Addictive Rimeshade (14 page)

Chapter 13

The powers rose,

the Alfs’ illuminator

northwards before Niflheimr

chased the night.

Up Argjöll ran

Ulfrun's son,

the mighty hornblower,

of heaven's heights

~ Hrafnagaldr Óðins

Leug:

Climbing into bed with her, I'm grateful to be back in
Niflheimr.

It would have bored her to learn that it's the original name for hel, the place. The domain of those spirits without bodies, the ones who didn't die in battle for Odin, the dump of the surplus because he only collects warriors. He doesn't want the rest of the dead as they serve no purpose for him.

Niflheimr
is a place of mist, ice, and darkness. Or as the human prophet Isaiah once wrote of it,
that mountain in the north where the gods assemble
.
It is the most northern aspect of this place, where winter has no sun. Skadi's home. She was born in these mountains, and she loved the snow as much as I loved the way her hair seemed spun from it.
Niflheimr,
in the new language, would be considered the home of the Nephilim. The giant gods, Odin's halfbreeds and their offspring. The beautiful, the rulers, the makers and breakers.

It is the primordial mist world of fog and ice, and that's why hel is white. It reflects the glory of the forefathers, this is their original domain. Now it's the outer edge of the Sami region, they being the tribe who still live like Skadi did before she went to Asgard and confronted the murderer of her father. So Odin took
Thazi's eyes, threw them into the sky, and made them stars to shine down on her. Skadi accepted it, because she loves the dark and the light. Odin knew her heart. He knew she'd never forget such a gesture, it resonated with her.

Sliding my hand up Lara's thigh, I tug her close, curling over her, sinking my fangs into her neck, injecting my stain into her blood, readying my mate for carnal recreation. Tasting her mind, infusing our souls, I call the fire to her skin, summoning it to ignite the blaze now simmering inside her subconscious, the effulgence visible, detectable, delectable.

Reverence hazes my purpose for a moment when her holiness coats my tongue.

Unprepared for how fast she wakes, the grip in my hair, yanking me over her shoulder, forcing me to relinquish my bite in her skin, I have no choice but to roll with her dominion or crush her under my weight.

“Lara,” I warn, my voice coming out as a chaffing growl, consumed already with the melody of passion.

Maneuvering with me, her hands grip my wrists, showing
Æsir strength already blossoming within her when she pulls it off successfully, holding me down, a wicked smile playing her sensual mouth. Her graceful neck arches when she grinds her pelvic bone over my groin, laughing breathlessly, “You're just in time. I was dreaming about you.”

So tonight she wants to mark me, she wants the chase, the conquer, the submission, the sated safety of ownership. You got it girlie.

Summoning my hibernating strength, I sit up with her on me, slamming her flat onto the spread of bed behind her, resting heavily on her, cording muscles and extruding veins to pin her, savagely biting her lip, writhing my erection into the gap where my hips keep her legs open in female welcome.

She laughs into my mouth, gasping, “Don't stop, you know I love the way you rub me hard only to deny me closure.”

Bitch. My bitch.

Gripping her hair, I move fast, slipping a hand under her and flicking her over, shunting her hips up, forcing her onto her knees, biting as hard as Fenrir would into her neck, pegging her to the linen face first, averted for breath, but harnessing her body in an unforgiving lock, ripping her lace panties off with a claw prick, then sliding the finger deep into her, teasing, “You're soft and swollen. It must have been a perverted dream.”

She exhales savagely, trying to bite my wrist where my free hand rests for balance, my legs and our position keeping her contrived and compliant.

Reaching out she clamps her hand around my wrist, sinking short nails in, gouging the skin up my forearm, drawing blood.

Laughing gleefully, I retaliate, withdrawing the finger and slamming my penis inside her, shunting her so hard she loses her hold on me. Slamming violently, the glory inside her dripping over and into me like the sacrament of the soul, I lose my peripheral vision, the light within her rising up in effervescent carbonation, the frenzy within her letting me visually see the lust she hides so well.

