A Nordic King(76)

With a slow exhale, he grips my hip as he pushes himself inside me from the side. He’s bare and thick and long as he sinks in, this slow, decadent thrust.

“So good,” he murmurs, his voice throaty with need. “So beautiful.”

I take in a deep breath and try to focus on every single thing that’s happening, from head to toe, just letting it all sink in.

Like the times we’ve had sex before, I’m hit with the sad, urgent feeling that it might not happen again.

Because it feels right. It feels good, then it feels too much, then I don’t even know what I feel because all I feel is Aksel.

He’s taken over my whole world.

He’s my ruler.

I’m his subject.

I groan, stretching around his thick cock, loving how hard I can clench him. He loves it too. His breath is getting shorter, more labored, which makes me grip him even harder. I love these little sounds he makes; how undone he becomes. He goes from a man in a sharp suit to a wolf in the wild.

“Want me to go faster?’ he asks, groaning as he speaks.

“No,” I say, licking my lips. I look at him. “This is good.”

It’s better than good but other words are escaping me right now.

He nods and watches me intently as he pushes in further. His lips part as he sucks in his breath and his forehead creases in lust and awe, like he can’t believe this is happening, can’t believe how good it feels.

“Oh god,” he moans, his grip tightening on my hips, sliding up to my waist, to my breasts where he pinches my nipples. “Aurora. Fuck me. You’re so fucking perfect. You’re a dream.”

I might feel perfect right now while his cock is sliding deep within me, but I’m not a dream. I’m one hundred per cent real. I’m here. I’m living this, I’m feeling this, I’m loving this.

This is happening.

He’s watching me, watching himself, watching us, where his cock sinks into me, his shaft wet with my desire. He’s entranced by the sight, the slow push in, the slow pull out.

Look at what we do to each other.

Each rock of my hips, each thrust of his, pushes him in deeper, makes us connect like magnets. The way his abs clench as he pushes inside, the tiny beads of sweat that gather over his tanned skin, the dampness on his brow. I reach around and pull his ass toward me, wanting more, and he drives in so deep that the air leaves my lungs.

God, yes.

My head goes back again and I’m surrendering to him. He’s in me, in so deep, and I don’t ever want him to leave. This feels beyond right.

This might be the calm before the storm. This might be the storm, too. He can be both those things for me, the peace and the chaos. He can be my everything if he wants to. Even if he doesn’t.

I don’t want this to ever stop.

Something goes off inside me, a spiral in my core that’s slowly increasing, spreading, heating up. It’s going to take over me, it’s going to pull me under, and I’ve never wanted to come so badly in my life.

“Almost,” I whisper, my voice choked with my sudden hunger for him. “God, Aksel, I’m almost…”

He responds instantly.

With a throaty growl he starts pumping faster, one hand at my back to hold me in place, the other in my hair, making a fist. He’s sliding in deeper than ever, hitting me where my body is dying for release.

He brings my head forward and kisses me, quick and hot, tasting like sweat. My mouth is ravenous against his, messy, the need inside me building and building.

Please, please, please.

I want this forever.

This has always been about more than just sex.

I just can’t deny it anymore.

And then we find our rhythm, our bodies coming together in a dance. I wouldn’t say it’s effortless because he’s pounding and pounding me, working me in fevered intensity, because it is work to fuck like this. And yet there’s a sense of ease with each other, with our bodies, that I can’t describe.

Like my body was his from the start.

The bed slams back against the wall, the sheets are pulled loose, my breasts are jostling, and I hope we’re not waking the palace, but fuck it, I don’t care. Not now. Not when I’m this close.

“I’m coming,” I start to cry out but he’s quick and places the pillow over my face, muffling my ragged voice.

I bite into it, feeling the feathers between my teeth.

Then I’m twisted and crushed as the orgasm washes over me like a rogue wave, tearing me into a million directions of starlight and bliss. An explosion of floating feathers in my chest.

Sir, yes, sir.

“Fuck,” Aksel grunts as the release claims him. His rough, frantic noises, the slap of his sweat-soaked skin against mine, the creak of the bed, all fills my ears.

The pillow slips away from my face.

He lets out a low, barely-restrained moan, shoulders shaking as he comes.

I’ll never get tired of this sight.

This king brought to his knees.

The pumping slows. His grip loosens.

He collapses against the pillow, his hair damp and sticking to his brow. His eyes take me in, his breath heavy and hard.

“Give me five minutes,” he says, gasping. “And then we’ll do that again.”





Chapter 18