Page 4 of Valkyrie Restored

As much as every cell in my body wanted me to walk her home, to stay by her side and keep her safe, my head disagreed. I stomped off towards my empty house. Each step heightened my anger. How could she be so careless? Did she not do any studying before moving into the rural countryside? It’s not like we didn’t have predatory animals in the area even if bears weren’t truly a concern.

By the time I slammed my way through our back door, my ire remained high. I could only hope a shower would work, but I had my doubts. After being calm and stoic for the past two plus centuries, anger like I never felt before burned within me. And it had for the past year.

Right about the time I first met Elin.

Fuck.

Now that was something I didn’t want to explore.

3

Elin

I lickedmy lips as I remembered how his chest looked when he stood in front of me, berating me. Not that I didn’t think I deserved it—it had been stupid to just stand there—but the man could have at least asked if I was alright. Or even introduced himself instead of berating my intelligence and then storming off. I watched his tight, jean clad butt as he stormed away. Crap, that guy was sexy which was weird. I didn’t recall thinking that about him or at least that strongly the few times I’d seen during the previous year. Was I that hard up? I didn’t think I was, but he certainly woke up parts of me that hadn’t be awake in forever. Well, some of them had been awake, but none of them had been properly serviced except with the help of my battery-operated pleasuring devices for a couple of years.

“That was interesting,” I muttered. Somehow, having had him here, in my presence, changed the dynamic of my trip in the woods. Where I’d been full and content before, now I was left with an empty void inside me. As if he’d taken all the sunshine away with him when he walked away.

Where had he even come from? I hadn’t heard him moving around in the woods and it was far too cold to go for a swim. While people did use the lake for polar bear dips, they also had heavy clothing and warm drinks on hand for the moment they emerged from the water. The man—either Hurrit or Arran, I wasn’t sure which—had neither. He’d been empty handed, wearing those well-fitted jeans, sturdy boots, and a tight long-sleeved T-shirt.

Again, not that I minded watching him leave.

Around me birds began to sing and the rustle of the grasses in the soft breeze perfumed the air and my ears. I hadn’t noticed it before because I’d been focused on the bear and the musical quality of his deep voice, but from the moment he began to speak, there’d been no other sound. Even the wind stopped blowing.

Just another strange thing about the whole encounter.

Not feeling comfortable in the woods by myself any longer, I followed the path the man made in the grasses until I needed to veer right towards my house. Each step, a note of self-recrimination, berating myself for being such a newb in his presence. Maybe if I’d talked more, he’d have walked me home instead of storming off, giving me more time to bask in his presence.

The whole experience had been weird. I hadn’t felt a moment of fear while I stared down the bear—wait that wasn’t exactly true. My brain felt every ounce of fear. It ran through every possible scenario from maulings to climbing trees to jumping into the lake and drowning… or at least one part of it had. The other part, the one that controlled my body’s functions hadn’t reacted at all. My heartbeat, my respirations, even my muscles all remained cool and calm. It had almost been like my feet had been glued to the ground because while one part of me screamed to run away, nothing had happened. Yet I’d been able to move when the rest of my mind decided to because as I stood looking at the bear, I’d lifted one of my feet off the ground to make sure. And when my brain had screamed to run away when the man stood between the bear and me, my feet did in fact move… they stepped toward the man until I was able to place my hand on the small of his back.

His. Naked. Back.

My hand still throbbed from the feel of his tightly coiled muscles underneath it. It made me think of a documentary I’d watched about an older band, the Beatles, and how women had screamed and told people that they’d never wash the hand that touched a band member. I felt the same way. I didn’t want to wash my hand in case I lost that feeling.

I made a pit stop into my workshop to drop off the basket. I planned to deal with the contents after showering and eating. Adrenaline may not have rushed through my veins during a fight or flight response, but my brain felt like it had. A dull throb ached at the back of my head. Food, water, and some medication would hopefully help.

As I stripped, I couldn’t help but remember how I wanted to strip down the man—I really needed to find out if he was Hurrit or Arran—as he stood before me. His long, black hair, free from the braids I’d seen them in all other times, flowed over his shoulders and chest. And even though my gaze initially travelled from his feet up, his hair pointed a direct path to his six-plus pack and that little trail of dark hair that led down. I’d been struck almost dumb when I’d seen the outline of the package he sported in those jeans. They may have done amazing things to his butt when he walked away, but it paled in comparison to what it did for the front of him. No one could naturally be that big… at least I didn’t think so.

It almost scared me, but it hadn’t stopped me from licking my lips at the sight. It had been part of the reason why I hadn’t been able to speak when he’d first spoken to me.

Even now, my mouth watered as the hot water heated the shower.

Pushing him from my mind since thinking about him that way would only be an exercise in futility, I tried to remember every moment of the bear encounter before his arrival. The closest I’d ever seen a bear other than TV was the couple of different zoos I’d visited during my world wonderings. Yet somehow they never seemed as big as this one. When the bear stood on its hind legs, it stood a head or two taller than the man and he was taller than most.

And when it beat its chest like a gorilla, I almost laughed. None of the wildlife documentaries I saw ever had a bear do that. It couldn’t have been real, but if not, then what the hell happened in that clearing?

Suds from my homemade shampoo ran over my body as the water cleaned it from my hair. My hands trailed, using the suds as soap, spreading the strawberry mint smell to my skin. The mint tingled a bit, invigorating me.

If I thought the bear’s actions were suspect, then I had to include my neighbour. Not only did he arrive in time—and silently—to save me from the bear—if I’d ever even been in danger—but he knew some strange lyrical language that appeared to get the bear to go away. It wasn’t a language I recognized and yet somehow it almost seemed familiar. Like I’d heard a related language before but yet I knew I’d never.

The throbbing between my legs increased as thoughts of him crowded my brain. Between his high cheekbones, fathomless, dark eyes, and his lush, full upper lip on top of the rest of his body, it took only a few flicks of my fingers over my clit to have me clenching.

While the orgasm was nice, it wasn’t enough. I needed something in me. Something to make my body believe the daydream.

I may not remember if I was ever a girl guide when growing up, but no one could ever say that I didn’t abide by the motto of always being prepared. I reached into the white container attached to my shower wall and pulled out one of my larger waterproof toys.

With a sigh, it slid in—relief—but when I turned it on, I couldn’t keep the moans from leaving my mouth. I flicked the speed button, turning it on high. This would be fast and dirty, just the way I liked it. Anything too long with my toys and my body wouldn’t cooperate. A lesson I learned long ago.

Long black hair pulled back into a braid. Shorter dark hair. One face clean shaven. Another with a light scruff over his cheeks, chin, and moustache area. Bodies toned with muscle rubbed against mine. Four strong hands stroked, petted, and squeezed, drawing more moans from me. But it was the deep, rumbling voices that whispered in my ear that made the next orgasm crash over me.

---