The Trickster's Song (The Loki Series Book 3) by Samantha MacLeod

Author:Samantha MacLeod [MacLeod, Samantha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Loki, Fantasy Romance, Loki Norse Mythology, mythology, Norse Mythology
Publisher: Vestal Valley Press
Published: 2018-09-17T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Oh, fuck.

My eyes opened slowly, and the exposed beams of the ceiling above me pulsed and swirled in welcome. Fuck, I was drunk. Gloriously, gloriously drunk. And— I narrowed my eyes, shutting out the distracting way the room kept spinning. Yes.

Someone was sucking my cock.

Sucking it well.

Fuck. Yes. Someone was down there who knew just what I liked, and they were getting me off quite nicely. My hips rocked forward, filled with the pleasure of being drunk and a gathering tightness in my lower spine which meant I might actually come.

“Falur,” I moaned.

Damn, he’d gotten good at this. Why had I waited so long to get well and properly drunk with them? I grinned, picturing the way his eyes must be burning into mine, the curve of those soft lips around the head of my cock. Those lips—

But those lips were cold. Falur’s lips were cold, and seawater poured from them as I screamed and pounded on his chest.

Falur was gone.

My eyes flew open as my body stiffened. The lips pressed to my cock paused for a second, then resumed. Pleasure crept slowly through my body as my heart raced and the mead in my stomach shifted uncomfortably. Who the fuck—

“S-Sigyn?” I stammered.

“Try again.”

Shit. I knew that voice. I flinched, but my body didn’t respond. It was like my arms were made of stone. Stupid. Ah, fuck, I was stupid. Blinking, I rolled my head to the side, trying to force myself to concentrate.

Oh. Ropes. Silvery ropes bound my wrists, and they hummed with magic. It wasn’t— I blinked again and tried desperately to focus. It wasn’t complicated magic, but— My hips rose and rocked as hands joined lips, tightening around my cock.

“Fuck!” I yelled.

Grinding my teeth together, I forced myself to look down.

Angrboða lay between my legs, wearing a black dress that covered nothing. Her tits flashed as she rose, triumphant, my stiff cock clasped between her fingers.

“You crazy bitch!” I spat.

“Now, now, let’s save the pillow talk for your new wife,” she purred. “I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to hear she was only your second guess.”

Angrboða’s hand tightened and rolled, making my hips ripple beneath her before I could stop myself.

“What the f-fuck are you doing?” I demanded.

Angrboða’s painfully exquisite features composed themselves into the very picture of innocence. “Why, whatever do you mean?”

I flexed my arms, tugging the ropes tight. “You think I can’t get out of thish? It’s a f-fucking s-s-simple trap.”

Angrboða gave me a coy smile. “Darling. Of course you can escape. But right now you’re very drunk, you’re hard as a stone, and you’re about to come.”

Her fingers rubbed the head of my cock. A moan slipped from my lips before I could catch it. The room spun and wavered, and my balls tightened. Oh, fuck, no. I could not be this close to coming. Not for her.

“Why?” Damn, my voice sounded fucking terrible. Almost a whimper.

Angrboða rose before me like a black-clad demon. She threw one leg around my side, and her dress engulfed my hips.

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