“It’s a little long for my liking anyhow,” said Freya.
Astrid lightly punched her shoulder. The tunic reached just to mid-thigh.
Freya tilted forward to kiss her, planting one hand on her thigh. Her skin was so warm to the touch, inviting. Astrid shifted against Freya’s touch. She cupped the back of Freya’s head in her hand, leaning her head back to kiss her deeper.
Freya tumbled into Astrid’s lap. Astrid pulled her up and held her close. Their mouths moved faster, more desperate. The sting of Astrid’s tusks grazing Freya’s skin was a welcome kind of pain. One Freya could get used to.
Freya clenched Astrid’s tunic in her fist.
“This really has to come off,” she mumbled against Astrid’s mouth.
Breathing heavily, Astrid allowed some space between them. Freya grabbed the tunic from behind Astrid’s neck and whipped it onto the ground.
She couldn’t help but place a palm against Astrid’s midsection. Her soft skin was occasionally marred by a nick from an old wound, from back when she’d been a fighter. Freya allowed herself to circle the underside of one of Astrid’s breasts. She looked up into Astrid’s eyes and saw softness there, saw love.
Astrid was still a fighter, even if her fighting looked a little different now.
Freya’s greedy eyes drank in every detail of Astrid—her collarbones, her elegant neck, her horns—so elaborate, so detailed up close—and her tusks, the redness around her mouth.
“You’re gorgeous,” Freya said. She took hold of the end of Astrid’s long hair and twined it through her fingers.
“You certainly make me feel that way,” Astrid said.
Freya released Astrid’s hair and shoved at her shoulders until she was flat against the carpet with Freya on top. Freya adjusted her stance, her thighs squeezing Astrid’s midsection to either side. Astrid tugged at Freya’s tunic, and Freya, laughing, removed her own layers so Astrid could touch her skin.
Astrid put one tentative finger to the fresh scar between Freya’s breasts. Alvor’s arrow had pierced her there, nearly taking her life. The wound no longer hurt, but the scar would remain. Just one of many, Freya thought.
“We have been through much to get here, haven’t we?” Astrid asked gently.
“It only makes me appreciate what we have more,” said Freya.
Freya leaned down so their skin pressed together, torsos touching. Astrid’s hungry hands roved over Freya’s naked back as they kissed. Freya touched her lips to Astrid’s jaw, the soft spot under her neck that made her whole body clench, her collarbone. She moved down, taking Astrid’s nipple in her mouth. Astrid squeezed Freya’s arms as Freya’s tongue worked. She licked the underside of Astrid’s breast and trailed wet kisses that tensed Astrid’s muscles all the way to her navel.
Freya nudged Astrid’s legs up as she took her place between them. She looked up at the hills and valleys of her favorite person, the orc who made her feel at home, and a rush of gratitude overcame her.
With a sleepy smile, Astrid stroked Freya’s hair with one hand.
“What do you want?” Freya asked.
“You,” Astrid said. “All of you.”
Freya kissed Astrid’s soft belly as her searching fingers found Astrid’s clit to a sharp intake of breath. Freya wove patterns into Astrid, learning which movements made her squirm, what she reacted to best. She swirled and flicked and rubbed until Astrid’s hips jerked.
“Inside,” Astrid choked out. “I want you inside.”
Freya’s fingers swept down and inside her. Stars, was she soft. She pressed two fingers in, tilted up at the tips, and Astrid gasped.
“More,” Astrid said.
Freya slipped in another finger, pumping, watching Astrid’s expressions as she rested her head against Astrid’s thigh. Her own insides squirmed, heat rising to her face. This was a privilege, one she would be happy to exert for the rest of her life.
“M-more,” Astrid said.
Freya pressed a fourth finger into Astrid, and Astrid clenched around her.Sweet goddess.Freya bit back her own moan, seeing Astrid’s head thrown back, lips trembling.
“More, Freya,” Astrid said.
The tips of her fingers and thumb tented together, Freya pushed back into Astrid’s cunt. Astrid grabbed a fistful of Freya’s hair in her hand and thrust. Freya felt Astrid open for her, past the resistance, and watched as her fist disappeared to the wrist.
