Weaving Fate - Nora Ash Page 0,67
promised me, wanted to believe that he’d be able to keep his word.
He kissed me back with matching fervor, and in it I found the truth: He would help me find a way out of the madness. Somehow, he would. My gentlest mate.
“Bjarni,” I whimpered between kisses. “Bjarni…”
He undressed me, never separating our lips for more than a breath, large hands covering first my breasts and then sliding low, finding where they fit so perfectly on my hips.
His own clothes followed, a rumble of longing leaving his throat as I drew my hands up along his body to rest them on his thick pecs.
“You’re beautiful,” I whispered. Somehow along the way I’d forgotten what he was—an alpha god in his prime. Seeing him naked in front of me, there was no denying it. He was big and thickly muscled, blond fur soft under my palms as I took in every lean angle of his body and face.
He cracked a grin, eyes dark with hunger as they roamed over my bare form. “No one’s called me beautiful before, sweetie. Handsome, yes. Mighty. Big. But nothing so soft and gentle as beautiful. You’re the beautiful one, little omega, with your lush tits and those chocolate eyes of yours.”
I sucked in a breath when he bent his head and took one of my nipples between his lips as if to underline his point.
“Mountains are beautiful. Storms. There’s nothing soft of gentle about those.” I gasped as he flicked his tongue over the sensitive bud and slipped one hand from my hips to my clit, thumbing the hood shielding it. “I think you’re beautiful. Don’t tell me your masculinity is too fragile to take it as a compliment.”
He grinned against my breast, the vibration drawing a moan from me before he popped his mouth off my nipple and pushed me down on my back on the furs. Looming over me high on his knees, he looked feral and fierce.
“Are you really daring your alpha to show you there’s nothing fragile about his masculinity, mate?”
“Maybe,” I breathed, excitement crawling up my inner thighs and right into my clit.
Bjarni’s grin turned to a smirk, the look of a predator, and I bit my lip in anticipation. But when he fell on top of me, catching his weight on his arms, his expression softened.
“Don’t push me, Annabel,” he said, voice rough but resigned. “Your exhaustion is painted all over your face. I’ll be gentle—this time.”
Gratitude made me wrap my arms around his wide shoulders even as I pouted at him. He was right—I was worn to the bone, both from the magical exertion and the long walk to find Loki, as well as my heat and double-claiming before that.
Once upon a time, back when I’d thought I’d never be the kind of woman to spread her thighs for an alpha, sex had always been soft and gentle. I’d thought that was how I liked it—a slow build that never rent me of control.
Now I knew different. From the first time Magni had been inside of me, I’d known my body craved rough, unyielding submission despite my mind’s protests at the concept. In this moment, though, gentle sex sounded like chicken soup for my ovaries.
I stroked a hand along his shoulder to his jaw, pulling him into a deep kiss by his chin. He hummed with want, ravaging my mouth with his in the most languid, exquisite way.
I’d never known a kiss could be so undeniably laced with desire and yearning, yet so slow and gentle at the same time. I shouldn’t have been surprised, though; Bjarni himself was sweet and gentle, yet entirely fueled by passion and instincts, and his kiss showed me with all possible clarity exactly what kind of man my newest mate was.
“Make love to me,” I breathed.
“Gladly,” he growled, the velvet gravel of it pebbling my nipples and making my clit throb.
He slid down my body, pressing kisses along my skin until he came to my flushed sex. Groaning, he sucked in a breath, scenting me.
“Gods, you smell so good,” he rasped before he pressed in, splitting my labia with his tongue.
His clever lips found my clit the next second, and then he showed me how an alpha makes love.
Twenty-Five
Modi
“I wonder what Thor’s going to say about both his sons sharing a mate with his least favorite god’s offspring,” Loki said, his tone conversational. The swelling had finally gone down enough that he was able to make himself understood—not that that was particularly