Painful heat surged through his veins, but it didn’t diminish his overwhelming arousal. Thori whimpered. He grabbed his cock again, but his sloppy strokes didn’t bring any relief this time. Ithurt.
Thori writhed, overwhelmed by a maelstrom of pleasure and agony. He was sweating, desperate. But he couldn’t make it stop. He couldn’t.
What was happening to him?
Curling into a tight ball, Thori pressed his eyes shut. The heat consumed him. He needed release. But it wouldn’t stop.
It wouldn’t stop.
It wouldn’t stop.
It wouldn’t stop.
“Thori?”
Heat. He was surrounded by heat. It felt like being trapped in the burning halls of Muspelheim.
But then there was a cool touch against his shoulder.
“Thori, what’s wrong?”
He forced his eyes open. Norrin’s sharp features hovered above him, there again to save him when he thought he couldn’t take it any longer, just like the day of the whipping.
Norrin was handsome. So handsome.
Thori didn’t know what to do.
“Make it stop,” he heard himself beg, reaching for soft brown hair and cool skin. “Please, make it stop.”
Norrin pressed a hand to Thori’s brow as if he wanted to gauge his temperature.
Eagerly, Thori leaned into the touch. Yes! This was better. Heneededhis touch.
“Are you—taking me to the ritual now?” Thori slurred.
He didn’t even care anymore. The ritual would mean Norrin putting his hands on him, touching every part of him. He needed—
“The ritual is taken care of. You don’t have to worry about it.”
Norrin’s voice washed over him, deep and calm, making him feel so much better.
“But—”
Another wave of heat ran through his body. Was Norrin going to leave him like this? Not having to perform the ritual should reassure him, but he dreaded being left in this horrible state. Why didn’t Norrin just take him?
Suddenly embarrassed, Thori tried to twist away. He could endure this. This strange heat had to be Svanhild’s doing; aseiðrof passion entangling him. He just needed to wait until it was over. Easy.
But Norrin clearly had other ideas. Grabbing him by the shoulder, he turned Thori around again, laying him out on his back. His defiance simply crumbled at this slight touch.
A moan slipped past Thori’s lips, and he opened his legs without thinking. A part of him wanted to recoil, to refuse theseiðrkeeping him trapped. Another shameless part wanted Norrin to make his suffering stop. He wanted his weight on top of him, his hand around his cock, wanted to be filled up and fucked until—
Gasping, Thori jerked back until he bumped against the headboard.
“You don’t hide from me, Odinsson,” Norrin growled. “Have you forgotten your promise? You said you’d serve me if I spared you the ritual.”
“Still, you let your priestess enchant me!”
Pulling a silken sheet to his chest, Thori tried to hide his arousal. Norrin recoiled as if taken aback by his words.
