I cross the distance between us in three measured steps, my fingers closing over hers as she examines the ancient blade. The steel slides from her grasp as I set it aside, my hands finding her waist in one fluid motion. One sharp tug brings her against me, the small gasp escaping her lips swallowed by my kiss. Her taste floods my senses—honey and storm winds, Zephyria's essence mixed with something uniquely Bryn. Her fingers tangle in my hair as she melts into me, a soft moan vibrating between us.
The need to claim her burns through my veins, but the slight tremor in her hands, the lingering chill of Zephyria's cold clinging to her skin, stays my hunger. My forehead presses against hers, our breaths mingling in the space between.
"Are you okay, little bird?"
Her eyes meet mine, a smile curving those kiss-swollen lips. "More than okay, Silfrhár." The Norse endearment rolls off her tongue like a caress, settling deep in my chest where only she has reached.
My fingers lace through hers as I guide her toward the en suite. The door swings open to reveal gleaming black marble and chrome fixtures that catch the recessed lighting. A rainfall shower dominates one wall, its glass enclosure stretching from floor to ceiling. The freestanding obsidian tub could easily fit three, while dual sinks rest in floating vanities beneath a mirror that spans the entire wall.
Bryn freezes in the doorway, her eyes wide as she takes in the modern luxury. "By the Norns..." Her fingers trail over the smooth marble counter. "What manner of magic is this?"
I smirk as I lead her toward the shower enclosure. Her confidence falters momentarily as she examines the multiple shower heads with suspicion and curiosity. The thought of being her first guide into this modern indulgence sends a possessive thrill down my spine.
I tap the chrome rainfall head mounted in the ceiling. "Think of it as a controlled waterfall."
Bryn traces the sleek metal with her fingers, her eyes narrowing with the same focus she uses to examine new weapons. "From here?" she asks with genuine wonder as she studies the modern marvel.
"Let me show you." My voice drops low as I reach for the controls, anticipating her reaction.
Warm mist immediately fillsthe enclosure, water cascading down in a perfect waterfall. Bryn's sharp intake of breath sends a surge of satisfaction through me—this fierce Valkyrie who's faced down gods and monsters, captivated by something as simple as modern plumbing.
Her wonder is intoxicating, her joy at discovering something so commonplace making it new again through her eyes.
I strip away my frost-stiffened clothing, aware of Bryn's darkening gaze tracking each movement. Her breath catches as I step closer, my lips finding her ear. I unfasten her armor with practiced precision, each buckle surrendering beneath my touch.
Her scent—wildflowers and steel—floods my senses as I trace her jaw with my teeth. Her pulse thrums against my tongue as I taste her neck, drawing a soft moan from her lips. The armor falls away, forgotten at our feet.
My hands map the curves of her body, working free the laces of her top—the fabric parts, revealing her breasts to my hungry gaze. I brush my thumbs across her peaked nipples, drinking in her sharp intake of breath as she arches into my touch.
Trailing kisses down her throat, I work my way lower, one hand anchored at the small of her back. My fingers find the waistband of her pants, teasing the sensitive skin beneath. Her own hands guide mine lower, and with one fluid motion, I strip away the last barrier between us.
Her eyes meet mine, burning with equal parts desire and defiance. A silent challenge I'm more than ready to accept.
The glass door clicks shut behind us as I position her against my chest. Hot water cascades over her golden skin, drawing a gasp from her lips. "By the Gods, this feels amazing," she moans, head falling back against my shoulder.
My mouth finds her neck, teeth grazing the sensitive spot beneath her ear as steam swirls around us. Her intricate braids come undone under my fingers, platinum strands falling loose like liquid moonlight. I gently turn her head back into the spray, watching the water darken her hair to silver.
Rich shampoo coats my palms before I work it through her tresses, massaging her scalp with firm circles. The sound that escapes her throat is pure pleasure, sending heat straight to my groin. Her warrior's tension melts beneath my touch, each stroke of my fingers drawing another soft moan from her lips.
This Valkyrie, undone by such a simple pleasure, stirs something possessive in my chest. The knowledge that I'm the first to care for her this way only heightens my desire to worship every inch of her.
The last of the conditioner rinses away as she leans into me, her body liquid against mine. Steam wraps around us like a cocoon as I reach for the soap, its masculine scent marking her as mine. The loofah glides over her breasts in slow circles, leaving trails of lather across her golden skin.
Her nipples tighten under my touch, begging for attention. My free hand cups the weight of one breast, thumb circling the peak as she arches into my palm. My cock throbs against the small of her back, her every movement stoking the fire in my blood.
The loofah dips lower, sliding between her thighs. Her breath hitches, and her head falls back against my shoulder. "Erik..." My name falls from her lips, sending electricity down my spine.
"Yes, little bird?" The words ghost across her ear, my arms tightening around her waist. Steam curls between us, hot water beating against our skin.
"Stop teasing and fuck me, Silfrhár," she growls, command bleeding into desire. "Or are you afraid you can't handle—" The challenge in her voice carries that familiar mix of sass and steel that sets my blood on fire.
A growl rumbles through my chest at her words." I can handle anything you dish out, little one."
The soap makes her skin like silk beneath my hands as I position myself. She's hot against my length, drawing sharp breaths from us both as I slide between her thighs.
Finding her entrance, I pause. She answers by arching forward, bracing her hands against the black marble. In one fluid motion, I claim her completely. The sound that tears from her throat mingles with my own groan, echoing off the steam-slicked walls.
"Fuck." The word escapes Bryn in a ragged gasp, her body tensing around me. "Gods, yes," she gasps, her body gripping me like a vice. "So…big, so thick—" Her words dissolve into a moan as I drive deeper.
