A Nordic King(72)

But a few inches are enough to make my jaw clench, and I’m trying so hard to keep myself in control. She’s hot and slippery, even here, and tight as a fucking fist. I want to slam myself inside of her, bury myself balls deep. It takes all of me to try and keep on breathing, my fingers digging into her sides, wanting to be as gentle and quiet with her as I possibly can, considering the wall behind her, how tight her legs are around me.

On the rug in her bedroom was one thing, but here, in this hidden corner of the hallway, this is something else. I hope I have what it takes to bide my time and enjoy every second, but since I’m already struggling to keep it together, I doubt I’ll last long. And, I suppose, for the sake of our privacy, I should be quick.

But she’s coming first.

She’s going to come first and she’s going to come hard.

I want her to bite back her screams.

“Fuck, you feel like heaven,” I tell her, my voice guttural as I push in deeper, watching as my dick disappears into her, her resistance deliciously tight. “You’re drenching me, my goddess.”

I pull out in a slow slide and she shudders beneath me before I push back into her, staying cautious, my palm leaning flat against the wall.

“Fuck me,” she moans, her eyes fluttering as she stares up at me. “Harder, Aksel.”

I look down to where the thickest part of my cock is still showing. “Are you sure?” I ask her, grinding the words out as I clench my jaw. My body is burning, my muscles tightly coiled as I try to stay still. “I don’t want to hurt you, and I don’t want to break the wall down either. You’re tighter than a fist, and my cock can barely fit as it is.”

“Please,” she cries out softly. Her brow is furrowed with wild impatience, her mouth wet and gaping.

Has she been thinking of me like this while I’ve been gone?

Has she wanted me as badly as I’ve wanted her?

I think yes.

“Your Majesty,” I murmur, reminding her.

She wraps her legs around me tighter and I slip myself deeper inside her, almost to the hilt. She stretches around me with a loud gasp, her cunt so snug and wet as I roll my hips against her. I’m lightheaded, breathless, and the flames inside me build, licking me until I’m lost in this decadent haze. The walls of the palace are gone and it’s just her. It’s me. Nothing can touch us.

“Harder. Fucking harder.”

A growl escapes my lips and I slam myself into her until she’s hugging every throbbing inch. She’s biting her lip to keep from yelping, and I hear nothing but my blood rushing through my head as I bury myself deep inside. My hips thrust, hammering in this driving rhythm as her nails are digging into the shoulders of my dress shirt and her quiet cries are getting more and more desperate, turning into throaty little whimpers.

I reach down and stroke the slickness of her clit, but I’m pumping so hard into her that it’s nearly impossible.

I lean forward, sweat dripping off my brow and onto her chest. “I want you to come.”

But she’s coming before I get to the end of my sentence. She’s moaning, then biting back her cries, trying to stay quiet. Her face is contorted with the effort of keeping it all inside, all while exploding outward.

I don’t hold back. With a low guttural groan, I come, the pleasure ripping through me, turning me inside out. I swear harshly, quiet as possible, as I pour myself into her, going into a mindless, primal state of being.

In this moment, I’m without thought or care—I’m just an animal let loose in the palace.

I come back down to earth slowly. I pull out carefully, loving how my cum drips down her legs like white rain, proof I’ve left my mark, then hold her, gently placing her on the floor.

She looks up at me through the dark strands of damp hair, her face red and beaded with sweat, her eyes heavy-lidded and completely sated.

“Where am I and what just happened?” she jokes, hand to her forehead.

I grin at her, biting my lip, and tuck my half-hard cock back into my pants, zipping them up.

“We have a saying here in Denmark,” I tell her. “Den der kommer f?rst til m?lle, f?r

f?rst malet.”

“What does that mean?”

I look around to make sure no one is about before I start walking down the hallway. “First come, first served,” I say over my shoulder.





Chapter 17





Aurora





When I was a teenager, the only thing I ever dreamed about was getting out of Windorah. It was leaving the shack and my meager belongings and my growling stomach behind and finding a better place in the world. I’d never looked for anything beyond what was possible. I knew that it would be a hard road and that I’d start with nothing. But anything was better than this.

Then, a new boy came to town.

Or should I say, a man.

Five years older than me.

When you’re sixteen, it’s a pretty big deal.

He bought the pub in town and no one ever questioned where he got his money from—they were just happy that the pub was open again.

He brought with him his own pain and his own ambitions and his own ways of dealing with things. He opened my eyes to a new world, one that we could escape to.

One I would end up escaping from.

Dan ruined my life. I’ve spent so many years drowning in that hate for him, for what he did to me. Who he made me become.