Ægir’s Bride Ch. 06

And he brought it to his lips and tasted her pain. This man had never been afraid to taste her pain. When Andres hid in the bottle and Stig cursed and raged at Fate and every other god there was, he had sat there. Just there and held her while she cried. She had forgotten that. Forgotten just how strong and true this man was.

"Forseti," she whispered. Because he was right, she wanted that truth and peace between them once more. And if she had to face his justice to get there, then so be it.

***

Kirsty had no idea what time it was. Damn, she hated that about this room. No windows. No sun light in the morning. Sure, it added to the whole dungeon ambiance. But damn it, she missed the sun waking her in the morning.

She had insisted that Bjorn leave on one of the scone lights by the door when he got up in the middle of the night to get her more water. And chocolate. She giggled against his warm skin. The idea of someone, who looked like him, feeding her chocolate in bed? It was the stuff of adverts. She would just have to be careful not to overdo it.

Of course, maybe she could take up a new exercise program...sex-ercise. And when she tried to move just a bit even, she remembered just how sore muscles could get from that regime. Not that she regretted it. Just that if Mikael's fingers and tongue had been work out enough, then Bjorn's cock had been 'feel the burn' time.

She shifted in his arms and looked up just in time to see him frown in his sleep. Then he drew her closer again. The man complained of her pouting? He should look in the mirror at that frown sometime. But it did nothing to detract from his masculine beauty. It really was not fair. She must look a mess. Red hair tangled and all over the place and Thor had to look...well, like Thor. Even in his sleep.

She could not stop her hand that rested over his heart from drawing little patterns on his breast bone. Then she realized what she was doing and laughed. Her initials...KD...she was writing them over his heart with her finger. But then again this man made her feel like a teenager...like first love. Of course, it might be damned good that she was not a virgin at least not when it came to rough shower sex.

She bit her lip as her eyes were drawn to something lower than his heart. Though it seemed to be pulsing in perfect time to it. She slid her hand slowly down his abs...six pack be damned this man was more like a twelve one.

She blushed once more and tried to push that thought from her mind. When was he going to wake up, really wake up and realize that he could do so much better than her? He could have any woman he wanted, probably even models and actresses. And none of them would give a damn about him being a simple fisherman. Not when they looked at him...and definitely not if they liked rough sex and floggers.

No matter what he said...and when he looked at her that way, she could almost believe he meant. But the truth was that one day, this man was going to look at the cellulite on her thighs and ass, at the fact that not even after six months in the gym was her tummy half as flat as it should be. One day, he was going to really see all that...and what then?

Maybe that was what had kept her from saying those words last night, more than how quick things had moved with them. Maybe it was the fact that she still could not accept that a man, who looked like this, could honestly want someone who looked like her. She felt the tears burning in her eyes and she fought like hell to hold them back. She swallowed hard, trying to choke them back.

Then she felt those fingers caress her cheeks. It was only then that she realized she had lost the battle at some point. She tried her hardest to smile as she looked up at him and whispered, "Good morning."

He shook his head against the pillow as he brought his finger to his lips and sucked her tear from it. Tasted her tears as he had others parts of her last night. "No, it is not. Not when I wake to this. Tell me, sweetheart." He drew her tighter into his arms. His fingers laced through that tangled mop of ginger hair.

She tried shaking her head, "It is nothing," she lied as her hand moved lower beneath the quilt. His larger one covered it just a couple of centimeters above his hard cock.

"No, you will not distract me with sex. I asked you a question and I want an answer," his voice was husky, low and demanding. How could she possibly explain? How could someone like him ever understand what it was like?

She might have gone to girls' schools until university, but not even that could shelter her from the truth. From the beginning, the taunts had been their 'carrot top,' 'ginger,' 'chubby' and those were the nice ones. Her mother might want to idealize feminism as women supporting one another, but the truth was...they were more vicious, more brutally honest than any man ever would be.

If little boys beat the crap out of one another on the rugby field, asserting their dominance that way. Then little girls did it with their words. And despite the old saying about sticks and stones, words could hurt you...sometimes in more lasting ways than broken bones. Bones mended and when they did they were stronger than before. Not so with the wounds on your heart, soul and mind.

It did not help either to remember the wedding photos that she had seen on social media. The man she had given six years of her life to standing next to the bride that was as petite and beautiful as she was tall, fat and ugly. There...she said it... "Ugly and fat."

