Page 2 of Last Thrall of Asgard

He took me into his mouth, and I groaned, gripping the back of his head for an anchor. I wanted to be speared. I wanted more than his mouth. I felt empty every day; I needed something to fill me.

But before I could ask, order, beg, Thorsten shoved down his trousers and pulled off me. I coiled my arms around his neck as soon as he stepped back between my legs. Reclining on the altar, I wrapped my ankles around his waist. This was why he had wanted to wet me, for the slick slide as our cocks collided.

“Faster! Please—”

“No,” Thorsten spat in his noble voice, the voice of my master owning me.

I was pinned, locked in position with his arms around my back. Squeezing Thorsten’s neck, I struggled in vain to buck upward and entice him to go faster. “Please. I need it. Let me come, and you can fuck me—”

“I am going to fuck you. But I decide when, how fast, how deep, andifyou get to come at all.”

Fuck. So much for his earlier urgency. We were friends once, grew up together like brothers, but sometimes I hated him for learning what slave and master meant. For becoming the lesser of so many evils instead of something good.

“Hush now,” Thorsten said, a low rumble as antagonizing as the grind of our cocks. “I want you shaking before I breach you. You like it that way, don’t you, Oli? Coming undone, begging to release while I drive you toward madness?”

Yes, I liked that, and I hated that he knew it.

“Tell me, Oli.”

I kept my lips sealed, so Thorsten reached between us to squeeze our cocks. He squeezed them together, but didn’t grind, didn’t move.

“Tell me,thrall,” he spat like a master again.

“Y-yes.” I shuddered. I liked it because being driven to madness meant less time and faculties to consider my fate. “I like it. Take me as you want, however you want, but please,pleaselet me come.”

Slowly, Thorsten shifted so his tip teased my entrance. I didn’t need to be prepared. The constant use of my hole made it compliant on a whim, and Thorsten was wet from our grinding, the saliva he’d left on me having mixed with our prereleases. He dragged his tip along my puckered skin, but only ever barely pushed.

“Please. Please, Thorsten—”

“No,” he said again, tormenting me with that slide of skin. “Soon, but only when I deem it time.”

He grazed his fingers down my jawline to my chin. Then up to my lips. I didn’t need to be told. I opened my mouth and sucked his fingers in with fervor. Once he removed them, making way for his mouth, he kissed me with a claiming plunge of his tongue. I was his to be used, and as much as I resented it, I needed it. What else did I have in this life?

When he pulled his tongue from our tangle, cock tip still rubbing against my hole, I tried to push down and bring him inside me.

“Not yet.” He moved his cock away and reached down with the hand I’d wetted.

“Please—”

“Hush,” he silenced me again.

I could do nothing but spread my legs wider to accommodate and take his fingers as deeply as he’d allow. First was the tease of one, circling my hole. A second traced my rim when the first slipped inside. Then Thorsten’s thumb followed suit when the second joined the first. That was where he kept them, a slow,slowthrust of two fingers, while his thumb rubbed along my rim.

I moaned.

Thorsten held me with one arm, nearly suspended above the altar, enjoying every whimper and whine, while his other hand played with me, knowing I could do nothing,woulddo nothingto stop the measured twists of his fingers that were never quite deep enough to satisfy.

He licked up my throat.

“P-please,” I tried again, rocking against his hand. “Now, right now,please...”

“That needy for me, are you?” Slowing his fingers, Thorsten dragged their tips along the intimate curves inside of me.

I squirmed, bucking helplessly in response, but it wasn’t the right angle, rocked back on the altar as I was. Only Thorsten could speed things along the way I wanted, the way I needed.

“Say it.”

“Y-yes… I need you. I need your cock.Please.”

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