“With you looking how you look, you got any idea why I wanna burn the whole world down?”
Samara was keening, spasming under Bjorn and Bjorn quickly leaned up, made sure the IV wasn’t close to being dislodged, because Samara spasmed her orgasm, her whole body shuddering and shaking with the force of it.
Bjorn watched her with hooded eyes, a little awe floating through him. “Didn’t even touch you. Samara, wasn’t even fucking you--” and Samara wanted to be ashamed, at least a little, but her body was still making weak jerks and she was still making tiny, punched out whimpers against the press of Bjorn’s body, which was suddenly closer as he started fucking her in earnest, damn near rutting.
Samara could feel his penis against her pussy, and she wanted it, wanted to be plugged up with Bjorn’s come, but Bjorn must have had other ideas, because he jerked out at the last instant and raised himself up on rickety knees, towering over Samara. Samara knew her eyes were big, mouth agape, and she was flushed from head to toe.
Bjorn was coming all over her belly, blazing white streaks, mosaic of Bjorn, littering her chin to the bottom of her stomach, territory mark. Bjorn was too unfettered by his claim to flop down gracelessly beside Samara, instead he was smearing it into Samara’s skin, humming softly.
He pressed dirty fingers to Samara’s lips and smeared it there, groaning audibly when Samara licked them clean, picture of innocence, still too fucked out to realize what it was she just did.
“I love you, Samara. But next time you want something, just ask me, alright?” Samara was blushing; Bjorn was royally pissed when he had found Samara up and at ‘em, attempting to shuffle her way downstairs, flummoxed at the top step as to how to drag the IV stand with her. She was in no state to carry the damn thing.
Sure, Bjorn carried her right back to bed and fucked the shit out of her, but Bjorn was livid. And under that anger was real fear, and it had Samara ducking her head in annoyance and shame. “Fine. But I’ve been on this thing for two weeks already. M’not gonna lay here all day. Fucking sucks.”
Bjorn ran a hand over her lower lip and smiled indulgently. “Fair enough. I’ll carry you down to the couch, and set you up there. You could watch Game of Thrones all day.” Samara snorted, but perked up despite that, and was momentarily irritated at the fact that this was what her life had come to.
She almost fucking missed the goddamn hustle.
Bjorn was leaving the mediator’s office where he and Demerle had given an update on the current state of affairs. He was walking to the car lost in thought when he felt a presence to his right. He tensed, wondering if someone was trying to attack him. There was no one around except a solitary tall black man, leaning on the wall, with his hands in his pockets. He nodded at Bjorn and Bjorn frowned, wondering what was familiar about him. The man straightened up, walking toward Bjorn.
“Mr. Fredriksen. It's good to meet you at last,” he said.
“Do I know you?”
“You’re the man having a baby with my daughter,” he said with a pleased smile. A light bulb went off in Bjorn’s head.
“Ah. You are Christopher Khaled,” he stated.
“In the flesh. So…shall we talk…compensation?”
“Compensation for what?”
“Impregnating my daughter of course; causing her public embarrassment, of course this in no way impacts child support.”
Bjorn laughed, “You are amusing.”
Chris Khaled’s face fell, “I would have hoped you’d be reasonable about this.”
Bjorn took a step toward Chris. “Get out of here. Never contact me, or your daughter again. Next time I won’t be so polite,” he whispered before turning his back on Samara’s dad and walking away. Chris watched him go, thunder in his eyes.
Alison got up from the sofa, at what effectively now was partly her place but she still saw it as Bjorn's, and answered the door. She opened it to find someone she'd of never of expected. Chris.
"What the?" Alison asked the tall dark man in front of her.
"Nice to see you too.” Chris said rubbing his shoulders due to the cold.
"What? Why are you here?" Chris’ face dropped a little and he looked to the floor scuffing his shoes on the door step before looking at Alison with a slanted head.
"Got kicked out of the hotel."
"What and ya think you can just turn up here?"
"You're the only person I know that won't beat 10 shades out of me for showing up at her door."