Page 37 of Last Thrall of Asgard

“Fuck!”

Thor really meant it. When he feasted, he devoured, and he was eating my ass with the appetite of a beast.

I melted into the table, almost literally with how the remaining honey slid from my skin. While Thor tongued me, practically bending me in half to accommodate us on the table, he dipped a finger into the honey jar and fed it to me.

Whatever energy the belt used to make me feel powerful and resilient, it also made me ravenous. I gobbled the honey down, sucking it from Thor’s fingers, and welcomed it when he fed memore. I’d thought I was bursting before, but nothing compared to the fullness of Thor’s tongue. Not yet anyway. The rest of me felt empty and hungry for more of him. I didn’t even care what a mess he was making of me.

My thighs quaked, even with my legs resting over Thor’s shoulders. I felt like I could come any moment, and from this angle, I would spill onto my own lips.

As I dropped my head back to take a breath and try staving off my release, I felt another’s eyes on me.

Loki?

But when I turned to look, there was only the faint sliver of open eyes from one of the dwarves. Whether he was aware of what he witnessed was questionable, because he rolled over and went back to sleep.

Why was I disappointed?

Thor swirled his tongue along my rim before retreating and licked a long stripe up my underside. I moaned and humped the air for more, trying to forget my distraction. True to the lord of feasting, he was ready for the next course, and after he wiped the glisten of me from his lips and beard, I finally felt the press of his tip to my entrance.

“This is almost a reenactment of how Ipoundedthe Midgard Serpent.” Thor speared inside me with a slam of his cock. I couldn’t cry out or moan or even breathe for how the depth of him thrilled me.

I didn’t think he meant he’d pounded the serpent with his cock, but with the gods, one never knew. There was no pain though. No ache. No need for any magical device to stretch me first. I had the strength of the gods running through my veins with this belt, and the true pounding began to prove it.

I was pounded, pounded,poundedupon the table as Thor lifted me with each thrust. I wanted to reach for my cock and stroke it under his gaze, but more of me wanted him to touch me.

“Thor—”

“That wasn’t the first time I’d pounded the serpent.”

Fucking Hel. Even now, thrusting within me and wrapping his meaty fingers around my prick like I’d wanted, the problem with Thor fucking me instead of eating my ass was his lips were free again. Why did he insist on… on…

Reliving the past.

“We are going to drink enough ale to fill Hymir's Cauldron when I’m through with you,” Thor rambled, and he felt so good within me, good enough that it would have been easy to stop listening, to ignore his constant need to tell stories. To remember his glory days. Unable to move forward from a time long past with Ragnarök having come and gone.

Damn it. I’d forgotten why I was here.

“You know how I acquired that brewing pot—”

“Would you shut up already?”

“…what?” Thor slammed into me hard enough to pin me, folded in half. “What did you say?!”

No fear, Oli. This is why you’re here. No fear.“I said: Shut. Up.”

As a snarl formed on Thor’s face, I dropped my legs from his shoulders, gripped the braids of his beard, and yanked. Strong enough from the belt he’d gifted me to give even the mightiest of gods pause, I lifted myself to his level.

“Be here, with me, not in some memory of a past fuck or festivities long over. I know your stories. I don’t need to hearstories, no matter how much you might think you need to tell them to feel like you still matter.”

Thor’s eyes blazed—no, crackled, as if with lightning about to strike me from their irises.

Be brave, Oli.

Be enough.

You are enough.

The wag of a dog’s tail in my periphery almost drew my gaze from Thor’s, but I could not be distracted by potential tricksters.

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