Page 56 of Valkyrie Confused

“Thanks.” Scarlett heads for the door but stops and faces us. “Hey, do Valkyries get laid? You know, once they’re with Odin?”

Odd question. “Not unless they want to lose their immortality and their wings. He doesn’t share well.”

“So he fucks them?” She grimaces. “Isn’t he an old guy?”

Pan mock-coughs in his fist. “Totally fucks them.” Coughs again. Jackass.

I don’t want to be thinking about Odin right now. “He’s old, yeah—white hair and wrinkles and all—and I don’t think he fucks them. They’re his shield-maidens. Emphasis onmaidens.”

“Yeah, that ship has sailed for me. Like,a lot.” She licks her lips. “Anyway. I’ll see you this afternoon. At five?”

This is one of those moments—the ones when you decide your own fate. Act on your feelings.

“Or you can stay,” I tell her. “Make that ship sail a little longer.”

Destiny will catch up.

Scarlett looks from me to Pan. Bites her bottom lip. She wants to stay. To be with us. I see it in her eyes, as much as I smell her arousal. It must be driving Pan wild, but he stands stock still, watching her.

“One condition,” she says.

Anything. “Name it.”

“You do the air-whoosh shower thingy. I have sweat and dirt in places I don’t want to think about.”

Pan grins. “Done.” He snaps his fingers, and all three of us are naked and squeaky clean.

Scarlett squeals. She folds one arm over her breasts and covers the apex of her thighs with her palm. “Seriously?”

“I’m sorry. Got lost in the moment.” Pan gives her an innocent, contrite look, and she’s in a clean, fluffy bathrobe. “Better?”

She frees her curls from where they’re stuck inside the lapels of the robe and nods.

Pan huffs. “Though I don’t see the point, since—”

“Oh, shut up.” She steps up to him and rises on her tiptoes to press her lips to his.

It’s funny to see him flustered for once, stiff and with his hands held out to the sides, like he’s afraid she’ll dissolve if he touches her.

It doesn’t last long.

His arms come up to wrap around her. He tangles the fingers of one hand in her hair and tugs, stretching her neck back so he can dominate the kiss. Devour her.

When she melts against him, he cups her ass with his other hand and kneads. Rocks his hips against her. He breaks the kiss to drag his nose up her throat and nibble on the hollow beneath her ear. “Now may I undress you?”

“No.”

The throaty word makes me deflate. Emotionally. My dick is hard as nails.

“I’d like to see you two kiss some more, first,” she adds.

Pan turns my way with a smirk. “Think we can oblige?”

I am done with banter. I want action. I claim his lips, my hands roaming his body. His skin is smooth, where mine is rough. It’s not genetics; he uses his shapeshifting powers to manscape. And I appreciate the effort when I lick a path down his front to kneel in front of him and draw my tongue up his shaft.

He hisses, and his cock bobs. I kiss the tip. Flick my tongue across it. When I open my mouth, to take him in, he stops me with a hand in my hair. “I want to be eating her out while you suck me off.”

Scarlett’s mewling sounds like approval.

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