Ægir’s Bride Ch. 05

Kirsty watched him. Something was up. He was quiet. Too quiet. Too laid back. She always knew that 'Happy' hid a dark side, but it had been out in force today.

She smiled as she remembered giving them nicknames over dinner that first night on the boat. Mikael was Grumpy she had decided, though she might have to change that one now that she knew him better. Sven was much too serious for any of the seven dwarfs. The way he carried the weight of the world upon his shoulders earned him the name of Atlas.

Bjorn with his broad smile had been Happy. No doubt about it. Except as she watched him now, just leaning against the door. He was anything but. And that scared her...perhaps more than her 'bad boy.' She wanted to make this man laugh, see that smile which she was so used to.

She remembered what Mikael had said earlier. But she still did not get why Bjorn and even Sven seemed so upset. Sub drop, if that was what it was, was common. It was just that she was not used to it. She had not known what it was or what to do...now she did.

She frowned and turned back to straighten the mess up while she thought about it. It was not the fact that they had used most of his shaving cream, she chuckled at the thought as she picked up the can. There was still just a bit left. Even his anger with Mikael did not fully explain the dark mood hanging like a cloud over him. When all else failed, she decided to take the straight approach, "Why are you so angry with Mikael?" she asked as she shook the can.

His handsome face darkened even more if that were possible as he crossed his arms across that magnificent chest, "Because he damned well should have taken better care of you. That was his fucking responsibility...just as much as it is mine and Sven's."

Kirsty felt anger course through her. The way he said that went against all that she had ever been taught. Women were strong, capable of making their own decision, they did not need anyone, especially a man to look after them. She could almost hear her mother's voice in her head. Nancy Dickens would never tolerate such 'drivel' from anyone.

It was the biggest reason why she had had such a hard time coming to terms with her own submissive nature. But choosing to submit to him, to them was one thing. Being 'their responsibility' was a whole new level. One she was not ready to cede to anyone...even him. Especially this stranger that towered over her darkly.

With the wet towel in one hand and the can of shaving foam in the other, she stood and faced him. Her anger might not equal his but it was getting there. "Responsibility? I am a big girl. I am no one's responsibility. I have been taking care of myself all..."

He was across the room before the next word was out of her mouth. His fingers laced through her hair and pulled her up against him. "And how exactly was that working for you, darling? Do you want me to remind you of all the little secrets you told me over the past few months? The friends who aren't really. The man you stayed with but did not love. The roommates that you barely spoke to. Have I missed any, Kirsty? Oh yes, the parents you see once a month for an hour."

Being reminded of all that by him just then was not what she wanted. The fact that it was all the truth only made the situation worse. She brought the can of shaving foam from behind her back and sprayed it in his face.

His green eyes darkened as he swiped the worst of it off and lowered his face towards hers, "That was not a smart move, my sweet Freya."

Her whole body trembled in his arms. A moment before her anger had been blazing, but at those simple words it was an inferno of a whole different kind that was consuming her. "That was not fair," she whispered as his mouth covered and claimed hers.

Her sweet, gentle Bjorn was demanding and thorough as his tongue and teeth conquered every corner of her mouth. Her nipples that had instantly hardened at those words were chaffing against the heavy, wet material of her top and bra. All she could taste was the shaving foam but by the time, he finally drew back from the kiss, she was trembling but it was from anything but anger.

"Strip," he growled almost against her lips.

"What is it with you guys and the stripping thing? There are clubs for that sort of thing," she tried to tease but it came out more a throaty whisper.

He stared at her, "We'll save the table dance for another time, Kirsty. Right now, we both need a shower." He should have been laughing. Where was her Happy?

She looked at her wet clothes and the shaving cream, there was no denying his words. But still she could not fight the thread of fear that was weaving itself through her mind. She brought a hand to his chest, "Please Bjorn, you're scaring me. Just tell me what's wrong. Please."

***

He wanted to be angry. Some part of him still was. But her words, those simple words were all it took. He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against hers as he breathed deeply for a couple of minutes. The anger and jealousy were still there when he opened them but at least they were under control now. He tried smiling at her but knew it was a feeble attempt.

