Page 40 of Kept By the Kraken

We’ve both been quiet. No words were spoken on the drive home. Or when he carried me inside and prepared a bath, washing me with such reverence that I felt his devotion in every touch.

“Processing, I guess. But this feels good.”

He grunts in agreement as he parts the hair at the top of my head, then he pulls the strands into a braid. He tugs and weaves, the motions soothing, until he’s got my hair secured. He twists a rubber band around the end and brushes a kiss along the back of my neck. When he’s finished, I turn around, crawl into his lap, and wrap my arms around him.

“How are you holding up? Did tonight bring up old memories?” I run my fingers through his beard, scratching along his jaw the way he likes. That rumbly sound in his chest grows louder. It makes my muscles turn to jelly at the same time it sends tingles to my clit.

His arms wrap around my back and he pulls me closer, my center rubbing along the hard ridge of his cock in his sweatpants. “It was rough before I got to you. Touch and go while I had him in the water.” The heat of his palm settles into my skin as he traces my side with his calloused hand. “It’s better when I hold you.”

I hum my agreement, resting my head on his shoulder and taking comfort from his embrace. His hands work their magic as he soothes me with long caresses. Tonight was awful, but I’m proud of how I stood up to Daniel and of how Bjorn and I worked together to compromise during a crisis. I never want something like that to happen again, but it solidifies my resolve that if it does, we can make it through.

We cling to one another for a long time, holding tight until some of the raw edge of the evening has dissipated. When tears well in my eyes, I’m not sure where they come from. It’s a battering of emotions, all of them swirling and thundering together until I’m full of a deep aching.

Bjorn holds my face between his hands, his expression tender. He kisses my forehead, then right under my eye where the tears flow, and finally my mouth. The kiss is slow and soothing, a balm to my soul. It says what I can’t find the words for and yet somehow, he understands. His mouth trails kisses down my exposed neck, over my collarbone, and between my breasts. My fingers dig into his wavy hair, holding him closer.

I want him to override my memories, replace the angry hands of my ex with his loving ones. “Make me forget,” I whisper into his neck.

He inches away, piercing me his gaze. “You don’t need to forget. You need to remember. I’m yours. This is forever.”

His palm clasps my throat, not too tight but enough to awaken his claim. His calloused thumb traces one of his marks and I close my eyes as the touch sends a little zap of possession and pleasure racing up my spine.

“Show me,” I plead.

Bjorn flips us in one smooth movement, landing in the cradle of my hips. His mouth hovers over mine, our breaths mingling, and I reach for him. He teases me with the kiss for a moment, nipping at my bottom lip until his mouth finally claims mine.

My hands roam his strong back, my nails digging into muscle. He moans into my mouth and thrusts his hips, his hard cock heavy against my center. Normally there’s a buildup between us where we touch and explore, but I want none of that. I tug on the band of his sweats. Bjorn pulls back from our kiss enough to help me get them off before returning between my legs.

Dominant and in control, he secures my arms over my head with one of his large palms. The weight of him and the feel of my bound arms helps loosen my muscles. I give in to his hold, reveling in his claim.

His mouth sucks and kisses across my chest. He uses his other hand to take hold of his cock and rub it through my wet pussy until he nudges inside my entrance. He gives a shallow thrust, the head of his cock stretching me. I try to lift my hips, but he uses his weight to still me.

The burn and the feel of his possession is what I need, an anchor tethering us together. “I can take it. I want to.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, sweet Violet,” Bjorn murmurs, his voice deep and on edge.

“You won’t, but I want to feel it. Please,” I beg.

He answers me with a thrust of his hips, sinking deeper inside. The stretch makes my vision white-out. The feel of him pushes away all other thought.

“Like this? You need to feel me stretch you? Show you where you belong?”

“Yes,” I moan. “It’s perfect.”

Bjorn pulls back, his thick cock dragging along my walls. The feelers add to the pleasure, sending little vibrations through my channel. On the next thrust, he stuffs me fully. Tears return to my eyes, but it isn’t painful. It’s exactly right. Bjorn traces one with his thumb, then licks the salty tear before pressing kisses against my cheek, my eyes, my nose.

He fucks me slowly, letting me adjust to him. The world beyond this bed ceases to exist. It’s only our bodies as we affirm for one another that we made it through the night, that we’re each here and safe. Pleasure and passion pass back and forth between us. He’s everywhere. His mouth, his cock, his hands, and the burning ember inside my chest are all-consuming.

When I’m desperate to be able to touch him and my core is pulled tight, he flips us and lets me loose. I straddle his lap as he sits up, one of his palms tucking around the back of my neck and pulling my mouth to him. The other clings to my hip, steadying me as I grind down on his cock until I can feel the bulge of his knot. With a lift of his hips, his knot locks inside me. Finally. Blissfully. I’m his again.

“Sweet mate,” he coos, trailing kisses along my neck. “I love you and no one will come between us.”

“Promise?” I plead.

“With my life,” he answers.

That glowing ember inside my chest expands. The blaze burns through all the residual fears and aches until only he remains.

Pleasure surges as I cling to him, riding his knot and letting his big body cocoon me. My orgasm washes over me, starting from deep in my core until my limbs tingle and my body shakes. Tears flow freely but they’re cleansing, bathing me in the promise of the two of us.

---