“Are you all right, ástin mín?”
I nod, moaning when I feel Skarth’s lips trail down the middle of my back. He grips my hips, and I feel him align his manhood against me.
Ulf smiles as he gently coaxes me to arch my head back. When I do, he slips his thumb into my mouth, hissing when I circle the tip with my tongue. He grips his manhood and moves his hand up and down, focusing on my mouth.
I suck him deeper, my cheeks hollowing.
While doing this, Skarth circles my entrance, and as he inhales, he pushes into me in one thrust. I exhale on his inhale as his size takes my breath away. But he doesn’t allow me to catch my breath as he moves inside me.
I moan around Ulf’s thumb, rocking backward and forward with the speed of Skarth’s thrusts. Ulf is still pleasuring himself, but as I watch the way his big hand wraps around his manhood, I realize I want to be the one to please him—but with my mouth.
Placing my hand over his, I draw him forward and soon replace his thumb with his member. He groans the moment he hits the back of my throat. Skarth and Ulf then begin to work in harmony, their movements perfecting the other as they work my body from the front and back.
I am between both men, surrendering to this wicked ecstasy because for the first time, I don’t have to choose.
Ulf grips my cheeks, and I take all that he gives, trying my best to please him with my mouth as he increases the tempo of his strokes. Skarth does the same.
Gripping Ulf’s upper thighs, I arch my back, opening myself up to Skarth. A guttural growl leaves him as he punishes me with delicious, brutal strokes. He bends down and bites the side of my throat.
Both men smother me as they are everywhere. I don’t know where I start and they end.
I stroke Ulf as I can’t take him all in, and when he pulsates against my tongue, I know he is close to climaxing. A string of Norse spills from him, which excites me further.
I never dreamed I would be the desire of two ruthless Vikings. That they would risk heaven and earth to save me. Most would look at this act as ghastly and immoral, but I have never felt closer to Skarth and Ulf than I do right now.
Skarth pumps his hips wildly. Tears leak from my eyes as I gag on Ulf’s throbbing member. He attempts to pull out, but I hold on tight because I want both men to finish inside me.
For the next few glorious minutes, I rock between Ulf and Skarth, feeling nothing but love and devotion as they own my body, my mind, and my soul. Skarth circles his hips, hitting me deeply, while Ulf plunges into me fiercely.
The familiar coil begins to unwind low in my belly, and when Skarth and Ulf begin speaking Norse, I close my eyes because I want to savor this moment for the rest of my days. I don’t know what they’re saying, but it does sound like they have come to accept that no matter how hard we fight, we are connected, and nothing will ever change that.
Only because of this memory, and not because of Jethro, do I crash into pleasure with a sated moan.
Jethro is grunting, but he’s served his purpose.
“You may go.” I’m being rather cruel, as he still has not finished.
“My Queen?” he pants, his movements ceasing.
“Are you hard of hearing?” I maneuver out of his clutches, thankful we are no longer one, but when I turn around and see the sly smile on his lips, I know I have made a grave mistake. “What have you done?”
“I served you, my Queen,” he replies, his red erect cock only underlining the error of my ways. “You were fucked…in every possible way…you Viking whore.”
He lunges for his dagger, but I read his motives and elbow him in the nose. Blood spurts from the break, but it merely fuels the bloodlust that has remained in a darkened slumber until now.
Springing for the dagger on the floor, I deliver the punishment he deserves as I sever his cock in one swift motion. His eyes widen, before a guttural scream is born from his lips, lips which I slice off before cutting out his tongue.
He gasps for air, but he will enter the bowels of hell, shamed and for all to see what a true cocksucker he is. I pry open the bleeding gash in his face and stuff his cock down his throat, shoving it deep down his gullet with two fingers until he gags on his own member.
An impression of his cock is visible where his Adam’s apple is. I slap his cheek with a smile.
I wish to make his death painful, but I know there is no time.
So I do as Skarth taught me and deliver my vengeance as I draw the dagger across Jethro’s throat, ensuring his cock remains lodged deep. I am showered in his blood and watch the life drain from his eyes. He collapses onto the ground, dead, where I wish I could kill him a thousand times more.
But I cannot.
On instinct, I run from the chapel toward my son's chambers.