"Let me bath you please," he tried again. She studied his face for a long moment and then nodded. She reached for the hem of her t-shirt, but his hands covered hers and stilled them. "No, let me. Let me care for you tonight. Okay, my love?"

She frowned up at him but once more she merely nodded. His fingers in her hair tightened and he pulled her head back further, "Bad manners, my sweet Freya." He felt the shock race through her whole body. He smiled, his beautiful wife was so fucking submissive, her mind so open to his and her body was so damned responsive. The conditioning was happening even faster than he had imagined.

But not fast enough. He craved that power, especially now. He needed to know that there was something he could give her that the others could not. Something deeper and intensely binding between them. But he had always favored the mental component to these games...the mind fucks. And he needed to be so deeply inside this woman's mind that she could never fucking get him out.

He breathed deeply again, forcing his mind back from the darkness that he only ever barely managed to keep hidden just beneath the surface. Unlike Mikael, he had never coveted Sven's role as leader. He was more than satisfied to just do his part, a member of the team was not his issue. But when it came to women he had always known where his proclivities lay...and they frightened even him. The depth of control he craved was deeper than most.

When it was just games, carefully negotiated consent in clubs, it had been easy. But he had always felt like an ass even then. He knew those women always wanted more than he gave, offered more than he could ever accept. It was why he had so rarely played.

But with her...it was so fucking different. She was different. With her, he wanted it all. And he wanted it instantly. He wanted the very air she breathed. He wanted her dependent upon him for that. He wanted her orgasms... Oh, fucking, goddess, did she realize why he had chosen those words as the trigger. He smiled as he reluctantly released her.

He stared at her as he spoke, "The correct response was not nodding that pretty head of yours. The correct response was...'Yes, Master.' Do you understand me, Kirsty?"

He heard the quick intake of her breath. She always did at that word. Let her. It was a powerful reminder of what he wanted from her...the depths of his need. But after that brief pause her expressive eyes widened at that word, she dropped her head and whispered, "Yes, Master."

He smiled and brushed the pad of his finger across her cheek, "Good girl." He pulled her into his arms and just held her for a long moment. Trying to calm and reassure them both. "You will wait while I get your bath ready. You are not to undress. I will do that. Do you understand, Kirsty?"

She started to nod, then she whispered, "Yes, Sss." Again she caught herself, he watched as her throat moved up and down, swallowing back the words, "Yes, Master." He was so fucking proud of how much stronger the words were when they came this time.

He kissed the top of her head, "Good girl."

Then he broke the embrace and finished rinsing out the tub. His mother's favorite. The ancient bear claw tub was huge. It would easily fit them both. Of course, she might have to sit on his hard cock, but they would save that for another time, he promised himself. He made adjustments to the taps, using his wrists just as he had on the rare occasions that he had bathed Monika as a baby.

They had all taken turns caring for her. That woman had never been maternal. Never really wanted anything to do with the child. He supposed that they had dismissed the obvious with Monika for so long, blaming it upon her childhood. He really was happy to see how quickly Kirsty had taken to his niece. It was his...

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, forcing his mind back from that path once more. This was his night with her. And he was not going to let Mikael spoil it. Sven either for that matter. But what worried him most was not his brothers...but his reaction to them. His uncle's words aside, he never once remembered his father or his uncles being anything but united when it came to his mother. He would have time later for unravelling that mystery too. Maybe even speak to his mother about it, but right now, he wanted...needed...to focus upon the present. Upon her.

He stood up and gathered the other things that he needed. His body wash, his shampoo. He knew that he should have ordered her own while he was purchasing the clothes he wanted her to wear. But he had not. The truth was that like his shirts he wanted her to wear his scent.

Was that part of this too? Washing his brother from her body? He could easily do that, but what he had seen earlier of the two of them bent over this tub laughing and chatting so easily warned him that no matter how hard he scrubbed, he could not wipe Mikael from her mind. And that fucking bothered him more than he was ready to admit just then.

