Her Viking Wolves(103)
FJ’s eyes squeeze closed like I’m hurting him, like my soft kiss is actually causing him physical pain. And when they open again, I’m surprised to see hot tears burning inside of them.
“I am NOTHING like your father!” he says inside my mind.
“I know,” I answer, beyond sorry for having misjudged him.
“He speaks truth, Varra.” I feel Olafr move into position behind me, his hands on my shoulders, his lips coming to rest on the top of my head. “And this love be a truth he has never spoken to another.”
I believe Olafr. I believe both of them. And for once in my awkward life, the right words appear inside my head, like a rainbow after the rain. “I—I love you, too. I love both of you so much.”
Then unbelievably, magically even more words come. “I’ve always loved you. I think maybe before I even met you.” I take him and Olafr by the hands. “You are two halves. One too human. One too wolf. But together you are my fated mates, and I love you both, so much. And I’m sorry for not believing in you. I’ll never be able to express how sorry I am about that. But please believe me when I tell you I didn’t run to humiliate you. I ran because I love you. Because I wanted to keep you safe. I ran because I didn’t understand, and I thought it was the only way to help.”
Before I’m even all the way done with my declaration, FJ starts shaking his head. “We are not yours to protect, Varra,” he protests out loud.
And I cup his stubborn jaw, now covered in stubble at the end of such a long day. “Yes, you are. I am yours and you two are—how do you say mine in Old Norse?”
For the first time since his appearance in Michigan, a familiar smile crosses FJ’s lips and I finally see a glimpse of the shifter I left sleeping in Alaska. “To us, Old Norse is simply Norse, Varra. Should I call what you speak, New English?”
“Just tell me how to say it, man,” I reply, all Detroit.
“There are many ways to say this in our tongue. But when my father speaks of our mother beyond our village, does he use the word eigaminn.”
“Eigaminn,” I repeat, liking the sound. Then I push into both of their heads. “You both are eigaminn. Mine always. And you can tell me not to do a lot of things, but wanting to keep you both safe isn’t one of them. I love you too much to ever stop wanting to protect you, too, so don’t try to stop me.”
I reach up to cup Olafr’s cheek from behind and look into FJ’s eyes as I say this. Begging them to believe in me, like I now believe in them.
“Varra…” they both say at the same time, over two separate mate bonds. It feels like their voices are coming at me in stereo.
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FJ grabs me first, crushing me to his blood-spattered chest as his head dips down to kiss me. Then Olafr’s thick erection digs into my back as he kisses my neck, my shoulders, finding all sorts of desire triggering places I wasn’t even aware I had.
Soon I’m little more than liquid heat inside their arms, unable to distinguish who’s kissing me where until FJ picks me up and carries me over to the bed like I weigh nothing more than a baby.
“Brother, it is time,” I hear him say to Olafr inside our heads.
And I smile as he sets me down on my bed, because FJ drops the last barrier left standing between all of us. Once again, our threeway connection is on like Tron.
I watch them prove modern zippers and buttons ain’t nothing but a thing when it comes to two Vikings ready to get their groove on. They’re both naked in a couple blinks of my eyes.
However, they leave me in my white dress. Rough hands turn me over, and the next thing I know, I’m on top of Olafr. His hands hiking up the bottom of my dress as he lifts my hips and brings them slowly down over his cock.
I watch his straining erection part my folds, wondering as I always do how it can possibly fit. But somehow it does, as he fills me up inch by inch.
Somewhere in my periphery I see FJ, still at the side of the bed, stroking himself as he watches Olafr impale me.
“I would have you fuck her now, Brother,” FJ says inside our heads. “Give me what I shall need to make her truly ours.”
What does he mean about truly making me theirs? I’m already theirs. Does he still not believe me—?
My thoughts cut off when Olafr, seemingly all too happy to obey FJ’s mysterious order, starts pumping into me with long, languid strokes, delivered so slowly, every one feels like a luxurious boat ride on his thick cock. My body soon becomes tight with a building orgasm and Olafr must be getting there, too, because he pulls me on to his chest, bending his legs and opening me even wider to receive him.