“You’re doing so well,” Njord breathed, kissing him, fucking him deeply, and then he tightened his grasp on Thori’s power,lightning enveloping them both and thunder rumbling like a beast ready to pounce. Thori was drowning in pleasure, liquid fire spreading through his veins.
He was trapped in this state of pure bliss, floating for what could be merely a few breaths or could be hours.
His pleasure exploded like a star, and Thori came with a cry, his release spilling against Njord’s belly. He dimly registered Njord cursing under his breath, his thrusts stuttering before he went rigid, finding his own release. The lightning flared white hot before slowly fading around them, and for a long moment, neither of them moved. Thori lay boneless and spent, his chest heaving as he tried to remember how to breathe, while Njord collapsed on top of him.
“That was—” Njord started, then seemed at a loss for words, and Thori felt a surge of pride at the fact that Njord was as overwhelmed as he was.
“Yes,” Thori agreed, because he couldn’t think of anything eloquent either.
So they lay in silence, their breath slowly evening out. Njord arranged them more comfortably, and Thori couldn’t help but bask in his warmth and marvel at the residual sparks of lightning that kept dancing across his skin. He felt drowsy, content, his muscles aching pleasantly.
“I don’t think anyone knows that this is possible,” Njord mumbled. “Sharing our powers like this.”
“Sveinn will soon learn about our feat,” Thori said, feeling very smug about it. “And neither he nor Svanhild will like it.”
To accomplish something new and unheard of, something no other god had achieved before, felt incredible. He couldn’t wait to brag to Freyja and Frey about it. When he saw them again. If—
“Thori?”
“Huh?”
“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”
“It’s nothing.”
“I could see your mood dim like the radiant sun vanishing behind storm clouds.”
Hel, how could Njord see through him so easily?
“When you lived in Asgard, how did you handle not knowing if you’d ever see your sister again?”
Understanding dawned in Njord’s eyes, and something that looked almost like tenderness.
“I knew I wouldn’t let Odin keep me away from my family.”
“I see,” Thori sighed. “You were under no obligation to stay when theÆsirwere the enemy. You just had to wait for an opportunity to outwit my father.”
“Doesn’t the same hold true for you?”
Thori smiled at him.
“No. I may not like it, but your decision to keep me here is just. And I value justice. I value revenge.”
“Thori.” Njord pulled him more securely against his chest, gentle hands combing through his hair. “Don’t worry about such matters now. You did so well sharing your thunder with me. I want you to rest.”
“But—”
“Sleep. You’ll need your strength tomorrow.”
And maybe Njord had infused his command with just a hint ofseiðrbecause Thori found it impossible to resist the pull of sleep.
twenty-six
The Battle of the Misty Sea
Njord
He lay awake long after Thori’s breath had evened out, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest.
