“Mine,” he murmured. “Mine.”
And then he thrust hard, bottoming out, filling the deepest part of me. My limbs froze, my back arching as pleasure burned up my spine. Our lovemaking felt like the Change, a giant hand shaping and stretching me, making me anew. Only it was not magic. It was Ægir.
I survived his brutal thrusts, pleasure sizzling and singing in each vein. I did not know when my climax began or ended.
He pulled out and knelt beside the bed, dropping his face between my legs.
Dazed, I craned my neck, but all I could see was the top of his head. “What are you—”
His mouth covered my cunny and I cried out. His tongue lapped at my secret places, long, smooth strokes that drove my pleasure higher.
But then he pressed fingers against my arsehole. The area between my bottom cheeks was slick from my wet cunt.
“No,” I warned.
His teeth glinted when he smiled, two long incisors glinting like fangs. His thick finger probed my bottom.
“Mine,” he said. I writhed, trying to get away. He jerked me back, his fingers biting into my thigh. His shoulder leaned against my leg, pinning and pressing me into the bed.
“No,” I fought in vain. My climax was building again despite the finger invading my arse. Or perhaps because of it.
His tongue sought my folds again and soon I screamed my pleasure to the ceiling. Ægir nipped at my inner thighs, rubbing his stubbled face on the sensitive skin. A second finger pushed into my arse. His thumb dipped into my cunny and he rubbed the thin membrane that separated his thumb and fingers. My climax went on and on. Still holding me pinched between thumb and forefinger, he sucked on my clit and I spiraled higher. My heels drummed his broad shoulders.
Then he spread my juices over my stretched bottom hole.
“No,” I mumbled, too overcome to push him away. He set his cock at my anus and growled, making me shudder. I could only lie there, limp from many climaxes, as he breached my tiny back hole. Somehow the tight rings stretched around him. One inch. Another.
“Muireann,” he murmured. “Muireann.”
I sighed and let him in. No one had claimed me there before, and no other ever would. My body, my heart, my whole self, belonged to no one but him.
For a heartbeat he rested, seated balls deep inside me. His fingers found my slippery clit and I groaned. I did not want to climax again. Especially not with him inside me like this, claiming me in the basest possible way. He would possess me utterly.
But I could hold nothing of myself back from him. Like a true wolf, he was a patient hunter, touching my folds, teasing the tender flesh until I rocked unwillingly against him. Milking his cock despite myself. When my climax finally came it was gentle but long, rolling waves that rippled my belly. Ægir watched in fascination, groaning as I grew impossibly tight around him. If I could, I’d push him out. My hands did push at his chest until he reared over me and pinned my wrists to the bed. Then he started to stroke. Sweat beaded on my forehead and his. He was holding back.
“Take me,” I challenged. “Make me yours.”
His groan rumbled through me. He snapped his hips and impaled me, filling me completely. The harsh thrusts continued until I feared I’d break in two. My body held together another heartbeat and then another orgasm shattered it. My eyes rolled back into my head, my tongue babbling an unknown language.
Ægir released my arms and grasped my hips, slamming into me hard enough to make me bounce. His lips drew back and he was a feral creature once more, teeth bared in a snarl.
With several rough pumps, he filled my back channel with his seed. I was completely filled with his issue. Sloppy with it. I supposed I should be glad I was not covered in it.
Perhaps next time.
Ægir rose and went to the bucket where he washed himself. He returned and washed me. His cock still jutted from his body, hard and ready.
But he draped himself over me, kissing my forehead, my lips, the soft place between my breasts. Then he lay on his side, his huge body dwarfing mine, and pulled me close, my back to his chest.
“Do you mind staying here?” I asked drowsily. I could sleep and would soon. But first I wanted to enjoy this moment, lying in my man’s arms.
“Do you?”
“There’s nothing to eat but fish and sheep.” I yawned. “Your men—will they get on with their lives without you.”
“No.” Ægir teased a lock of my hair, fanning it out on my shoulder. “Told them to stay. Guard.”
My eyes popped open. “I hadn’t thought of that. But it’d be best if Hawk and the rest stayed for a while. Do you think they’ll mind?”
“No.”
“We should visit Nanny someday. Not for a while. I imagine she’ll be busy fussing over a new band of warriors.”
“Father... angry?”
I smiled and shook my head. “My father wouldn’t have chosen you as a bridegroom.” An image of the monster on the roof filled my mind and I shivered. I’d saved the Sea Wolf as much as he’d saved my people. “But I expect his opinion will change. You did save us from Dòmhnall’s men. And now if the Uí Néill come to avenge their fallen son, well, your men can enjoy another fight.” The island wouldn’t be so easy to conquer now. There’d be no threat to my father while the Sea Wolf’s warriors guarded the island.
I settled deeper into Ægir’s arms, perfectly content. “I don’t know the moment I knew I didn’t want to live without you. Probably when you claimed me for the first time. I didn’t realize it at the time. Not until now. But since then, it’s been you, Ægir, and no other.”
His hand splayed over my belly. “Good.”
“My mother told me stories of you. She readied this cottage. I guess she knew you’d need it one day. And I would be the raven to guide you home.”
“No,” Ægir grunted. I rolled to my back and he splayed his hand between my breasts. His eyes burned with a hint of gold. “You.”
“Me?” I wrinkled my brow. “What do you mean?”
“You. Home.”
A golden warmth bloomed inside my heart and spread through my limbs. “And you also, my love. You are my home.”