So he did not as he poured half the bottle of body wash into the tub until a plethora of bubbles floated upon the surface. The whole room filled with the dark musky scent that he favored. Only then did he stand and face her. She was just watching him. He smiled at her, tried his best to reassure her...or maybe it was himself that he needed to reassure.

When he stood before her, she brushed the side of his face tenderly. "Bjorn, please, Mikael really did not..."

He shook his head firmly and placed his finger over those sweet lips that were still red and slightly swollen from his kisses. "No more. I do not want to talk about my brothers tonight. Is that understood?"

She sighed and tried to smile, but it did not reach her eyes as she nodded, "Yes, Master."

He smiled as he lifted the t-shirt over her head and tossed it in the laundry basket. His hand covered her breast as his thumb caressed her hard nipple through the thin silky material of her bra. It was hard to begin with but puckered even more at his touch. He was fascinated by it as he toyed with it for a long moment. Her breathing was quicker and more shallow. He could do this all night.

But maybe not, he thought as he fitted her whole breast into the palm of his hand and squeezed softly, "You fit so fucking perfectly into the palm of my hand." The way that she leaned into him and stared up at him did funny things to his guts. "Do you know why I choose Freya?"

He loved the funny dazed sort of look in her face, like she could not manage to focus upon what he was saying for what he was doing. He dropped to his knees. His hands on her waist drew her closer still as his mouth captured that turgid peak and suckled upon it. When he finally did release it, his tongue toyed with it between words as he spoke, "I choose the words...My...Sweet...Freya."

Her moan was loud as her knees buckled, only his hands around her waist kept her from falling to the ground in a puddle. He could tell that she was incredibly close. So fucking close to an orgasm. And she still wore those damned impossibly tight jeans that hugged her curvy ass. "Do you know who she is?" he whispered against her belly button as his tongue swirled around it slowly.

She whimpered, "Some fucking goddess. Bjorn, you're driving me crazy. I need to come so fucking bad. Please."

He shook his head against her softness, "Not yet, I want you to hold it back as long as you can. Can you do that for me, sweetheart? Can you hold back the tide that wants to sweep you away? For me?" His tongue went back to toying at her navel as his thumb brushed her nipple so lightly that he was not sure she could even feel it. But her moans said she did.

"I'll try," she whimpered as he unbuttoned her jeans and slowly lowered the zipper. His tongue followed their lead and drew a wandering path across her lower belly. His cock stiffened even more in his jeans.

If Monika had been the bait he used with Mikael, it had been a son that had drawn his elder brother. But if Sven thought for a moment he was just going to step aside on that one... No, he was every bit as determined as his brother to get her pregnant and just as determined that it be his son...or his daughter for all he fucking cared. But his. He wanted that part of her too. 'Fucking, hell, admit it...you want all of her.'

But he fought that voice back as surely as he fought the sudden urge to push her jeans and panties aside, to bury himself inside of her, to come so deep and so often in her body that it ripened with his baby. That was not their way, he reminded himself for what seemed like the thousandth time that day alone.

If he could not control his thoughts, he did his actions as he slowly trailed his hands from her full breasts that he knew would only become fuller once she was pregnant. His hands finally slipped inside her jeans, he frowned as he found she wore nothing beneath them.

His tongue travelled lower as well. He pressed a soft kiss at the bottom of the zipper as he began to push the jeans down her impossibly long legs. Legs that he imagined wrapped about his waist as he pressed her against the cold tiles of the shower, as he buried himself inside of her body over and over again.

The jeans puddled around her ankles as he pressed another kiss on her bare mound. He inhaled the sweet smell of her need as he leaned his face against her abdomen wrapping his arms about her and holding her as tightly as he could. Too tightly perhaps as his demons raged inside his fucking mind. Demons that he had battled as long as he could remember. Demons that this woman alone seemed to ignite, to stir to life...and to calm.

He lifted first one foot and then the other, removing that final barrier and flinging it too across the room. He wished he could as easily fling the demons in his head aside. His hands guided her body to the edge of the tub. He tugged her hips until she sat on the edge of the cold steel and enamel rim. He tilted her pelvis and his hands made their way to her knees, "Open for me," he growled.

