Freya shifted her head, and then they were kissing—a slow, building kiss that grew deeper as Freya pushed Astrid back, back, back and joined her on the bed. Astrid’s hands found Freya’s hips, and Freya’s hands found Astrid’s horns. Astridloved that Freya’s first instinct was to go for the part of Astrid that was different, fully accepting who she was down to the base of her. There was nothing quite like Freya’s care.
Freya pushed Astrid down into the sheets by her shoulders and climbed on top of her. With Freya above her, Astrid was dizzy with the anticipation and the realization of a dream she’d had for years coming to fruition. She felt the plane of Freya’s back, the bumps of her spine, and then Freya’s mouth was on Astrid’s neck, her collarbone, her chest.
“What do you like?” Freya breathed against Astrid’s skin.
“This,” Astrid said, panting. “I like this.”
Freya smiled, dazzling, and took Astrid’s nipple into her mouth.
Freya’s touch was nothing short of magic. Her mouth, her hands, her gentle repositioning of Astrid—all of it was perfect, an act she must have done many times to many people. A knot of jealousy formed in Astrid’s stomach at the thought that, all these years, Freya had found her pleasure elsewhere when she could have found it with her.
If only Astrid had been bolder, had said something sooner or opened the door for them. She’d been cold and cut off from everything and everyone. She could only imagine how that had looked to Freya.
Freya slipped lower, kissed Astrid’s navel, then lower still, leaving a string of kisses along Astrid’s hip. She nudged one of Astrid’s legs up so her knee was facing the ceiling and then did the same with the other. Astrid found herself holding her breath, wanting to experience every little detail in full. She wanted to savor it all. She wanted this memory branded onto her brain forever.
“More?” Freya asked. Astrid propped herself on her elbows to look down at her. Freya had a hand wrapped around eachof Astrid’s thighs, holding her open. The warmth of her mouth caressed Astrid’s skin.
“Please,” Astrid said, and Freya grinned.
She lowered her face until all Astrid could see of her was the top of her head, her shiny black hair reflecting the light of the fire, and the profile of her nose. And then her tongue touched Astrid, and Astrid bucked.
Freya held her in place, surprisingly strong, as she tasted Astrid with slow, languorous strokes of her tongue. Pressure built in Astrid’s body, primed for release, and Freya’s tongue quickened, more desperate, at a tantalizing pace. Astrid’s hands found Freya’s hair, and Freya moaned against Astrid, and the vibrations of her throat nearly took Astrid over the edge, nearly made her—
The tense hold slipped from one of Astrid’s thighs. Her leg fell to the side—she’d been doing nothing herself to hold it up—and then Freya’s fingers were teasing her, poised under her skilled tongue. Astrid licked her lips then licked them again. Her shaking hands clutched at the sheets so hard she thought the fabric might rip.
Freya’s fingers filled her, arching, and Astrid let out a sound more animal than anything—something primal she hadn’t known she had in her, something between a wail and a moan, a hiss, and her legs shook in Freya’s grip, and Freya—ever-perfect Freya, ever-wonderful Freya—held Astrid down with her one hand, pinning her there with mouth and fingers and sheer force of will as Astrid burst against her face.
“Stars, Freya,” Astrid said when it was over. Her voice was hoarse.
Freya lifted her face from Astrid’s cunt and smiled. Her chin was shiny with the labors of her love. Astrid’s heart surged at the sight of her.
“You’re so beautiful from down here,” Freya said. “I wish you could see.”
Tears sprang to Astrid’s eyes. She wouldn’t trade this for anything. If she died now, if the queendom burned, none of it would matter. Being with Freya was worth every second.
“I am guessing,” Astrid said, wrenching her mind from the inevitability of the future, “that you know about our tongues.”
Freya’s brows shot up surprise. “Yes.”
“Would you like to try?”
“What is it like?” Freya asked, resting her head against Astrid’s inner thigh. Her hair tickled Astrid’s skin. “I don’t always enjoy being on the receiving end of penetration.”
“It’s gentler than you might think,” Astrid said. But there was part of her that wondered if she had enough control to give Freya what she wanted. She truly was out of practice.
“You’re nervous,” Freya pointed out.
“Sorry,” Astrid said instinctively.
Freya rolled to Astrid’s side. “Did you want to try?”
“I do want to,” said Astrid. She reached down to cup Freya’s face in her hand. Freya closed her eyes and leaned in to kiss the palm of her hand.
“Are you scared because of how long it’s been for you?” Freya asked.
The question shot through Astrid like an arrow. Stars, it was embarrassing to open up to people.
Freya sidled up close to Astrid’s face and leaned in to kiss her. “You forgot something important.”
