Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 61469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 307(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 307(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
“No,” I sobbed, even as another orgasm ripped through me, my body grinding desperately against the bride’s consolation. “No, I can’t—”
But the vision wouldn’t release me. I watched myself in Horakovsky’s bed, his massive frame looming over me while Takken watched from a chair in the corner, forced to witness his wife’s degradation. I saw Katya and Mila there too, all of us reduced to playthings for the Russian’s amusement. The scene played out in excruciating detail—every touch, every violation, every moment of shame that would be required to get close enough to gather the intelligence we needed.
Orgasm after orgasm crashed through me as the images burned themselves into my consciousness. I was coming apart, splitting between the woman bound to this ancient saddle with her Herra’s cock buried in her most private place, and the woman in the vision who would have to betray everything she’d found here to save her country.
“Please,” I wept, though I didn’t know what I was begging for. “I can’t do it, I can’t—”
The conflict felt like it would tear me in two. How could I give myself to that monster when I belonged to Aksel? How could I let Horakovsky touch me, use me, when every fiber of my being recognized only one master? The thought of his hands on my body, of pretending to enjoy his brutal attention while my Herra watched from afar through whatever surveillance the Sons of Odin could manage—it was too much.
I fled. With a violent wrench of will, I tore myself away from the silver branches, plummeting back into my body just as I felt Aksel swell inside me. His grip on my hips tightened as he drove deep one final time, and I felt the hot pulse of his release filling my claimed bottom. The sensation should have sent me spiraling into another climax, but I was sobbing too hard, the conflict in my chest making it hard to breathe.
“Lorna,” Aksel’s voice came from very far away, though his hands were already working at the bonds holding me to the saddle. “Little one, what did you see?”
The moment my wrists were free, I felt his strong arms wrap around me, lifting me from the saddle with a gentleness that made fresh tears well up at the corners of my eyes. My body felt boneless, overwhelmed by what I’d seen and what I’d have to do. Aksel cradled me against his chest as he carried me to his bed—a massive thing covered in soft furs in the corner of his subterranean hús. He laid me down carefully, then stretched out behind me, pulling me close.
“Shh,” he murmured against my hair, his hand stroking down my spine. “Tell me what you saw that upset you so.”
The words spilled out between sobs—the vision of seducing Horakovsky, of letting him use me while Takken watched, of betraying everything Aksel had so quickly trained me to see as my new destiny. My Herra listened without interrupting, his touch never faltering even as I described the degradation I’d have to endure.
“I won’t force you to do anything you cannot bear,” he said when I finally fell silent. I turned my head over my shoulder to look at him, my brow furrowing. His steel-gray eyes met mine, and I saw something there I hadn’t expected—genuine concern, even tenderness. “There are other ways to gather intelligence. You don’t have to—”
“But I do,” I whispered, the realization settling over me like a weight. “You know I do. No one else can get that close to him. No one else has the access, the opportunity.” I turned all the way around so I could press my face against his chest, breathing in his scent. “The vision was clear. This is the only way to stop what’s coming.”
Aksel’s arms tightened around me, and I felt him press a kiss to the top of my head. “My brave little vǫlva,” he murmured. “You’ve seen the threads of fate more clearly than seers with decades of training.”
I pulled back to look at him, and the words tumbled out before I could stop them. “I love you.”
The admission hung in the air between us. I hadn’t meant to say it, hadn’t even fully realized it was true until the words left my lips. But lying there in his arms, my body still trembling from everything he’d done to me, I knew it with absolute certainty. Somewhere between the collar and the strap, between the visions and the claiming, I’d fallen completely, irrevocably in love with my Herra.
His hand came up to cup my face, thumb brushing away a tear I hadn’t realized had fallen. “Lorna,” he said, and my name on his lips sounded like a prayer. “My sweet, perfect bed thrall. I love you too.”
My heart stopped, then resumed at double speed. “You do?”