***

He should have known. It always came down to that. To the fact that the woman he loved...could not love herself.

He rolled on top of her, entered her slowly until he pressed as deeply inside of her as he dared considering how rough he had been last night. Her eyes even though they still swam with tears glazed over with need immediately. Her body moved beneath his, flowering open like one of his mother's morning glories at the first rays of dawn. And every bit as wet as the dew upon those flowers too. "Does that feel like I find you...fat and ugly?" He found it hard to even force those words from his throat...when they came to her.

She shook her head, "That is just sex. Biology. A morning boner. Men are not all that picky...they will fuck anything." She was not even looking at him. Her eyes were closed. She was fighting her own need for him, he knew that.

"Really, my beautiful wife?" He bent his head until his mouth rested just against her ear as he whispered, "Not this one. Look. At. Me. Now." It was the first time he had used that voice, that tone, was that truly demanding with her.

Her eyes opened slowly as he leaned back on his elbow. He used his other hand to wipe away more of the tears that continued to fall. "You want to hear a little secret, my beautiful wife?" She flinched. She drew back and scrunched up that pretty face. She had barely done that last night when he took her so too roughly. He swore then he would use those words as often as he needed to until she stopped doing that. Until she believed them too.

"I said look at me. Look me in the eyes and listen to what the fuck I have to say, Kirsty," he demanded. This time he did not turn her head towards him. He simply waited. Several long heart beats until those blue eyes met his. Until he knew he had her undivided attention. "You were my first. On the boat that first night."

He laughed at the way her mouth fell open. Her head shook from side to side on the pillow. "Oh yes, my beautiful wife, I waited for you. Waited for something more than just a casual fuck."

"No, that's not possible," she whispered as her brows scrunched tightly in a frown.

He shrugged, "Don't get me wrong. I was no monk, my beautiful wife. I have had more than a couple subs suck my cock." He bent low, "Something we still have not gotten around to yet, but we will. The idea of watching you gag on it," he breathed deeply and shook his head. "But back to the point and yes, I have tasted more than one pussy too. Just never one as sweet as yours. And hell, one of the first things I discovered on the Internet was porn."

He brushed another tear from the corner of her eye, "Never again tell me that this is just sex. We both know you are right, I could have had 'just sex' any fucking time I wanted. I had enough offers. And yeah, some of those women were everything that pretty little head of yours is so fucking worried about. But I didn't. Even with their legs spread wide and them begging, I waited. I waited for you. For something that was more than...just sex."

His free hand moved over her body, slowly. He caressed it as he allowed what he had told her to sink into that sometimes thick head of hers. He hand cupped her breast. His thumb brushed back and forth over her nipple until she was panting, "So the next time that little voice whispers those nasty things in your head remember this I fucking choose you. Do you understand, sweetheart? I choose you."

He sighed as he watched her shake her head and more tears gathered in those blue depths, "No, you still don't. But damn it, woman, one day you will. One day, someday, some fucking how, I will make you see yourself the way I see you."

She breathed deeply. He watched as she fought back the tears, the denial, and the pain, all of it. "Yes, Master," she whispered feebly.

He shook his head, "No Master here this morning. Just a man who is very much in love with his wife. A man, who feels like a fucking failure because he cannot make her see how fucking beautiful she is in his eyes."

He bent and kissed her lips. Put a stop to whatever other denial and drivel she was about to say. "So if he cannot make her listen to what he says, maybe he can show her how he feels."

He nibbled at her bottom lip until her mouth opened. Though he wanted to charge the gates, conquer and demand her surrender, he did not. He gently coaxed. He tasted and savoured. He drank from her depths until she was moaning into his mouth. "Please, Bjorn, please."

"Please, what, my beautiful wife?" His tongue traced her lower lip as he moved slowly inside of her for the first time since he entered her.

Her breathing became shallow, so damned fast that he was afraid she would pass out, "Please," she moaned. "Please fuck me."

He leaned back once more, "No, I will not fuck you. That plea is as useless as all of theirs were." He moved his hips in a long slow circle, watched her whole body tense and arch against his. Her eyes closed as her head buried itself deeper into the soft pillow.

