Page 45 of Her Viking Lord
But as I took him deeper, as my tongue worked along the underside of his shaft, I felt his control beginning to slip. His breathing grew ragged, his fingers tightening in my hair. The change sent a thrill through me—I wanted this, wanted to feel him lose himself in my mouth the way I was losing myself on his saddle.
“Lorna,” he groaned, a warning and a plea.
I hummed my approval around him, taking him as deep as I could manage. His control shattered then, and I felt a surge of fierce joy as his hips began to thrust upward, his hand tightening in my hair to hold me in place. He was fucking my face now, using my mouth with the same dominance he’d shown in every other aspect of our relationship, and I loved it. This was what I needed—not the careful gentleness of the past few days, but the raw power of myHerrataking what belonged to him.
The change in his rhythm made me rock harder against the saddle, and suddenly I felt the knob slip backward slightly, pressing against my little flower, the place Horakovsky had used me so cruelly, my tinyrøvhul, with delicious pressure. My face heated as I realized that the sensation was exactly what I’d been craving. With a sob around myHerra’s thrusting cock, I shifted my hips deliberately, grinding my tender bottom-hole against the little bump in the leather padding.
The mixture of stimulation—thetólpounding into my throat while the saddle’s ridge pressed against my most forbiddenentrance—sent me spiraling upward with shocking speed. I felt his cock swell impossibly larger, and then myHerrawas coming, flooding my mouth with pulse after pulse of his seed. I swallowed frantically, taking everything he gave me, and the act of submission combined with the pressure against my still-sorerøvhulpushed me over the edge.
My climax hit like lightning, and with it came the silver branches.
I shot upward through Yggdrasil’s canopy with such velocity that I felt myself leave my body entirely. The world tree spread before me in crystalline perfection, every branch and twig visible in stunning detail. But this time, instead of merely seeing threads of possibility, I saw probability as well, and indeed near-certainty—the future unfolding with the clarity of memory.
Something called Project Athena materialized first. I saw a massive installation spreading across the Canadian Arctic like a technological cathedral.The hope of humanity,a celestial voice seemed to say. I saw the underground sanctuary, its launch facilities, the space station’s power arrays gleaming beneath the northern lights. The structure was magnificent, a testament to human ingenuity and the determination to preserve civilization against any catastrophe.
Then I saw her—a young woman named Mary O’Toole, and I knew that name though I’d never met her. A girl… a fellow bed thrall andvolva… with flame-red hair and startling green eyes, standing in what looked like a command center. She wore the bearing of someone who had seen the world tree as I had, but with more experience.
Mary was speaking to two men—one I recognized as Sven, Aksel’s brother in the Sons of Odin, and another whose powerfulpresence marked him as someone significant in that other secret society myHerrahad told me about… the Pretorian Guard.Marmareus, I knew somehow, and a jolt of need surged in my pussy as I understood that Mary belonged to both of them—that she was shared between them.
The vision shifted, and I saw Takken and Horakovsky behind bars. Not metaphorical bars—actual prison cells, their faces haggard and defeated. The charges scrolled past my consciousness: corruption, human trafficking, conspiracy, attempted murder. The evidence was overwhelming, much of it gathered from Berkut Station’s servers during the raid.
Mila and Katya… the Sons of Odin and the Pretorian Guard had set them up in charge of what remained of Horakovsky’s criminal empire, as allies.
Finally, the vision showed me myself. I stood in the prime minister’s residence, but everything was different. The oppressive atmosphere was gone, replaced by something lighter, purposeful. I wore a tailored suit, and through the windows I could see the gardens where I would soon address the nation—not as Takken’s wife, but as prime minister in my own right.
The vision crystallized with absolute clarity. I saw myself taking the oath of office, Aksel standing just behind me, his hand resting protectively on my shoulder. The Parliament erupted in applause, and I felt the weight of leadership settling onto me like a mantle—heavy, yes, but right. This was what I was meant to become.
My orgasm crested again as the final images flooded through me, wave after wave of pleasure mixing with the certainty of what I’d seen. The silver branches held me suspended for oneperfect moment before releasing me, and I crashed back into my body with a gasp.
The saddle’s ridge was still pressed against my tenderrøvhul, my mouth still full of myHerra’s softeningtól. I pulled back slowly, swallowing the last of his seed, my entire body trembling with aftershocks. My legs had gone boneless, barely able to support my weight.
“Easy, littlevolva,” Aksel murmured, his strong hands gripping my waist to steady me. He lifted me carefully off the bride saddle, and I whimpered at the loss of pressure against my bottom. “I have you.”
He carried me to the bed as if I weighed nothing, settling me against the pillows before stretching out beside me. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me close to his chest, and I burrowed into his warmth with a contented sigh.
“You went very far this time,” he said quietly, stroking my hair. “I could see it in your eyes—you were somewhere else entirely.”
“I saw everything,” I whispered, still trying to process the flood of images. My voice shook with emotion. “Herra, I saw Project Athena. This massive installation in the Canadian Arctic—it’s beautiful. Like something from a dream. And Mary O’Toole, she’s there with Sven and someone named Marmareus. She’s avolvatoo, isn’t she? I could feel it.”
His hand stilled in my hair for a moment. “Yes. Mary is very gifted. She serves both the Sons of Odin and the Pretorian Guard.”
“I saw Takken and Horakovsky in prison,” I continued, the words tumbling out faster now. “Real prison cells, not just housearrest. They looked broken,Herra. Defeated. And Mila and Katya—they’re free now, running things for us.”
“All of that will come to pass,” Aksel confirmed, his voice warm with approval. “The evidence we gathered from Berkut Station was more than enough to ensure their convictions. The wheels are already in motion.”
I lifted my head to look at him, my heart suddenly hammering. “And I saw myself,Herra. I saw myself as prime minister.”
His eyes locked onto mine, and I saw something shift in his expression—not surprise, but confirmation. “Tell me,” he commanded softly.
“I was taking the oath of office,” I said, the memory of the vision still vivid in my mind. “You were standing behind me, your hand on my shoulder. The Parliament was applauding. It felt… real. More real than anything I’ve ever seen before in the world tree.”
Aksel’s hand cupped my face, his thumb brushing away tears I hadn’t realized were falling. “It is real, littlevolva. That future exists, and we’re going to make it happen.”
“But how?” I whispered. “Takken is still technically prime minister, even if he’s been arrested. The party?—”
“The Sons of Odin and the Pretorian Guard have been working together,” he interrupted, his voice taking on the measured, analytical tone I’d come to recognize. “Marmareus, Sven, and Mary have come up with a plan. They’ve been coordinating with key members of your party, building support, preparing the groundwork.”
I felt my breath catch. “A plan? For me?”
