And you thought that other WARNING was strong. DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU ARE OFFENDED BY BDSM, MENAGE OR GOOD DIRTY SEX!!!
And for my Ægir’s fans out there…
“Damn it, both of you, stop playing around. I want you. Screw that I need you. Both,” Kirsty pleaded looking back and forth between her husbands.
Once more Mikael and Bjorn blanketed her, surrounding her in their strong arms, wandering hands and hot kisses as they passed her back and forth between them. She was moaning and rubbing against them as her need grew exponentially with each heartbeat. “Please,” she whimpered when they let her up for air.
Bjorn smiled that little boy with a new toy grin as he rubbed his hard cock against her thigh, “Pleasure, my princess?”
Mikael answered with, “Or pain, my sweet slut?” His hand coming down upon her bare ass with a loud smack that sent both racing at the speed of light along nerve endings to her brain that was just wired for both.
Like she could decide? That choice was like asking her to choose among her three girls…impossible to make.
Her whimper must have been the only answer they needed because when she turned to tell Mikael to go to Helvetia, his eyes were dancing like a bead of mercury on the floor after you had dropped an old-fashioned thermometer. “We know…both. But, brat, on our terms and in our time.”
Their depths darkened and she watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down his throat. She heard the emotion as Mikael whispered, “You are not the only one that needs, lilla gumman. And what we need right now is not our strong shieldmaiden. There are plenty of battles for her ahead. At our side and not against us.”
Bjorn gently turned her head until she was lost in those green meadows, running through those expressive eyes carefree like a little girl in spring, “What we need, sweetheart, is your trust. Your submission.”
His voice too cracked, “I know we let that slide so much in that place. And I was wrong. I’m sorry. This is more than games or role play like it is to some others. This is who we are. Doms.”
Mikael kissed the side of her face as he drew her back against him, “And you, elskling, are the perfect little sub.”
“Perfect for us, our One,” Bjorn added as he leaned in to nibble at her other ear.
Kirsty could not find words. Even if she could, she could not have forced them past her lips as tears, happy ones, ran down her cheeks. She cupped theirs heads in her hands and held them both against her for a long moment.
She kissed first Bjorn…the one who had chosen her. The one who had never it seemed had any doubts. He had believed in her. Known that she was what they needed. Had faith in her when she had none in herself. He was the one who had first won her trust when he placed her tablet in her hands, knowing that she could destroy them all.
“I love you,” she whispered softly against his warm lips. She drew back to see those green eyes glistening with unshed tears.
But she was not done yet. She turned her head to Mikael. The man before her bore only a fleeting resemblance to the one that she had chosen that first night in hopes of swaying him into helping her to escape. Oh, he had become her biggest ally. But not in escape.
They might credit her with the transformation in this man, with bringing him back to the fold. But she knew the truth…no woman can change a man. He must want to change…for her perhaps. Certainly, she understood the desire to grow, to change, to be more…to become the woman they needed. But in the end, it always came down to changing because it was what you wanted.
And he had…so completely that it virtually stopped her heart. Bitterness had turned to happiness. Betrayal to trust. Anger and resentment to leadership. And insecurity to brotherhood.
As Petrine had taught her…love them all the same and differently. It was a lesson she was just beginning to fully grasp with her daughters. She knew it was wrong to have favorites and she did not, but she knew too that the bond she shared with this man was different than his brothers. “Jeg elsker deg.”
And though their circle was not yet complete, a thousand miles and an ocean stood between them. Though she knew that he could not read her thoughts, nonetheless she completed the triumvirate with a silent, ‘Æ ælske dæ.’
She used the element of surprise to wiggle and push out from between their hard bodies. She was glad that Mikael had finished the job of undressing her as she fell naked to her knees at their feet. She was certain that her pregnancy made the motion far less fluid and graceful than she would have liked. Sven certainly would have trained his subs better. But she would not have it any other way.
She dropped her head towards her chest as she spread her knees as far apart as she possible could. Her pregnancy precluded her bending forward on the floor and even folding her arms behind her back drew uncomfortably upon muscles and ligaments that were already stretching to accommodate her expanding waistline.
In the end she settled for placing her hands palms up on her knees as a sign of her submission. She was breathless not just from the exertion, but more so from the desire and anticipation coursing through her whole body from toes to the roots of her hair. “Yes, Master. Yes, Sir. Yours to do with as you wish.”
She was glad that her head was down because she could not stifle the satisfied grin at the quick intake of breath she heard from them both.
