“I need to know,” he answers. “I need to know if you’re her.”
He waves his hand over my body and my clothes disappear. I’m just as naked as he.
“What-”
“Open your legs,” he orders me, but I stare at him confused. His smile is sinister yet endearing. “Not for the reason you think. Just do it.”
Going out on faith, I do as I’m told. I can’t deny he’s had me in a daze since the moment he landed in the window. He moved down my body like he’s studying my inner thighs. He slides his hand over the left one and I feel a small jolt as a patch of skin turns gold. A symbol of entwined snakes.
“Minn,”he states in old Norse as his finger traces the symbol.
“Mine? What are you talking about?”
He looks up at me as if my talking is interrupting his reunion with my thigh.
“I put this there, my symbol in pure gold infused into your skin so any man who tries to fuck you know you’re mine.”
He sits up as if he’s said the most normal thing and shows me his back where a big green and black version is tattooed.
“I’ve always had this,” he tells me then he is back between my legs, rubbing my thigh, “but I gave you this on our wedding night.”
“I don’t remember getting married. And my ID doesn’t say I live here.”
“Not in this version,” he laughs.
“What do you mean version? How do you know this stuff?”
"I am a god.”
I don’t know if it’s how he said it or how I heard it, but his sentence seems to reverberate in the room. His words freak me out, no matter how damn fine he is, he lost me with talk of other versions of life, and him being a god. I’m out.
“Put my clothes back on and let me go,” I beg.
“We belong together, Sigyn.”
Hearing that name again hurts enough to make me tear up. I shut my eyes to fight the tears, but they flow freely, full of pain, discontent, and sorrow.
“That name hurts,”I cry in his language. “Just let me go.”
Look at me.
His voice is in my head again. I do as he says, wiping away tears as I focus on him. His lips connect with the still glowing symbol on my inner thigh and somehow my entire body sighs. My core dampens and my nipples are tight and aching for attention. He kisses me once more and I hear his promise.
I’ll fix it.
He continues to plant kisses along my thigh, each press of his lips lessens my fear. I begin to crave the next kiss, falling into arousal and just thinking of him as a man capable of giving my body what he seems to make it crave.
The pecks turn into slow, sucking kisses as he nears the apex of my thighs.
Arms above your head.
I follow his telepathic order and move them above my head, they feel tied in place although I cannot see anything on my wrists. His tongue soaks up my arousal and I stop caring about my wrists. I can’t remember my life beyond a few days, but his tongue sliding over my flesh makes me feel like I’ve been craving his touch for decades.
My back arches off the bed as his tongue dips deep inside, pleasing me in ways I didn’t expect. He may be the god, but I feel worshiped. He’s eyes glow green in the low light and I’m beyond the point of caring that heisn’t normal. Then I remember he thinks I’m his wife.
Maybe I shouldn’t?
Trust me, you should.
