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Night of the Dragon
  • Текст добавлен: 20 сентября 2016, 15:04

Текст книги "Night of the Dragon"


Автор книги: Alexandra O'Hurley



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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 6 страниц)

Epilogue

Karli sat up, trying to squirm out from between the two sleeping solid nude male bodies that were holding her pinned to the bed.  She really didn’t want to get out of bed, but relieving her bladder was imperative.  Somehow she sneaked out of bed and into the adjoining bathroom without waking either of the hulks of male flesh.

Looking into the mirror at her body once she was done, she washed her hands and face, noticing the glow she had.  Happier than she could ever remember, she knew she had finally found a home here.  After meeting the other Berserkers in their group, she had enjoyed their conversation and had later sat around the dining table, the center of male attention.

Rayne had practically drug her upstairs after the meal was over, and if the artwork that graced the rooms and halls she had witnessed so far, she could spend days if not weeks checking out the entire house.  House?  Mansion was more like it; the place was larger than anything she had ever seen in her life.

Smiling at her reflection, she once again saw the marks the two left on her body during their lovemaking.  The swollen buds of her breasts, dark pink from their mouths and fingers.  The scratch of their beard growth along her jaw.  Her lips crimson and flushed from their kisses.  She loved how she looked.  Sated.  Cherished.

Lowering a hand to her belly, she wondered at some of the comments Ryden had made, alluding to the potential child that grew inside of her.  Her chest grew tight as she thought of herself swelling with their child, a symbol of their feelings for one another.

From the darkness of the room behind her reflection, she saw Ryden emerge.  Gathering her in his arms, they both looked at the vision they made, holding one another.

“We miss you in our bed.”

Ryden swiped his tongue along her neck, and Karli felt the heat of her sex swell.  She wondered if she would ever have enough of her men.

****

Freyja looked into the gilded mirror she had gazed into for millennia, fingers pulling at the slowly aging skin around her eyes and mouth.  The lines had begun to show in the past few months, the drying river of souls no longer strong enough to keep her youth and beauty at its peak.  Her fiery red locks had faded some, the sun’s rays no longer glistening through the mass of waves.  Her hair had been one of her prides.

Pale blue eyes were fading to gray, and the golden sheen of her skin had left.  Odin’s lack of generosity had stolen her youth, her power, and her vitality.  And his damned Berserkers were proving to be more trouble than they were worth.  She had few minions left, and now, the ace up her sleeve, her last dragon, was gone.

“You are still a sight, as beautiful as ever.”

Twisting in her seat, she saw the darkened form standing in the doorway to her private quarters.  “Odin, has anyone told you it is rude to barge into someone’s room unannounced?  Who let you in the front door?”

“As if anyone could stop me?”

His haughty laugh made ripples of disgust roll down her spine.  Or perhaps that was desire?  She always got those two confused when that God was around.

Odin stepped forth into the light, softly closing her doors before approaching.  “You are defeated yet again, Freyja.  After all these millennia, why can we not put a stop to this war?”

Freyja trembled as he completed his sentence with warm hands resting on her shoulders.  She watched the reflection of those strong hands in the glass as they began to stroke her, rubbing the tight muscles that bore the weight of so much power.  Drained power that she fought to keep.  She was so tired of the fight.

Giving in would be so easy.

His hands on her body felt so wonderful.

“I offer you once again to join our Halls.  Few praise the old gods anymore, and we have so few coming in our doors.  Together, we could be more.”  Odin continued to rub her shoulders, the relaxation sweeping over Freyja in waves.  “And I know you still want me.  I can see the lust in your eyes every time you see me.”

Pulling away from his touch, she glared at him via the mirror.  “Just because every trollop in Valhalla wants to spread her legs for you does not mean I choose to do so.”

Odin pulled her under her arm, lifting her from her seat and spinning her around until she was tightly in his embrace.  His lips found hers and his marauding kiss made her knees weaken and her thighs tremble.  Grasping ahold of his furred tunic, she returned the kiss, her tongue seeking the heat of his mouth.

Separating, Odin looked down, the lust shining in his blue eyes.  She felt the sting on her face from his golden goatee, scratching her fair skin in his roughness.  His hands still squeezed her hips roughly to him, and she felt the brand of his thick cock through the tunic he wore.

“I can smell you desire.  You want to spread your legs like the rest of them.”

Freyja’s hand whipped through the air and struck the side of Odin’s face with all the strength she could muster, the loud slap echoing through her chamber.  “Get out of my Hall.”

Odin stood before her, his hand rubbing the spot she had struck, a fire lighting his eyes.  “I gave you the chance to end all of this.”  Odin spread his hands out around him.  “And all you can do is fight when you should submit.”

“You asked me to join you.  You should have known I will never submit.”

“We shall see about that.”  With that Odin turned and strode from the room.

The End

 

www.alexandraohurley.com

 

 

Other Books by Alexandra O'Hurley:

 

The Lottery

Master of Mine

 

 

 

 

Evernight Publishing

www.evernightpublishing.com


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