Oh yes, this lifestyle was most definitely misunderstood. Doms were not tyrants with some deep psychotic need for power over another human being. And subs most definitely were not powerless victims. In some ways, this partnership was the ultimate form of equality. Both needing something and in turn giving back. Facultative symbiosis as scientists would call this relationship that was not absolutely necessary but gave each a greater chance of survival. Or happiness in this case.
It was her turn to benefit with a quick intake of breath as Mikael’s hands wove through her hair, tugging firmly until she stared up into those warm silvery depths, “As it should be, brat.” They twinkled with mirth as he unbuttoned his jeans and released his hard cock.
Kirsty sighed as she leaned in to kiss the head. Her tongue swirled like a kitten lapping at cream and she was just as satisfied. But Bjorn was not to be denied either, releasing his cock from the confines of too tight jeans. She turned her head and smiled up at him before swallowing half of it.
For several long minutes she took turns contentedly sucking first one then the other. She stifled a girlish giggle at the thought of how hot a porn it would make. Except of course that this intimacy was about love.
She would have been more than content to finish them both off this way. Some odd desire to have them both come over her tits and face. But they were not.
Mikael held out his hand and helped her clumsily rise to her feet. She blushed but it was not necessary as he bent and kissed her. “Beautiful,” he whispered causing her blush to deepen.
She did not have the opportunity to protest though. Bjorn quickly distracted her with pain as he pinched her nipples firmly between his fingers, tugging and pulling as if sucking. She was completely powerless to stifle the pleading moans that rumbled from deep in her chest.
She bit her lower lip until she was afraid it would bleed. She knew that in this mood her pleas and most definitely any demands would only be met with further resistance from her husbands, delaying her ultimate pleasure…and theirs. No, this too was submission. Perhaps the ultimate. Allowing them to set the pace.
Even if it was torturously slow. While she did manage to quash those pleas and demands, she could not hold back the whimper of need as her tongue warred with Mikael’s. Her chest jutted out, seeking with those unspoken pleas Bjorn’s touch.
A hand landed firmly on my bottom as Bjorn’s teeth sank into her ear lobe, “Greedy little cunt.”
Her eyes flew open in shocked surprise. Those words so unlike this husband that she just had to confirm she was not so lost in the feel of them that her addled brain was playing tricks upon her. Mikael broke their kiss with a guttural chuckle. “Tut, tut, lilla gumman.”
“Yes, I suppose if she cannot be a good girl…” Bjorn began.
“Then we must do this the hard way,” Mikael finished as he reached for something at the foot of the bed.
Kirsty did not even see what he held in his hands, but she felt it. The thick, roughness of the rope as Bjorn gathered her hands together in front of her. Her throat tightened at the memory of that long ago afternoon…this was so like the way Sven had first captured her. It was her chest that tightened then as she fought back tears. Once again a silent pleading rose to Asgard for her other husband…her first.
But they did not give her time to contemplate these maudlin musings. Bjorn pressed her back towards the soft, enveloping comfort of the thick duvet and pillows. Mikael raised her hands above her head, securing the rope over the hook on the wall above the bed. Oh, yes, she remembered that one well.
The two of them worked together to ensure that she was both comfortable and well secured. Then she felt something else cold clasping around her ankles. Her eyes widened in shock as she realized that somehow her husbands had switched places. Bjorn was now leaning over her with that grin she loved so much and Mikael was…
“Oh my sweet goddess,” she whispered as she watched him clamp the final cuff on the spreader bar into place around her ankle.
“You do not have permission to come,” Bjorn’s green eyes twinkled with mirth as Mikael’s darker head disappeared between her almost painfully spread legs. The only thing missing was…
But before she could even complete that thought she felt the cool prick of the blade. Against the underside of her breast?
Bjorn’s grin widened as he lifted his blond head to stare down towards the foot of the bed at his older brother, “You are right. Knife play does have its…” He paused for a long moment, turning back to her, “Its attractions.”
Mikael chuckled. Against her clitoris. Her whole body tightened. She was on the edge already. How could she not be after so long without them? But the feel of the knife pressing into her skin, raising tiny pink lines as it circled round and round her full breast, that smile and the top of Mikael’s head buried between her thighs as he once more edged her to the point of insanity told her that this night was just beginning.
What was a girl to do? The only thing she could…submit. Just lie back and enjoy the ride.
“I am not going,” she heard the raspy crack in his voice even before she opened the hospital door, but not even that prepared her for what she saw when she did. Even though Mikael had tried to warn her, she was not prepared for what she saw among the sterile white sheets of that hospital bed.
In the space of a few months, Sven had aged years. The tiny lines that had bracketed his eyes and mouth in that first photograph that had drawn her attention on that website had deepened into wrinkles. Especially around his mouth. And those lips that she had tasted so many times were drawn tight into a frown…a skawl was more like it as he argued with his mother. Petrine too was finally beginning to show her age as she barely managed to hold the tears in check.
