Page 30 of Wulver's Flame

Page List

Font Size:

Our little mate was ready.

I curled my fingers down the crack of her arse until her soaked flame-red curls were beneath me. The heat radiating off her was fierce.

“P-Please—”

One word, but her pain, need, and desperation wracked through it.

“Tell me what you need and use my name,Úlfa mìn,” I crooned, slipping my fingers parting her silkfold.

She clawed the furs and raised her hips, mewling like a feral animal before she spoke.

“Vargr,” she purred.

My name on her lips. For the first time. And the world shifted.

My fingers stilled.

“AGAIN!” I bellowed as something inside my chest snapped.

“VAR-grrrr,” she growled my name.Wolf.

The spirit of my name. My bloodline.

Now,ourbloodline.

“Vargr, please give me your staff,” she said with a shiver. “Make it stop.”

I slipped two fingers inside her, and her legs shook as a tortured moan left her lips. She rubbed her face back and forth on my scented clothing, panting while her gaping bloom clutched my fingers.

Sköll was pacing, impatient, yet loved everything I was doing to our mate.

I eased my fingers back before plunging them deeper until I felt the thin membrane.

“Your first time will hurt,sæta mín,” I murmured, gently probing her again and again until her slick drenched my fingers.My sweet.

“I will take it, Vargr,” she cried into the furs. “I will take everything you give me.”

Sköll rumbled in my chest with satisfaction.

I removed my fingers, ignoring Liùsaidh’s protest.

“Fenrir, son of Loki, first of our kind. Bless this night. Never before have our bodies joined another, our first, our only. By the law of blood and fate, bear witness to our bond. The wolf and the flame—feral and fire become one,” I vowed, my heart thudding like a war drum beneath my ribs.

No sooner had my invocation finished. I felt Sköll’s peace, like the calm after a turbulent storm.

I leaned over Liùsaidh’s back, until she trembled beneath me. She twisted her head back, and I smoothed her hair away from her sweet face. Confusion flitted through her dazed eyes.

“Elskan mín, this is my blood oath to you. Never shall you walk alone. Your mate will perish to protect you. My flamehearted warrior, I claim you beyond breath, beyond bone. My soul shall guard yours across life and death, through fire and storm. You are mine, from this night-watching until Ragnarok itself,” I vowed, my voice strong, my reverence burning into her pale blue eyes.

And my heart? It was already hers—always had been.

My eyes closed as I claimed her lips.

The last tender moment before my rut took over.

She sighed into my mouth, searching, probing, reciprocating.

Again and again, I tasted her sweetness, clashing together until my balls ached.