He smiled at how quickly, how automatically she obeyed his command. But he did not dwell upon it as he lend forward and buried his tongue between her soft thighs. His tongue homed in upon the tender morsel of flesh at the juncture of her thighs. He toyed with it, licking it, twirling around its sweetness slowly.

He felt her tremble then tense. "Not yet," he blow the words right across it and revelled in her soft whimpers as he returned to the torture...and the sweetness.

***

She knew this game...it was not new to her. But this was totally different from what Mikael had done. He had sensed when she was close then drawn back, leaving her wanting, needing. This was worse, so fucking much worse. Bjorn knew how close she was...how fucking much she wanted and needed to come. He did not even try to back off, his tongue continued torturing her stiff clit...and still he demanded that she hold back her orgasm.

The task seemed impossible as he licked at her...once, twice, thrice...what the fuck was four, she tried to focus upon something else. Anything else other than how incredibly good his tongue felt on her clit. She bit her lip as she thought about how different this felt without whiskers abrading her thighs...how easy it would be to just...

Then he was leaning back on his heels once more, reaching for the handles to turn off the water. Her whole fucking body was on fire...and he stopped. She wanted to hit him. She wanted to pull her hair out. She wanted to scream.

Then his hand landed a solid blow to her outer thigh, "Bath time. My sweet, greedy little cunt."

She shivered at those words. If the man was trying to calm her down, relax her, dirty talk was not the way to do it. But all she said was, "Yes, Master," as he lifted her legs and turned her, slowly lowering them into the incredibly warm, almost perfect water. She moaned again as she slid into it.

She leaned against the end of the tub and closed her eyes with a sigh. She could almost lose herself in it. Fall asleep again. If it were not for him. She was torn again. Not even the lapping of the water could extinguish the fires he had ignited in her.

But at the same time, she found herself blushing, fighting the illogical need to cover her full curves as much as she could with her arms. She was not certain, no matter what this man said, if she would ever be completely comfortable being naked like this with her Adonis...Thor.

Then his hands were on that body as he spread more of the soapy suds over her. She frowned...him. It was the smell of him. Each of them smelled just slightly different. Perhaps each used different scents, she frowned. She giggled...who would have thought that after working with damned fish all day they could all manage to smell so fucking sexy.

"Tell me," his voice caressed her ear lobe as surely as his hands had once more found the aching fullness of her breasts.

Did she have any choice? "Why don't any of you smell of the fish? The sea, yes, but not the fish...just sex, sea and man."

He chuckled as she felt his lips brush hers as lightly as his thumbs strummed across her nipples. "Because we have the good sense to shower before we come to you, sweetheart."

She opened her eyes and stared up into his lazily, "And what if I wanted the pleasure of bathing you like this?"

He sighed and smiled back, "You are so fucking fascinating woman. I don't think I will ever grow tired to exploring your depths." He paused for a moment as he filled his hands with soap once more. "Dunk under the water," he ordered.

When she emerged and wiped the water from her eyes, she noticed that he had moved from the side of the tub to the end behind her. His fingers slid through her hair as he gently began to build the lather. It was almost as fucking amazing as her friend Roz who was the cranio-osteopathist ...no, better, because his touch was firmer, more sensual. She found herself moaning with each stroke.

"It is called service submission," he said as he continued the slow message.

She sighed just enjoying the feel of his hands on her head, "What is?"

"The need to bath your Master. Do small things like bring coffee in the morning. It takes traditional chores that just need to be done, that should be a shared responsibility...it takes all of that to another level. A depth of submission that is not common," his voice was low and she could feel his breath caressing her skin as well as his fingers.

"Why? You do those things for me all the time. You brought me cookies," she smiled at the memory of waking in the cabin that first time. Her hands were still tied and she was completely naked with Sven's bite marks on her tits. She woke to this god kneeling next to her with a plate of freshly baked cookies and a smile. "And my tea...you're always bringing me tea in the morning," she frowned. "How is that any different? It is just what you do for someone you..."