Page 92 of A Light So Blinding
At some point she lost track of how long they’d been going, only that his stamina was shockingly high. And somehow, she wasn’t tired of it. It seemed like he knew how to build that peak higher and higher. Every time she swore she was about to come, the pleasure only grew. More and more until she was almost afraid to know what it would be like.
Until he snapped. His pace became blistering, brutal, every slap of his thighs against hers suddenly made her see stars and then...
Then.
Finally, she came with a cry that echoed in the room. She grabbed onto the dusty sheets, holding on with all she had so she wouldn’t scratch lines down his back even as he bellowed out his own pleasure. She could feel him. Twitching and pulsing inside of her.
The two of them spiraled down together, breathing hard, suddenly realizing that they were lying on a dusty bed, surrounded by the ghosts of his past. She expected him to tense up again.
Instead, he just rolled to the side, threw an arm over his eyes, and laughed. It was a bit ridiculous that he was laughing after what they’d done, but then she couldn’t help herself either. Astrid joined him, finding joy in the madness that had overcome the two of them.
The ache between her legs was still shocking, but what had they done? They were like two teenagers, desperately seeking some kind of release before one’s parents got home. They had explored each other’s bodies. He’d brought her nearly to ruin with those talented fingers and that impressive, massive beast of a cock between his legs.
He hooked an arm around her, dragging her onto his chest, where she lay half draped over him. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked, running his claws through her hair.
“No, of course not.”
But Bjorn knew her very well. His other hand slipped between her thighs, gently stroking the mess that was slowly leaking out of her. He noticed how she held her breath as he slid his fingers ever so carefully between her folds. “Ah, you’re sore. We’ll take care of that.”
“What are you going to do to help that?” she said with a chuckle, only to add in a shriek as he sat up with her in his arms.
Then he was hopping off the bed, picking her up like she weighed nothing and striding out into the light. She threw a hand over her eyes at the sudden brightness.
“Bjorn, what in the world are you doing?”
“Providing you with what you deserve, troll wife. After such pleasure, you deserve far more than just this.” He pushed another door open and brought her into a surprisingly clean bathroom.
Where all the other rooms were dust-covered, at least this one didn’t show quite as much damage. Most of it was stone and very utilitarian. She could see there was a section where one would relieve oneself, a sink, and a mirror. Clearly, it was a home made for a man who lived alone. But in the center of the room was a stunning tub carved out of the stone itself. It sank into the back wall, where there appeared to be a metal bar sticking out of it.
“Here,” Bjorn said, seating her on the side and reaching for the bar. With a twist of his hand, water started coming out of a spigot. Warm water. Steam twirled up into the air, filling the tub surprisingly fast.
With a quick motion, he grabbed her and sat down in the water with her back pressed against his chest. “Now,” he murmured, relaxing into the water with her. “We relax, bright one. Let the water heal what I broke.”
“You broke absolutely nothing, Bjorn,” she whispered as she stroked his arm around her waist. “In fact, I think you might have healed me more than you know.”
Thirty-Five
Bjorn
Bjorn woke with her draped across his chest the next morning, and he could not believe his luck. She was here with him. Still. They hadn’t talked about whether or not that meant she was staying for good, but even the gift of her memory would keep him going for ages to come.
Astrid was light incarnate, and she glowed when he touched her. Just as he had hoped she would. He would never forget the way she’d come alive in his arms and how much he had wanted to devour her whole. And then he had.
She’d let him touch her. Him. A man who had blood on his hands and who drifted in nightmares every evening. He knew what he had done. He knew that there were so many ghosts haunting his steps, telling him that he wasn’t good enough for any of what he had been gifted. And yet... She still allowed him to touch her. She still graced the halls of this haunted home, and he wanted to do more.
Bjorn was not sure which god had looked down upon him kindly and thought he deserved this, but he still wasn’t sure thatgod had thought it through. He didn’t deserve this, and someday soon, he was certain it would all be ripped away.
So he was going to enjoy every single moment that he could.
He didn’t sleep while she did, instead taking in the beauty of her eyelashes that dusted her cheeks. She slept so soundly with his arms around her, and he knew she didn’t always sleep like this. He had seen her sleeping in the forest. She’d twitched and moved often, startled by any sound that came upon them. He’d even seen a squirrel wake her so forcefully that she’d gasped as she’d sat up.
But lying on him? She slept like she didn’t have a care in the world. Astrid had no idea what a gift she was to him, especially after all the darkness that had found him for such a long time.
Eventually, though, he knew it was time to get up. The wisps were back to that horrid blinking, usually a sign that they were trying to turn on and mimic the sun that was above the mountain.
He’d forgotten what it was like to sleep here. Years in the labyrinth had worn away at those memories too, but now he could almost remember the scent of fresh coffee in the air that his father had loved to brew. Dag used to travel for months to get a store of it, dragging Bjorn along with him to see all the trolls who were more animal than man still.
Sighing, he shook his head to clear those memories away. He did not have to travel with his father any longer. This home might’ve been full of all those haunting memories, but he did not need to linger in them.
