He places the knife on the stone, braces his hands on either side of my head, and positions his cock against my opening.
Suddenly, at that little touch against my sensitive folds, my whole body awakens. The pleasure he stirred before surges through me with renewed energy.
I moan—a long sound from deep within my belly—as he advances, stretching my walls to make room for his big size. I’m still wet. Dripping wet. And he easily sinks all the way in, settling deep inside me.
My whole body becomes wide awake. Every brush of his skin, every tiny gust of air is like bolts of sensation through my hyper-sensitive nerves, all travelling the same road, adding more fuel to the heat at my core. One tiny flicker is all it will take. That’s how it feels. But even when he starts moving in and out, I keep hovering, right at the edge of the peak, never reaching it.
“Argh,” I cry, starting to pull at my bonds, unable to hide the frustration growing inside me.
He keeps going for a while, driving me mad. Then he stops, sits up straight, and pulls out, letting his hard cock rest right at my opening.
“Please,” I beg, utterly desperate, lifting my hips, trying to gain more friction, but it’s far from enough.
“You need to bleed on the stone,” he says, eyes darkening, jaw ticking with feral intensity.
“What do you mean?” I lift my head to see the cut on my leg. Blood is trickling from it, tiny drops forming around the symbol I can’t quite make out. “I’m already bleeding.”
“On the stone,” he clarifies.
“But—” My words cut off on a shrill yelp when he pulls the knife across his hand—a sharp motion that instantly draws blood. Red drops spill from his hand, dripping onto my stomach, then dripping onto the stone as he holds his hand out.
“What are you doing?” I squeal, suddenly scared out of my mind, fisting my hands hard, afraid he’ll cut my palm on another sudden impulse.
My eyes widen in horror when he presses his bleeding palm to my chest. I try to look away, but Ulf grabs my face. “Watch, Elina. See my blood color your skin. Watch us merge.”
Terror washes through me at the sight of the long red stripe of blood trailing down my stomach, but when I keep glancing between the blood and Ulf’s demanding expression, the fear shifts. Instead of weighing me down, it turns into a more vibrant energy—a surge through my blood, another sense of connection.
Ulf once again positions his cock at my opening and sinks all the way inside, making me buck up off the rock, my eyes rolling back as a new wave of desire overcomes me.
“Open your palm, Elina. Let me grant your blood to the mountain.”
I don’t know how I manage the courage. It’s not a conscious choice when I open my palm. It just happens. I expect him to cut immediately when he draws the knife over my palm, but he just holds it there while he starts moving inside me.
“Just do it,” I squeal, so damn scared.
But he doesn’t cut. He just keeps fucking me, and somehow, he moves just the right way, his pelvis rubbing against my clitwith each thrust, hitting deep inside me and sending bolts of electricity straight to that same place. My moans rise to screams that echo into the open space around us, and my whole body buzzes with a wild energy that threatens to send me into startled jerks and uncontrollable writhing. But I force myself to remain dead still, just taking, somehow accepting—somehow growing so goddamn desperate for a release that I can’t think about anything else.
My only warning is Ulf training his gaze on me and demanding with a force that rips through the wind, “Come for me!” And then he cuts.
I cry out, pain bursting through my hand, setting fire to my whole system. And somehow, it goes straight to my core. I buck and jerk, screaming uncontrollably as an orgasm, so violent I can barely breathe, rips through me.
Ulf erupts at the same time, growling like a wild bear—like the king of the forest—as he picks up pace and spills his seed inside me.
The energy hisses through the air, our shared pleasure rattling the very earth in a staggering moment of mind-numbing ecstasy. Ulf’s eyes widen, his breath sharpening, and I release everything I thought I was to bask in the total claim he has over me.
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he rasps, lowering himself onto me. He cradles my head gently in his hand and presses me into him. “So fucking perfect.”
We lie there for a long while, both overcome by the intensity of our shared orgasm, breathing hard and soaking each other in.
Finally, Ulf sits up and frees my hands and feet. I wince as he helps me to sit, my body stiff and achy after having been spread out on a stone. Ulf positions me so I can lean on him. Taking my left hand, he studies the wound—the blood that still pebbles around it. Bowing his head, he lifts my hand and drags it over hisface. Then, with a long stripe of blood going from his forehead, over his nose, and smearing his lips, he leans in and kisses me.
A rusty taste spreads over my tongue, and the scent of Ulf fills my senses. The kiss, the strong pull between us, and the primal loss of normality sweep me away, making me levitate there, high above the ground, on the stone, on the summit of the mountain. At that moment, we’re one. My blood on his face, his blood on my body, and his sperm seated deep inside me.
“Mine,” he growls when he breaks off the kiss. “All mine.”
Grabbing my chin, he directs my attention to my thigh. The symbol there. He holds his clan bracelet beside it—the matching symbol on the silver bead. An arrow pointing upward.
“Tiwaz,” he explains. “Justice, honor, and courage. This is me. Your chieftain and your master. The man you’re now tied to through blood and seed—through the mighty power of the mountain.” He turns the bracelet to show me the symbol on the other side—?. “This one—Algiz—I earned last night when I claimed you. It’s a protective rune. It symbolizes my sacred duty to protect you, Elina.”
