“What is that?” Astrid asked.
Mischievous and radiant, Freya smiled. “I am in control tonight.”
Freya repositioned herself, swinging one leg over Astrid’s other side so she was straddling her.
Astrid was surprised by two things: the first, that she knew she was ready to try this, that she would not embarrass herself; and the second, that she felt comfortable doing it, even if she failed. Freya would not judge her.
There would be room for improvement later.
Freya inched herself higher over Astrid, passing her breasts, her neck. Her cunt hovered over Astrid, and unbidden, Astrid licked her lips.
Freya’s hair covered her eyes. From below, she was even more beautiful. Muscular save for the soft curves of her belly and her breasts. Her collarbones shifted as she eased herself directly over Astrid’s face and lowered.
Astrid’s tongue unfurled. Tentatively, she pressed the tip to Freya’s inner thigh, just off-center.
Freya shuddered. She brought her hand to the crest of her lips and parted them. She was wet—gleaming.
Astrid wanted so badly to taste her.
Astrid’s tongue found Freya’s clit and swirled. Controlled, clockwise. A high-pitched noise came from Freya’s throat as she settled onto Astrid’s mouth, helping Astrid move, guiding her to Freya’s pleasure.
She tasted like everything Astrid had ever wanted in her life. If Astrid could stay here forever, she would.
“More,” Freya said.
Astrid unfurled more of the length of her tongue. How much could Freya take? Human tongues were so small, though Freya had had no problem pleasuring Astrid with hers. Astrid filled Freya, and Freya bobbed, up and down, and released little moans with each movement.
Astrid grabbed Freya’s waist to anchor her, and Freya gently knocked Astrid’s hand away. Freya’s fingers wound around Astrid’s horns, firm but not painful, and she thrust at Astrid’s face.
“More,” Freya grunted.
Astrid filled her more, following her quick movements. A sheen of sweat glistened on Freya’s toned stomach, drops beading. Astrid had to close her eyes. The sight of Freya like this was too much—Astrid thought her heart might explode.
Freya’s thrusts quickened. “More,” she said, and then, “More,” and then Astrid had reached the full length of her tongue, feeling Freya’s soft insides all around, pulsing with their heartbeats. Freya’s grip on Astrid’s horns tightened; her muscles clenched; her breathing came faster and faster.
All at once, Freya’s full body quaked, and Astrid’s eyes flew open, wanting to see her like this. Head thrown back, her arms straining to hold on. Astrid plunged fully inside of her and out and then again. Freya shrieked, a sound Astrid had never heard before but very badly wanted to hear again.
And then Freya slumped down. Astrid curled her tongue back in on itself, back into her mouth. Freya’s cunt was pink and engorged, used and drained.
“Did I hurt you?” Astrid said, suddenly worried.
Freya wiped her sweaty hair out of her eyes. “I told you,” she said, “that I have a high pain tolerance.”
Astrid swallowed. The tantalizing taste of Freya lingered on her tongue. She could have done it again, many times, but she was scared to break her.
Freya covered Astrid’s cheek in kisses, and then down under her ear, and into her hair, her horns, her forehead, her eyes. “That was lovely,” she said.
“I love you, Freya,” Astrid said. “I really do.”
Freya curled into Astrid’s side. “I love you, too,” she said.
Chapter Twenty-One
The fire crackling in the hearth and the even breathing of Astrid’s sleep were the only two noises in the room. Astrid was nestled into the nook of Freya’s arm. It was so comfortable—more comfortable than Freya had been in a long time.
And yet Freya could not sleep.
Without a doubt, this was the most surreal night of Freya’s life. She could not believe she’d finally had the chance to be with Astrid. Her fingers flexed at Astrid’s side, remembering the sensation of Astrid around them. She’d been unbelievably soft. Perfect in every way.