Pumping, I punch her across the bed with every thrust, abandoning my restraint before her head lolls off the edge, both of us losing our balance and tumbling to the floor while I'm orgasming, my breath harsh and fast, my blood flooding muscle with such ferocity I feel like I've lifted a mountain, my muscles so tight, everywhere.

Fleeing, she pounces away, fiercely staring at me with impudence, “If you won't be a gentleman then I'll do it myself.”

Challenge accepted, I'm pushing up to tackle her when she bends over me and decks me a mother punch to the cheek, snarling, “Wait your turn!”

The she-wolf is in the house. My v
argynja
.

Giggling, pleased with herself, she seductively pulls the cotton over her head, pitching the vest at me, sitting in front of me on my own bed, widening her legs to the point of obscene, plugging that silken channel with three of her elegant fingers, using the other hand to agitate her clit. I can't help but watch, staring at it, instantly so hard it hurts.

Lying back so all I can see are thighs smooth and pale as Grecian marble, I voyeur on her masturbation, titillated by the noises she's gasping. Holding the perfumed vest over my nose, I inhale her sweet light, the very core color of her, watching and waiting, biding my time.

Her fingers rub in a frenetic arc, the arch of her spine alerting me to her impending climax. Dropping the cotton I launch, snatching her hands away, gripping the wrists so tight I know the blood flow has ceased, covering her sex with my mouth, flicking with my tongue, locking wrists together with one hand to free me into using three of my own fingers. The girth of my hand instead of hers elicits a shaky squeal, a low moan emanating as if she is creating an entirely new universe on the ether. Agitating the hard nub under my tongue, I continue plunging sensuously in and out of her, bending my fingers slightly to make contact with her O spot.

She doesn't scream, she gives short bursts of serrated breath, aching gasps with a hint of voice when she squirts into my mouth, coating my tongue with the velvet of primordial purification, burning my taste-buds with the potency of her godlight imbued in her orgasm. She glows deep within, I can see it from this angle.

She is so curious, so unique, so extremely rare.

Lara whimpers, groaning, “Let go.”

Suddenly remembering the wrists clamped in my hand, I instantly release them, contrite.

The union of my assault is successful, her now free hands reaching down to stroke my scalp in masseuse caresses.

Kneeing me in the eye, she flops forward, into my lap, straddling me, sliding back onto me, vacuuming me back into that slick haven where muscles writhe against my erection, enticing it back to granite rigidity.

This time she hooks fingers in my hair, and belatedly I realize I must have reverted to my original hair and eyes when I climbed into bed. My blonde hair is longer than when I withhold my true form, maintaining the image of it brown. My hair is as fair as hers, both of us being Rime
gods. The venom in Odin's pen. We wear the cloak of Ymir's poison.

Biting my lip, sucking my tongue into her mouth, she rides me, chaffing hard nipples against my chest.

There are times in a man's life when he has to admit he's conquered by a lady. I have no desire to fight her, to hurt her. All I want is to lay her down and make the sweetest slowest excruciating love to her, feeling her glorified magma burn my heart out, charring my soul so my ashes can be powdered to dress her skin when she feels naked and vulnerable.

I'd die for you, you're the only one I've ever wanted to be able to die, for. I would strip off my skin to make you a carpet so you never have to get your feet dirty, I want to wash your eyes with the light of forever, so you are never lost, so you can see and experience everything your heart desires, I would barter my bones to build you a bridge back to your father's realm, I would catch the constellations and fashion a new bifröst bridge for my sváss, so you can catch the wishes of the free and grant them their destiny.

I need to give you my love so you can keep it safe. I'll be your wolf another day, but this is not that day. Lifting her off me, I force her onto the bed, pointing a warning finger in her face, “This time you wait.”

Putting sufficient distance between us, I gut the candles so we're plunged into darkness, freeing a handful of fireflies to light the room in barely visible illumination.

