Page 40 of Mastered By the Viking King

But Njal was past coherent thought, withdrawing, then plunging back until his tip butted up against the back of her throat. He was so nearly there, his release battling to be free, his balls aching with need.

“Swallow!” he snarled through gritted teeth. “Swallow my pleasure… ah… ah…”

He gave into the urge, ecstasy rushing up his cock and into the back of her throat. He held her tight and shoved deeper. He cried out when she swallowed, and tugged on the tip of his cock at the perfect moment.

She did it again, drawing even more seed from him. Somewhere in his mind he knew he was holding her in a powerfully tight grip, forcing himself down her throat. But passion ruled, and he thrust his hips forward yet again.

Finally, satisfaction rolled through his pelvis. He pulled out, cupping her cheeks as he studied her face.

She was breathing fast, her lips puffy, her skin flushed.

She is my goddess.

“My love,” he gasped, his brow hot.

She licked her lips. “My king.”

Her chest was slick with sweat.

For the love of Thor, I’ll never get enough of her.

“I pleased you?” she asked, slipping her hands to his cock, holding it gently.

“Aye, you did.”

She smiled, caressing his softening shaft. “I only want to please you.”

He scooped his hands beneath her armpits and hauled her to standing.

She released his cock, flattening her palms upon his chest.

“I don’t believe my heart will ever beat for another,” he said, lowering his head so his nose almost touched hers.

Her eyes widened. “Oh, Njal, I feel the same, already.”

“We were fated to rule Halsgrof together. That knowledge is as clear as a full moon on a cloudless night.”

“I hope you are right.” She slid her hands around his neck and pressed her breasts to his chest, squeezing close.

“I am right. I am King Njal of Halsgrof.” He caught her mouth in a tender kiss, stroking his tongue along hers.

A surge of protectiveness welled within him. This small, delicate woman in his arms had shown him such trust, had proven herself to be brave and wise. Like the doves she was named after, she sought peace and harmony—and handled herself with grace, even confidence.

He’d spend his life making sure she was safe and protected, happy and satisfied. It was a vow he made to himself and to the gods. He would not fail Queen Tove—that was not something he could live with in this life, or the next.

* * *

A delicious sense of satisfaction warmed her limbs—even between her thighs—as Tove washed and dressed. Her jaw ached a little, and she could still taste the king’s pleasure.

“Father! Father!”

The curtain pulled open suddenly.

“Father!”

Two small boys rushed forward, Wanda close behind.

“Ah, my sons!” King Njal stooped and held out his arms as two small boys ran over the fur-lined floor toward him.

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