Ægir’s Bride Ch. 11

He sighed, "Hands above your head, sweetheart." He bent and kissed her. Slow and sweet but full of all the heat that had raged between them that night. Then she felt his knife moving lower still. Across her shoulder and down her chest. He leaned back and both their eyes were glued to the steel grey against her pale skin. He did then as he had teased her, playing connect the dots with several of the light brown freckles that peppered her chest.

"Do you mean it?" the sound was so low as if torn from his soul that she looked into his eyes.

She shook her head in confusion, "Mean what, Mikael?"

"Mark you? Make you mine? I can you know. Make the wound so deep that it will scar. That it will never fade. Did you want that, Kirsty? To truly be mine...forever?"

Her breath froze in her lungs at the pain...and the need that she saw in those eyes. She knew that the answer to that question meant far more to this man than even he could admit. And she knew too the answer. Not just because he needed it, but because she wanted it. Wanted him. Just as much as she wanted Bjorn.

"Yes, Sir." She frowned, that was not right. This was more than submission, more than games, this was love and relationships and promises. Building a relationship...a future for them...all of them. "Yes, Mikael, I want that. I want you."

He sighed low and long. That sexy smile spread across his face, the one that she did not see nearly often enough. "Hands above your head then. Do not move."

She nodded and steeled herself. No matter the pain, she would not disappoint him. It was ironic...she hated needles. She always had. But something inside had from that first moment on the boat craved this with him...wanted the feel of his blade on her skin. Even more so than now.

As she did on those rare occasions when she had blood draw, she watched as he moved the blade over her left breast. His eyes caught and held hers for a moment, "One the count of three, elskling. One." She nodded her head and braced herself. "Two," she inhaled and held her breath as his eyes returned once more to the knife and the blade. Hers followed suit.

"Three," the pain was sharp and searing as he pressed the knife far deeper than he had last time. This time she knew it was not merely the skin that he broke, but the muscle and tissue beneath. But still she did not move. Instead she stared in fascination as her dark red blood ran down her skin.

It was over far faster than she would have thought possible. Then his dark blonde head bent and as he had before his tongue lapped at her blood. As intimate as it always was when he or his brothers buried their heads between her legs and licked her there, it was nothing compared to this. She had read more than a couple vampire romances as well as her penchant for the BDSM and poly ones, but the reality of this man she loved drinking her blood was even hotter than she had gotten then.

She moaned at the feel of his hot tongue against her skin but when his mouth actually covered the fresh wound and sucked the blood from it, she could almost feel her body tense. Her arms dropped from above her head then, her hands encircled his head and held her lover, her husband to her breast as he drank the very life force from her body.

His mouth never left her breast, but as if he could feel how fucking tightly she was wound then, he stopped sucking just long enough to whisper, "My sweet Freya." Her mind was beyond the complexities of how this whole orgasm conditioning shit worked. How he could trigger her when it was Bjorn who had trained her? She did not fucking care all she felt was the power of it as her whole body trembled and shook as she reached for the stars.

His head was once more sucking the blood from his wound as his fingers moved between her open thighs, slipped inside her and augmented her orgasm that was already on the edge of too fucking intense. Within seconds, her body answered his demands as she felt liquid gush around his fingers, wetting the sheet beneath them. Not that she gave a fuck.

Especially when the pleasure took on an edge of pain like a period cramp. It was strange...the orgasm still felt good, maybe even better. But the cramping was as intense as anything she had ever experienced...more so. Until as it always did the pain mixed with the pleasure and her body gave into all that the experience was. As it went on and on until she cried out and collapsed once more against the bed.

Still he lapped softly as remnants of blood that appeared periodically. She looked down and watched as his tongue traced the mark that he had made on her tit. Much like a child would lick at a melting ice cream cone, savouring its sweetness. She smiled at the letter 'M' that appeared pink and red against her white skin.

"M for Mikael," she chuckled as she ran her fingers through his hair.

He reluctantly lifted his head and bent to kiss her. If she had been intrigued of the taste of her pussy on their lips after they had eaten her, she could find no words to describe the coopery sweetness of her blood on his lips and tongue. This kiss was as intimate and unforgettable as the man.

When he at last broke it, his lips releasing hers from captivity, he smiled, but it was a weak one this time, "Yes, or mitt, min, even your English mine. Whichever you prefer." He sighed heavily, "But now I must dress it, see that it is clean and will heal properly. Then I must go. Join my brothers. Just know that while this one will not fade as Bjorn's will, my word to you is just as lasting as my mark on your body. We will be home...soon. You have my promise on that too."

She laughed, "What you going to help Bjorn tie Sven up and throw him in with the fish too?"

He laughed, "Damn, I am liking my baby brother more and more. Good thing, I did not strangle him when he kept pestering me, no?"