*

Lara:

The softly lit room flares when he opens his palms and colorful beams roll off his fingers to scroll across the floor, to my feet. It's like looking down on the aurora borealis from space, seeing lanes and reasons in the laser-like scatterings, where rays of iridescence splash and roll, mingling and twining, creating spills of luminescent tones, the patterns becoming a polka dot mind fuck.

They glitter and pop, swirling in a dizzy array of ecstasy, pouring melted dreams in the language of angels, floating up and engulfing me in his psychedelic aura, giving me a celestial warp  because the vivid colors have scent, warmth, physicality.

Stroking, touching, humming across flesh, sizzling my nerves, tipping me inside out as if hooking me out of myself and through my senses, glazing my spirit to diaphanous and elated, the mysteries flirt me to the holy home of the perfect.

Flaunting mood and magic, the alchemy coalesces, cloying and blinding, luxurious rapture, infiltrating my skin, seeping in, washing me alive with the seraphic breath of theurgy.

I'm hanging off the bough of melting wind, the tree a wish blurred through the sea, throwing copper instead of throwing clay, leaving the world of sand to fall through the hourglass, decomposing ad-am, setting the little owl free to soar through the deathless acre.

Giddy and disoriented, floating inside a bauble of charm, I close my eyes, trusting when his essence falls through me, soldering our seams in a cloud of dreams, effulgence condensing, our radiance twirling into a long fine singular thread of fiery silver, streaming out like a jester's scare, the ribbon our promise, unravelling the fizz, resting care in a shell of shining cherish, spinning around us, cocooning me inside him, him inside me, on opposite ends of the room our spirits drift to become one light, one night, a lantern sepulcher, a refuge where in this hour the seconds are just snowflakes melting for eternity's kiss, running clear, rising to the roof to fall back down as pellets of icy hope.

Resting flat out on the bed, I close my eyes against the slowly descending snowflakes, gently whispering from the ether to touch and brand, bursting spiritual spikes through my body wherever they land, my vision morphing the brilliance of aurora and spirit to a misty illusion of opaque yearning.

My emotions crest and shake, detonating with the rime of time, the fairy touch intense enough to freeze my darkness. Acidic and sharp, the pain is welcome, a resource I often milk to fill the quill, the burrs nesting in my skin, netting me with the map of the silken era.

Curious, I struggle to sit up, to touch the strings of this human harp, the celestial tinkles shattering the mirror of my mind, forcing me to look down to see up, seeing the hand holding out to me Lucifer's cup.

Laughing at this supernatural harmony, I reach behind, knowing my world is in reverse and my perception is trying to trick me, taking hold of the cup, hanging upside down off the bed to drink it, so I can't spill a drop, the reverse of physics now my reality.

It's sweet and velvet, greener than spring, filling my sins and plugging my doubts with pearlpins. Leug leans over me, icicles hanging off his lashes, frost encrusted in his stubble, his eyes so perfectly tequila, bleached of color, shining like crystal balls holding galaxies, kissing me so long and hard that I fear our tongues are dry-ice frozen together.

Exhaling when he breaks the kiss, I laugh, becoming a fine drizzle, coming apart, fracturing into fog, my limbs lost to the shifting motion of an expanding heart, the blizzard of cosmic breath washing me in an eddy of weightless power.

No longer human, I hang as a cloud, moving incrementally closer to the lover who stands in a lake of crystal ice, my movement slow as continental drift, free, my cares forgotten when the walls disappear, becoming an endless vista of glacial quilts, the sun sprinkling blessings to glitter the fey drifts of hoar, burning the new dawn into my brume, calling me back to myself, too soon.

Sagging into the opulent linen, a warm breath courses my neck, mapping my pulse, soft lips trailing the elysian breeze.

Staring up at the recognizable ceiling of his bedroom cavern, I ask the overlord of the underworld, “What was that?”