Page 24 of Berserkr
"I am."
I kissed her blue hair. It was brown near the scalp. I'd have to ask her if that was normal or if she was ill... but not now. Later. Right now, I didn't want to think of anything bad. I just wanted to focus on the moment.
She smelled so good. I inhaled deeply, relishing her scent.
"Are you sniffing me?" she asked with a chuckle.
"Yes." After another long inhale, I added, "Do Peritan males not do that?"
"No. But human... Peritan guys are very different in a lot of ways."
"Tell me."
"Well, for starters, they don't have the same stamina you just showed. They usually need to recover after they climax. And they don't sniff their partners. They also don't bite them or carry them around-"
"Sounds very boring," I remarked.
Laurel laughed again. I could bathe in that sound. "You're right. You're much more interesting."
"How am I more interesting?"
"You're blue. You're strong. You're super sexy - that's what you want to hear, right?"
I moved one hand downwards until it came to rest on her mound. Her skin was hot and sticky. A sign of how well I'd performed during our mating. I'd managed to satisfy her.
"Yes," I whispered and rolled my finger over the sensitive nub above her entrance.
She sucked in a sharp breath in response. I loved how she reacted to my touch. The claimings earlier had been rough, frantic, desperate. Now that the fýst had cleared from my mind and body, I could take the time to get to know her body in a more leisurely manner. I'd explore every part of her, find out what else would make her gasp like that, what would elicit the loudest moans. I'd learn to play her like an instrument until she'd writhe beneath my touch and forget all about those other Peritan males that she'd compared me to.
"How are you feeling?" she muttered sleepily.
"Like the happiest male in the universe. How are you feeling, my mate?"
"Mate. I will have to get used to that word."
"I can call yousæta, if you prefer. Or female. Or whatever word in your language you like the most."
"What doessæta mean? And why doesn't the implant translate it?"
"There are some words too complex to translate literally," I explained. "Words that only make sense if you know the culture in which they evolved. Originally,sæta meant a female waiting for her mate at home while he'd gone raiding. But that's just the literal meaning.Sæta is the longing the two lovers feel for each other.Sæta is the joy at finally seeing each other again.Sæta is the love they bear for each other, no matter how far apart they are."
"That's beautiful," Laurel whispered. "I didn't know you were such a romantic."
"Never tell any of the other Vikingar that," I warned. "I am only romantic when I'm with you. Outside of this room, I'm a fearsome berserkr who punched his way through a thick metal door to get to his mate."
"You did that?"
I would have shown her my bloody hands, except that someone must have fixed me at some point during my fýst delirium. I didn't remember much of what had happened. I'd have to talk to Njal, find out if there was anyone who might challenge me to a fight in future. If I'd badly injured a Vikingr, or dishonoured him somehow, he'd want retribution, no matter whether I'd been sane or not.
I pulled Laurel even tighter against my body. I loved how her curves moulded perfectly against me. We were the perfect fit. The Gods had chosen well.
"What happens now?" my mate muttered. She sounded half-asleep.
"Now, you and I will sleep. Then we will bathe. Then-"
"No, I don't mean that. I mean our future. Are we officially mates now? Is there a ceremony? Do we need to register? What do I tell my parents? Where are we going to live? What-"
I playfully flicked her pleasure bud to cease her questions. "One day at a time. But to answer your first question, yes, we are mates. You may now make me a shirt."
