Page 29 of Her World In His Hands

Releasing her wrists, he shifted down her body until he was settled between her thighs. He lifted each of her legs in turn, so they rested over his shoulders.

The sight of him staring at her sex like a starved man caused a rush of wetness to flood her sheath. Her hand snuck between their two bodies and slipped between her sodden folds. With a husky sigh she circled her clit.

Njord scowled. She raised a cheeky eyebrow and grinned as the act elicited a low growl of displeasure. His hand shot out and he grabbed her wrist yanking it from her sex.

“Mine!” he snarled and buried his head between her thighs.

Her eyes dropped back in her head as his tongue rasped over her swollen clit.

“Njord!” she cried.

Fingers slipped deep into her wetness.

Her hips rose from the bed.

He plunged two fingers inside her, stroking her sweet-spot. Sweeping his tongue over her furrow he homed in on her swollen clitoris, worrying it and grazing it gently with his teeth.

“Come for me,kván.”

Hearing him call her wife in such a fiercely possessive tone, coupled with the indescribable pleasure he created, sent her spiralling. With his name on her lips, she convulsed.

Before the final tremors receded, he rose to his knees and tugged her parted thighs towards him, spearing her on his shaft with a satisfied grunt.

She didn’t think he could ring any more pleasure from her but he soon proved her wrong.

Hips snaking and pounding into her triggered a tsunami of orgasm which rolled on and on, until with a shout, he stilled and flooded her womb with his essence. Her bliss soared and her cries carried from the open window mingling with the early evening mist.

Sleepily,Sassa opened her eyes, she must have slept for the window showed darkness outside while a bedside lamp cast yellow halo, giving the room a friendly glow. There was no sign of Njord. Dragging herself up on one elbow she glanced about the room. Too engrossed in Njord to look around at the décor before, she now saw that the walls were painted in a matt, rich cream, the ceiling and wood work, white. A comfortable chair sat across the room, upholstered in a soft tartan of muted earthy tones with a number of scattered stags images woven into the cloth. Matching curtains and duvet completed the soft furnishings. An old armoire built of yellowing aged yew stood on one wall and a matching chest of drawers, on the other. The room had a cosy, homely feel.

A knock at the door made her jump. “Ma, can I come in?”Iona.

“Yes,” she called, a smile lit her face at the sight of her daughter entering the room whilst juggling a large tray which sported a steaming dish of something that smelt delicious.

“Fa thought it would be nice for you to have supper in bed.”

“He did?” She peered into the steaming dish of food. “Oh lovely, Frikadeller!”

“I told Fa that was your favourite dish and he flitted across to Denmark to fetch us some,” Iona explained. “He adores you, Ma.”

“And I adore him too!”

“I’m glad to hear it, although I’d rather hear that youlovedme,” a deep voice replied from the doorway. Njord entered the room, carrying another tray with two more dishes containing the Danish dish of spicy meatballs in a rich sauce.

“I do love you…Um, could you find me a top,m'eudail?” She asked, a blush warmed her cheeks, even though Iona didn’t seem at all embarrassed by her mother’s nakedness; simply winking saucily at her father.

Njord, crossed to rummage in his chest of drawers. Pulling out a white cotton tee, he brought it to her and sat on the side of the bed while Sassa slipped it on.

Iona took the chair and Njord perched beside Sassa.

While they ate Iona explained that Mani had gone to the moon to tell his spirit children all about her before he took her to meet them. Apparently, they are nervous of strangers and very shy. “Uncle Loki says—"

“Uncle?” Njord interrupted brusquely.

“You misjudge him, Fa. Loki is really rather sweet, and don’t forget technically he’s still my step-father. Oh, and also, it washimwho rescued Ma.”

“Sweet?” he spluttered, outraged that anyone could consider the wicked god of mischief, as sweet! “Loki is widely known for his part in the death of Baldur, Odin’s son. He had him killed with a spear made from mistletoe, thrown at Baldur by the blind god, Hod. We gods became tired of Loki’s nasty behaviour and chained him to a rock where a poisonous serpent dripped venom onto him! His shouts of pain caused earthquakes. Now that was a good day!”

“How horribly cruel! Well in this case you can’t argue with the facts, Njord. Loki looked out for me. I think he’s lonely and wants to gain your respect,” Sassa said. “Go on, Iona, what else did he say?”

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