Page 58 of Elf Shot

"Y-Yes." Layla gripped his forearms to steady herself.

Arne cupped her heavy breasts, fingers teasing her nipples and making her gasp as pleasure pain danced through her. One hand turned her face. His pupils were blown out, his expression worshipful.

"Kiss me, Layla."

She did, her hands slipping behind her head to touch his silky hair. He rocked his hips, his dick shifting in her, so she moaned straight into him. Arne's tongue licked and explored her, his kiss bruising in its intensity. He pulled back and kissed her shoulders, the base of her neck.

"Now, show me how well you can fuck," he demanded, leaning back in the chair.

Layla gripped his legs to steady herself and began to roll her hips, pushing herself back and riding his perfect dick. Any nerves she had remaining were obliterated as her body took over, demanding more of him. She needed him hard and deep inside of her.

She could feel the bond between them singing with every slap and pant. Sex had never been this good, this right. Arne's hands gripped her hips, dragging her back against him in a maddening rhythm.

"Touch us, Layla," he said raggedly. He widened his legs, spreading her. "Touch that delicious little clit of yours." Layla's hand dropped to her wet pussy, stroking them both as his dick thrust in and out of her. Arne murmured something in elvish, so she added some pressure.

"Fuck," he groaned. He leaned forward so he could see over her shoulder. "Look at how fucking sexy you are, Layla. Look how well you take me, how we fit together."

Layla looked, saw her swaying breasts, the curves of her stomach, her swollen pussy riding him. It was the most erotic thing she had ever seen. Her pussy clenched around him.

"Oh gods, I'm going to come, Arne."

"Did I say you could?" he growled.

Layla wanted to cry, the pressure was too much for her to take. Arne moved her hand out of the way and replaced it with his own. The heat of his palm seeped right through her, making her cry out.

"Please, please, let me come."

"Fuck, you even beg so sweetly. Call me your mate, and you can come," Arne snarled in her ear, his teeth catching on her lobe. "I want to hear you say the words, Layla, and we'll go together."

Layla's nails had scratched up his legs trying to hang on. She felt the magic between them, the bond that was calling to her louder every day. There was a flicker of feral rebellion in her, so she picked up her pace, riding him hard enough that stars danced in her vision. Arne growled, his own self-control getting ragged as his dick swelled even bigger inside of her.

"My beautiful mate, let me come on your cock," she pleaded.

"Oh, fuck, Layla." Arne gripped her pussy tight, his dick driving up into her, and she was gone. Layla exploded with light, her orgasm tearing her apart.

Arne was shaking, his release painting her insides with heat and making her clench around him, holding onto him while he clung to her.

Layla collapsed back against his sweaty chest, unable to form a word let alone a sentence. Arne brushed a damp lock of hair back from her face and kissed her cheek tenderly.

"My precious, precious, Layla," he murmured against her skin. "I'm going to make you so happy that you're never going to want to leave me."

Layla turned her head so she could see the god power in his eyes. He couldn't hide the possessiveness in his gaze. It should have freaked her out, but Layla had never felt so wanted, so cherished.

"I'm going to hold you to that, Steelsinger." She kissed him softly until his eyes changed back to their normal amber.

"Still worried about our chemistry?" he asked with a teasing smile.

Layla laughed. "I'm currently more worried about not being able to walk to the shower on my own."

"I'll help. I want to take care of you," Arne said, both of them moaning when he slipped free from her. With his hands on her hips, he guided her to a black tiled bathroom and turned on the shower.

Layla was floating in post orgasm bliss as Arne soaped up a soft cloth and ran it over her skin. He was as perfect naked as all of her wet dreams had imagined. His long lean muscles were covered in a fine dusting of dark hair. He had elvish runes tattooed on his back in a swirling pattern.

"I love this," she said, licking water off his inked skin. "I was worried that the elves would look down their noses at my tattoos."

"Why? They are beautiful," Arne replied, tracing his fingers over them. "The elves have a deep tattoo tradition. Who do you think taught it to the Vikings and the Nordic tribes? All of Tor's tattoos are elvish done. If you want, I can introduce you to one of the ink shamans in Alfheimstod."

"Ink shamans," Layla gasped over the title. "I might never leave."

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