Page 22 of Valkyrie Restored

Arran threadedhis fingers through my hair, grasping it in his fist and giving it a little yank. One that moved my head into a position where he could devour my mouth. He owned me. He branded me. His lips, his teeth, his tongue, even his hands were in the action. Everywhere they touched, they left a mark soul deep. And little Miss Independent Me sat on my chair like a good girl and let him.

“You’re mine,” he gasped against my lips. “Say it.” He yanked my head back, exposing the length of my neck to his hungry mouth.

“I-I’m yours.” A shot of electricity tingled every nerve ending with those words and something within my soul settled. The heat, the need between us ignited into a multi-station five alarm fire. The kind where they send every firefighter in the city to fight the blaze.

With one hand, he shoved the table away, removing the main barrier between us. “Fuck. I need you. I want you.” He yanked on the arm of my shirt, exposing my shoulder and the top of my breast to his mouth. His hold on my hair tightened, forcing my back into an arch, lifting my chest closer to him as he stood, towering over me.

As he traced the underside of my collarbone with his tongue, I was lost to the sensation. Never before had I realized how sensitive my collarbones were. Needing an anchor, to keep from floating away with all the sensations he was eliciting, I snaked my fingers under his shirt. The warmth of his skin grounded me. To feel his muscles bunch and tense under my wandering hands, to hear his breath hitch when my fingertips dipped below his belt, gave me a feeling of power that was heady. To know he was as much at my mercy as I was to his gave me the push I needed to become myself. “Then what are you waiting for?”

He released my hair and with one move had my shirt whipped off my body while pulling me up into his arms. “This one will be hard and fast. Then I’ll take you to bed where I’ll worship every inch of you.”

“Please.” I yanked at his shirt, wanting to be next to his bare skin, but the jerk just chuckled.

“I don’t think so. I’m kind of liking this dynamic. You, naked and me wearing clothes.” He spun and walked me until my back hit the wall. “Reach between us and take me out. I need to be in you.”

As his mouth descended my chest, licking an ever-tightening circle around my nipple, I followed his directions, reaching between us to pop his button. I slid my hand inside, brushing against his thick hardness. With the other hand, I unzipped him, giving my hand my freedom to move, to stroke him from tip to base and up again, eliciting a deep moan from him.

I did it again. And again. And again, loving the feel of him in my hands. But like him, I wanted to have him inside me, giving it to me hard.

He must have been on the same wavelength because he flicked his tongue over the tip of my nipple before taking the whole thing into his mouth. The feel of his mouth on me, his teeth grazing my nipple was enough to have me tipping my head back as my hands gripped his hair. “More. Harder. Please,” I begged. And this time it was me directing the movements of his head.

The smell of sweat, of lust, filled the air, competing with scent of freshly mowed grass and the baking grain smell that came from too much heat and not enough rain that wafted in through the open windows. The baking scent was unique to the prairies I thought, never having smelt it anywhere else before. But after this, I’d never be able to smell baking bread without thinking of this moment.

He clamped his mouth tighter, sucking on my nipple while his hands dug into my ass. I couldn’t stop rolling my hips against him, feeling the tip of his hard cock rub against my clit. When the pressure became too much for my one nipple to handle, I yanked on his hair, popping his mouth off me.

He grinned up at me. “Yes, lass?”

I glared down at him, so turned on that I didn’t know what I wanted except to feel him on me, in me. His skin. His mouth. His teeth. His dick. I wanted it all and in no particular order. Anything to keep this feeling of euphoria from stopping.

“Is this what you want?” He lifted my body, sliding me over his cock. “Do you want this? Want my hard, throbbing cock inside you?” He did it again and again as moans spilled from my mouth. It was everything. It was nothing. It was all I needed. And it wasn’t enough.

“Stop toying with me,” I growled, giving his hair a firm yank.

He chuckled. “Ahh, lass. You’ll have to do more than that to me if you want control. Your little tugs just make me want to tease you more.”

“Fuuuck.” He lifted me a little higher, notching himself at my entrance, but then held still. I wiggled, trying to force him inside me, but to no avail. He held me in an iron-clad grip.

I pouted, but all he did was to flick out his tongue, wiggling it over the tip of so far unappreciated nipple on the other breast. Shit. What was he waiting for? Did he want an engraved invitation because at this stage I was ready to pull out my calligraphy set and write him one.

“You want this?” He rotated his hips a little, allowing his dick to slide a glorious millimetre into me.

“Yes. Yes, I want this,” I begged. “I need it. I need you.”

“Then hands on my shoulders and hold on tight. They move and I stop.”

My head felt like one of those bobblehead things, the ones where you push against the giant head and it moved continuously without stopping. I nodded so hard, so frequently that under normal circumstances, I would have given myself brain damage. Without hesitation, I released his hair, sliding my hands down to his shoulders where I grasped the shoulder seam of his shirt.

“Such a good, lass.” He pulled me down the same moment he surged up, burying himself in me in one movement. A cry left my lips at the exquisite pleasure that came from the stretch of trying to fit his girth. Neither he nor Hurrit lacked anything in that department. Both were more than well equipped. Even my new,largertoys hadn’t completely prepared me for them.

It was hard. It was fast. It was everything I wanted, everything I needed. He continued to thrust up into me while his mouth toyed with my nipples, moving from breast to another in no discernable pattern. It was all so much.

I lifted my hand off his shoulder to stifle my cry…

And he stopped, holding his dick inside me without moving. It kept me feeling full, but without the movement, I cried out in frustration with a hint of desperation. “Please. Move. I was so close. I need more. Please.” The words spilled from my lips without conscious thought. They probably didn’t even make sense, but I was past caring. I just needed…

“What did I tell you, lass? Where are your hands supposed to be?”

I whimpered. My scrambled brain tried to reason his words. It was like swimming in molasses. Pleasure, need, want weighed down each brain cell, keeping them from joining together.

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