He bent and captured the hard nipple that he had been torturing for minutes. He wanted to bite her. Wanted, maybe needed, her to wear even more of his marks. But instead he softly lapped at it until a low whimper went his soul. "No, I won't fuck you, my beautiful wife. But I do intend on making love to you."

He reluctantly allowed the nipple to slip from his lips as he bent to her ear once more, "No permission, no holding back, no triggers. I just want you to give your body to me...as I give mine to you. Understood?"

"Yes, Mas..." she stopped and turned her head towards him. She smiled as she wrapped her arms about his neck.

***

"Yes, Bjorn," she answered. As this time it was she who captured his lips. She who drew him down to taste of his sweetness.

Her mind still rebelled at his little surprise. How a man that looked like this was still... She choked on the word. A virgin. At twenty-eight? It boggled her mind. But she knew that he was not lying. Her heart accepted what he said, even if it did not understand either.

And she had to admit...it was sexy. She did feel special. And more than a bit naughty as she lifted her hips to meet his slow thrust, she winced a bit as she flexed muscles that were incredibly sore. But the quick intake of his breath was more than worth a bit of pain. Besides she was still discovering just how much she liked the stuff.

Oh she felt more than a bit naughty, the ideas of games they could play...she liked the idea of defiling the little innocent just a bit. But the way he slowed and moved his hips inside of her rather quickly abused her of the idea of him being all that innocent. And the way that he stared into her eyes as he lowered his head to taste her nipple once more had her whimpering and mewing.

She laced her fingers through his hair and held him to her breasts as he suckled. As she closed her eyes, his words of last night flashed like lightening through her mind. Oh yes, her heart very much wanted this man's child. More so now than ever.

But first she had other ideas. "No Master? No domination? No submission? No fucking?" she asked. "No rules?"

He nodded his head against her breast and answered without even releasing her nipple, "No rules. Just a man loving his wife."

She smiled and it was only the element of surprise that allowed her to win the tussle as she rolled them so that it was she on top. She sat astride him, his cock still firmly buried in her wet folds. But her nipple had managed to slip from his lips as she arched back.

"Or a wife loving her husband," she said as she began to move slowly up and down his hard cock.

His breath was labored. He pulsed and grew inside her tight pussy. She was still sore, intensely so but this position helped with that too. Gave her more control of both depth and speed. Even his hands gripping her hips so tightly could not force her fully down upon him...not until she was ready anyway.

Those green eyes captured her gaze. They seemed even green somehow as he growled, "Does she?"

Her own mind was anything but clear as she felt him flex inside of her, go just a tad deeper. All of her best intentions to slowly seduce him flew out the window as she felt her body greet his. Liquid seeped from her cunt, coated his cock and drew him even deeper until she moaned and slipped fully down on his hard cock.

His hands on her hips halted her movements, held her perfectly still with his cock buried to the hilt inside of her as he looked up at her once more, "Do you? Do you love me, Kirsty?"

Her throat tightened. She was not sure she was ready for this. It was not admitting it to him that bothered her. It was admitting it to herself. All those voices in her head kept whispering lies...too soon...too handsome...different worlds...this craziness of sharing her. There was so many fucking reasons not to.

But the most important reason...that look in his eyes...was what won in the end, "Yes, yes, I love you, Bjorn."

He smiled up at her and rolled them quickly so that he once more loomed larger than life over her, so that he was all she could see...or feel. "About fucking time, you admitted it, my beautiful wife," he said as he wrapped one of her legs about his waist and captured her mouth in a soul searing kiss.

And then he proceeded to do exactly what he had promised her...show her with his body how much he really, truly did love and worship her. By the time he finally plunged deep inside of her and trembled in her arms, she was almost half convinced that her Thor really was hers...as improbable as that might seem. At least she knew...she wanted to believe it. Believe him. She wanted it to be true as much as her body wanted his...as much as she did honestly want this man's baby.

When he collapsed against her neck, she wrapped her arms about him tightly. Even when he tried to roll away a bit, she would not let him. She did not need to breathe half as much as she needed to hold onto impossible dreams just then. And they were sweet dreams as her arms tightened about him and she drifted off to sleep crushed beneath him. She did not even mind his gentle snores against her ear. Hell, at least, the man was not completely perfect, she giggled as she joined him in the land of dreams.

And the gods and goddesses in Asgard looked upon the mere mortals with envy.