouth. My roaming thoughts vanished. He was quite literally fucking me mindless, and all I could do was moan and mewl.

Bending my arms in a painful angle behind me, a hand closed around my wrists. With his other hand, he jerked back on my hair.

I choked and gasped as my head wrenched back. My tits bounced uncontrollably in front of me. I was so locked into place, so outside of myself, I nearly felt otherworldly.

Then he slammed me into my body, growling in my ear, “I’m going to make sure you never forget this fucking cock, little menace. You hear me?”

I nodded stupidly, blinking, blinded by happy tears and errant blood. Sven Torfen didn’t care that I looked likeCarriein act three. He wanted me forme, not for my appearance, my need for revenge against my brother, or my qualms. Sven had wanted my body and I was helpless to stop him from taking what he wanted.

“I’ll never forget it! I s-swear!” I stuttered, clenching my eyes shut as his dick pumped across my deepest parts and untethered me from my soul.

The sounds of my ass clapped against his body, against his pussy-breaking cock that took no mercy. My weighty tits jumped and slapped against the wall, joining the chorus that was completed by the babbling wet sounds of him pumping into me.

“Ahh!” I cried out, unable to form any coherent words.

His fingers dug into my scalp and wrists, bruising the flesh, and his cock swelled inside me. My eyes burst open, red-rimmed and blurry from the jiggling of my curves and the dripping cornucopia of sweat, tears, blood, and sex.

My legs were giving out. I was ready to face-plant into the wall, only held up by the dastardly shifter behind me, fucking me like I was a bitch in heat.

There was a time to be a badass boss bitch. A leader of Vikings and warriors. A gamechanger.

There was also a time to let it all go, to forget the struggles and embrace my womanhood and femininity and appreciate the strength and possessive nature of the men I had on my side. To let them claim, dominate, and own me.

Now was certainly the latter.

Sven roared and withdrew his swollen cock from my cunt, spraying his cum across my ass and back. I seized from a raucous climax that sent me trembling to my hands and knees, unable to control myself. The feeling ofletting gowas exquisite—unraveling like a dress with its hem drawn out thread by wicked thread, until I was no more.

Neither living nor dead. Just . . . feeling. Ceasing to exist or think on this temporal realm. It was the kind of intensity I lived for. I likened it to a tender moment in Valhalla, feasting with the gods and locked in eternal war, with winged steeds carrying methrough the clouds and my drinking horn always full. Laughter and merriment and constant violence and sex.

Then it was gone, fleeting. Slowly fading until I was left in my sweaty, crawling husk of a body in Midgard, gasping for breath and still shaking with aftershocks.

I wasn’t sure how long it lasted. At times it felt like hours, others it felt like seconds. Such was the nature of a good shag—you lost track ofeverything, caught only in the moment.

Minutes later, Sven and I sagged on my bed, arms and legs akimbo. Though it was the middle of the day, I was ready for a damned nap. Some food. A shower. The order didn’t really matter.

I was content. My filthy body was locked in Sven’s, my head tucked in the crook of his shoulder, breathing in his scent of sex and steel and domination.

Having Sven all to myself was exquisite. Typically, Grim Kollbjorn joined us—the bear shifter Sven used to call an enemy and rival. Surprisingly, the two adversarial shifters in my pack had become quite buddy-buddy when it came to me. They often worked me over together, to bring me to the heights of ecstasy.

This was just as good. I couldn’t say it wasintimate, because Sven had just beaten my pussy up like it owed him money. My whole body was sore—the best kind of soreness.

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