If not for Bjorn’s strong arm about her shoulder, Kirsty might have turned and ran from this nightmare. But when she looked up into those comforting green eyes, she found the strength and resolve to face whatever came.
“Together as a real family,” he whispered as if reading her mind. His hand on her shoulder tightened as he bent and kissed her nose. Then his other hand tapped her bottom and a single word bound them together, “Shieldmaiden.”
She inhaled deeply and nodded with a forced smile as she felt Petrine’s comforting arms wrap about her, “Kirsty.”
The woman held her tightly for a long moment as if she would never again let her go. Then her girls decided it was dance class time. Her mother-in-law took a step back, her eyes wide with shock and joy as she placed her hand over the mound, “So strong.”
She plastered that fake smile into place as she met his gaze over Petrine’s shoulder, “Was there ever any doubt they would be? The blood of their ancestors demand nothing less.” Kirsty bent and kissed the older woman’s cheek before brushing her towards Bjorn.
And facing him. Their eyes locked and she stiffened her spine. This time she would not be fooled. He would not intimidate her with that icy reserve. This time she knew the truth. She heard those words whisper through her mind and drew their strength, ‘Æ ælske dæ.’
“Where aren’t you going, Sven?” she demanded in the firm tone that she had always reserved for one of her ‘children’ when a meltdown was imminent.
The silence stretched out for a long while as their eyes did battle. Kirsty watched as small lump in his throat moved reflexively up and down. It was his tell she realized too late. He was the first to look away, but his eyes did not move far. Merely dropped to her tummy that seemed to be expounding exponentially every day. Her hand caressed their babies as she held her ground.
She heard the tap-tap of steps as Bjorn and Petrine came to stand beside her. It was Petrine who answered her question, “He is refusing to go to surgery. The doctors need to set the bones in his thighs and pelvis. Perhaps put in a pin or two. As well as have another look with the angioplasty,” she explained.
“And why exactly are you being stubborn?” Kirsty demanded.
Sven looked down at his hand as his grip on the sheet tightened. He watched the IV canule move on the back of it. What did he say? What could he say? ‘I just couldn’t. Not without seeing you one more time.’
As he had lain on that hard, cold ground drifting in and out of consciousness and pain, he had promised himself that if he ever got the chance…if he lived…he would make things right with her. As much as he could anyway.
But that admission was just a bit too much. For a man that had spent a lifetime hiding from his emotions. Hell, denying he had them. That kind of honesty was just too raw…showed too much weakness. Opened him up to rejection. Even if he did completely deserve it.
His throat tightened even more to the point that he found it difficult to breath. Not as laborious as those first breaths he forced himself to take to stay alive. Another hand, a smaller, feminine one appeared in his field of vision alongside his. It caressed his and his heart raced.
He still could not bring himself to look up into her face. To face the hatred and censure that he was sure he would see in her green eyes. Then her fingers entwined through his. He felt a gentle squeeze as she lifted it and moved it towards her stomach.
He fought back tears as she placed their hands over the warm firm swell. But he could have never imagined the sense of pure wonder and utter pride as he felt the gentle thump and solid glide of something living just beneath her skin. He could not help but lift his face towards hers then.
“These girls are not growing up without a father,” her words hit him as hard as that fall from the roof had. It knocked the wind from him just as surely.
How had she known? His deepest fear. The thing that had kept him alive through those long hours. He did not want any possible child of his to grow up as he had…always wondering, never quite knowing where he fit, who he was.
“So you will have that surgery,” her voice was incredibly cold and demanding. He had heard that same tone more than once in the clubs…from female Dommes.
She bent over until she was just inches from his face, “What’s more you will live. Do you hear me? Don’t you fucking think about dying on us.”
He could not force words passed that lump in his throat so he only nodded as he watched those lips draw closer to him. He found it even harder to breath when they finally met his. The kiss was soft. Tender. And left him completely hard.
When her lips finally left his they did not go far, trailing soft feather ones across his cheek to his ear, “Æ ælske dæ.” He shook his head. He must be dreaming. He must have heard wrong as he felt her teeth bite into his ear lobe. He twitched a bit in shock.
Her gaze was unreadable as she straightened up but her hand kept hold of his over their babies. But there was steel in her voice when she spoke, “We have unfinished business, husband.”
He nodded as nurses and orderlies appeared with the gurney over his mother and brother’s shoulders. He chuckled as he found the strength to squeeze her fingers, “Yes. Yes, we do, wife.”
And not even the gates of Valhalla or Helheim, more likely considering his past deeds, would keep him from her. From them.