Page 29 of Odin
I remember her fresh tattoo and adjust my hand so it’s solely supporting her ass. If I touched the wound accidentally, she never made a sound of anything that wasn’t pleasure.
She tries to get close to me, far too eagerly, but I don’t stop her. I can barely hold myself back from fucking into her, and it’s better if she impales herself on me.
Every single inch she takes sends pleasure ripping down my spine like a fire gathering wind and growing from a single spark into an inferno. The pleasure saws at me, and every one of Willow’s heavy breaths, her hands clawed into my shoulders, every pant every single sound, only wind me up tighter.
She grunts in frustration after a moment, locking her legs around my hips like I’m going to change my mind about this and leave.
“You need to…” she pants. “You need to do it for me.”
My mind conjures the dirtiest words. Impale her. Split her open. Stretch her wide around me.
She twines her arms around my neck and pulls herself close, snugging our bodies together. She doesn’t brace herself. She goes limp against me. There’s no struggle. Only pure surrender.
I fill her slowly, making sure I hurt her as little as possible. The sounds she makes against my ear aren’t ones of pain. They’re pure pleasure. She tangles her fingers in my hair, her nails biting against the back of my neck and sinking down into my scalp.
I finally seat myself fully inside of her. I let out a long breath, and she does the same, but in the next, she’s already pulling away from me and gliding back, fucking herself along mylengtheagerly. Even if it hurts, she’s willing to take the sweet torture to find pleasure.
She grinds against me, rocking her hips in a gentle roll so that I know she must be hitting her clit with every pass. She’s so tight, so hot, sogood, that it’s a struggle to stay in control. The zipper of my jeans bites into both of us the next time I thrust. She takes me straight to the hilt. She spasms around my cock even though she’s not coming yet. I have to try very hard to keep my focus and my fucking chill, feeling her snug walls clench all around me like that.
“Let go,” she breathes. “Fuck me as hard as you want to. Fuck me until you come.”
The fact that she tells me to fuck her until I come, not until she does, fills me with a roaring tenderness, but there’s also the urge to mark her, claim her, make her mine. I have zero right. I can’t believe that I’m doing this. It’s still unbelievable that she wanted me. That she’s offering her body. She cares about how I feel, and that this is good for me. I want to believe in this impossible dream. In a universe where she keeps her promise and comes back, even though I was serious when I said she should live her life without looking back. She’s too young to waste her time on someone like me. No matter what my best years might be—behind me or ahead of me—they’re far shorter than the ones she’ll have on this earth. We were born in the wrong time, and maybe that doesn’t matter to her right now, but this is all it can ever be.
I want it to be beautiful for her. Transcendent. Something that she can look back on as an experience that she’ll treasure as I will. I cared that it was wrong, both in my mind and the eyes of the world, but what she said washed away the shame. This doesn’t feel depraved. It doesn’t feel illicit or stolenor wrong. It’s just me and her, two people who crashed together even though our lives should never have intertwined, and found a brief, powerful connection.
I drive inside of her while she holds on tight. She urges me forward with a small cry, and softly chanted words. “Yes. Oh my god, please. Yes. More.”
I give her all of me, thrusting hard, pulling out, thrusting again.
“Odin,” she bites out. “I’m going to come.”
I curse out a jumble of words and fuck into her steadily, keeping the same rhythm that is going to take her into her climax. I can tell the second it happens. She goes rigid right before she explodes, her back arching off the blanket, nails biting into my scalp and shoulder as she hangs on. A shudder rolls through her body, ending between her legs. Her pussy tightens around my dick, clenching me like a fist. A rush of slick arousal coats my dick the next time I pull out and thrust inside of her. She’s so hot, and thinking about her come coating my cock sends me tumbling into my own climax.
I drive myself inside of her, coming in waves. I fill her so full that the hot wetness overflows where we’re joined, spilling out of her and seeping into our clothes. I can feel the wet spot on the front of my boxers while my cock kicks with the aftershocks of the pleasure that blacked out my vision and erased every single thought from my mind.
Willow pulls me down to her, kissing me languidly. She’s still wrapped all around my body. It’s hot out and I’m flattening her, but she doesn’t release me. She wants the crush, the hard press of me against her, the reality of us, in this moment.
I wish that I could keep her and she obviously doesn’t want to let go. We’re two people, clinging to each other before our realities take us in different directions. Even if she was staying here in Hart, this couldn’t happen again. Reality would only degrade the fleeting, perfect, beautiful dream we’ve found in this moment.
We have right now.
We have tonight.
We have tomorrow morning.
Somehow, that will have to be enough for a lifetime.
Chapter 10
Willow
Odin thought we’d never see each other again. I wasn’t going to be able to change his mind with mere words. Actions are what promises are made of. He wasn’t trying to be a martyr. He really did want me to live my life to the best of what it could be. We both knew that for me it was in LA. I think he truly believed that I could just dismiss him from my thoughts like he was nothing. Just a blip, a few days, an anomaly.
I knew that I’d never stop thinking about him. I knew that the three days I spent in Hart would have a profound impact on me. I knew that I’d be back in Hart one day, but I didn’t see it happening so soon.
I’d been back in LA for three and a half weeks. I tried to get a spot in school, but I came up with nothing. I threw myself into doing exactly what I said I would. I sat down and spoke with Preston. We talked. In the end, I told him that I forgave him and that I understood we weren’t right for each other. I know that some people might think I was weak for letting him get away with it, but I just wanted to move on with my life and time spent hating him was time I could be doing other things.
I also knew I needed to work on myself, to deal with unresolved trauma over losing my dad so I started therapy. New beginning, new me.
