Page 32 of Savage King

He was mastering her body, commanding it, raising her from the mortal realm to play in the halls of the gods.

Just as he said he would.

Odin twisted his hips, hitting a new place inside her that made her cry out, her fingernails digging into his back.

He hissed. “Give it to me, baby, give it all to me. I can take it, just like you can. You take it so good, baby.” He moved faster, pounding into her, the sounds of slapping flesh echoing through the bedroom, turning her on all the more.

“You feel so good inside of me.” Was that her voice? She sounded high, breathy, lost in sensation.

Because she was.

Odin dropped his head back, the cords in his throat pulling taut, his Adam’s apple bobbing. The wide muscles in his chest jumped and the muscles in his abs flexed and released in time with his increasing movements.

“Gods, Skathi, you feel like heaven—fuck! Fuuuuck!”

Her orgasm tore out of her, catching her by surprise. Her pussy clenched tight, hard, holding him in a vice made of pure ecstasy.

“Fuck! I can feel you milking me. Come all over my cock, Goddess,” he commanded, and she complied, her body writhing beneath his as he sped up, his movements uncoordinated as he slammed into her harder, faster, his breaths coming in gasps. Sweat dripped from his face onto her chest, and she reveled in it.

She was making this man fall apart…and she loved it.

“Uhn! Aaaa! Fuck! Skathi!” With one last heaving thrust, Odin came, emptying himself inside her still pulsing cunt with long, thick ropes of hot come.

Odin collapsed atop her and she held him to her chest, their racing hearts running in time with one another.

Their bodies still linked.

Their souls bound.

“Never…” he whispered hoarsely. “Never has it felt like this.” Odin pressed a soft kiss against her forehead, then her cheek, then her lips…then her neck, right where her pulse was sprinting. “I’m yours.”

Her breath caught at his declaration…because she knew that she was just as much his. And she’d hadn’t seen it coming.

She was in love with Stellan Vikander.

Gods…I’m in serious trouble.

In the aftermath of the best sex of her life and a personal revelation that she refused to focus on, Skathi couldn’t move a muscle. Replete, satiated, sore…and absolutely, positively in awe Odin’s body. Hewn from rock, sheathed in hot flesh, and placed among mortals to bring them to their knees in worship.

But he’d spent the night worshipping her. His skill in the bedroom outmatched Aaron’s by lightyears, and she knew she was ruined for all other men—which had been his intent.

Well…mission accomplished.And she got to bask in the spoils of completion.

Gods, it was a heady feeling, to be the focus of one man’s utter devotion, especially a man like Odin who could have any woman he wanted, and probably had. But he was with her, in her bed, his arms wrapped around her body, holding her like a vice against his hard, sweaty body. His soft kisses along the back of her neck and shoulders were tender, adoring.

“Who are you, Skathi Odinsdottir?” His deep, sex sodden voice murmured against the back of her head. “I want to know every single thing there is to know about you. Good, bad, not so good, not so bad. Hopes, dreams, favorite foods, movies, music, and even what you had for breakfast this morning. All of it. There isn’t a thing about you that I don’t want to know. So…give it to me.”

Surprised, she twisted her head to look at him. His eyes were clear, open, and there was a rabid sincerity there that made her tummy flip over. He meant it. He really wanted to know.

But why?

“Wow…that is a lot, Odin. I don’t even know where to start,” she remarked, overwhelmed by his words and by the sudden need to tell him all he wanted to know. She wanted him to know the good and the bad, to see her for who she really was, not what she could give him. Not what she could offer, but what she was made of—her family, her history, her ups and downs, what life had woven into the fabric of her being.

“There isn’t much to tell about me. I’m twenty-nine. I was born in Odense to Andrej and Tanja Odinsdottir. My father is a soldier turned architect after he was wounded during routine exercises on the Baltic, and my mother was an army wife and homemaker.”

“So you followed after your father?” Skathi couldn’t mistake the tightness in his voice at the mention of her father.

“And my father’s father, and his father’s father. There is a long line of Odinsdottirs in Danish military service, and I just wanted to be part of it. I am an only child, though my parents had tried for more after I was born. They had no luck. I was young, but I knew my father wanted a son, that he was disappointed that he couldn’t pass his name and military legacy down to the next generation of Odinsdottir men.”

---