Read Online Fall Hard by J. L. Merrow - Free Book Online Page B

to stop running my hands over the design. Viggo’s buttocks clenched beneath my fingers, sending electric shocks through my hands, up my arms and right down to my balls. “Christ, I love that tattoo. And that arse.”
    “Even better when you’re inside it,” Viggo said with a leer over his shoulder. Then he nodded towards a shelf above and to the left of him. “Up there—condoms.”
    “Done this before, have you?” The thought of him seducing other men drove me mad with jealous lust.
    Or had it been me he’d been with?
    If so, what about Sven? Had I been unfaithful?
    “Maybe.”
    I couldn’t think about it now. I fumbled for a condom. My feverishly questing fingers located the foil packet, plus a tube of lube. I sheathed myself and lubed up as quickly as I could, getting the slippery stuff all over my fingers more by accident than design. Then I took a deep breath and grabbed Viggo’s arse in both hands.
    I kneaded the firm muscle, my thumbs brushing Viggo’s crack. He swore again and pressed his arse farther into my grasp. Pulling his cheeks apart—not easy with hands this slippery—I admired the way Yggdrasil’s taproot disappeared into that tempting hole. “God, you’re hot,” I told him, pressing with my thumb until he opened and let me in.
    He was tight, incredibly tight, so I took my time stretching him out, my breathing getting more and more ragged with every moan, every sigh. “Do it,” he begged at last, pressing back as if trying to impale himself on my eager cock. “ Ríddu mér. ”
    My spoken Icelandic wasn’t great, but I was pretty sure I grasped his meaning. I lined up, then grabbed his hips and pushed in. “God!” he yelled in English. I stilled immediately, afraid I’d hurt him. “No, don’t stop,” he panted.
    “Sure?”
    “Yes, yes. Just fuck me, already!”
    Reassured, I plunged into him up to the hilt. God, he felt good. Impossibly tight, the heat coming off him in waves so intense I wouldn’t have been surprised if the tree on his back had burst into flame. His head hung low between his braced arms, and Yggdrasil’s leaves seemed to rustle as his shoulders flexed. I could smell the damp earth of the forest, mixed in with the salt of our mingled sweat.
    I felt like a god, pounding into this strong, handsome Viking. Or maybe we were both gods, at play in the halls of Asgard. I pitied the poor mortals left behind in Midgard, never to know this heady ecstasy. The only sound was our grunts and the rhythmic slap of my balls against his arse. Knowing I couldn’t hold out much longer against this level of intensity, I reached around to take him in hand. Viggo’s cock was scalding hot and hard as the iron that forged Thor’s hammer. He cursed, a constant stream of Icelandic that I hoped was meant as encouragement because I was physically incapable of stopping now. He gave one last, strained shout—and clenched around me as his cock pulsed, spurting out long streams of come that splattered loudly against the metal wall.
    It was too much. I came too, my balls emptying themselves with such force I was half surprised the recoil didn’t knock me on my arse. Viggo collapsed against the wall with a metallic thud, and I sagged on top of him, my arms wrapped around his magnificent chest and my face pressed to Yggdrasil’s branches. Both our chests were heaving, our skin slippery with sweat.
    Viggo pushed himself, and me, away from the wall, and he twisted in my arms until we were chest-to-chest once more. He was laughing. “What?” I asked suspiciously.
    “You. You make love like a Viking.” He traced the line of my jaw with a gentle gesture at odds with his size and strength, and his grin faded.
    His sobered expression filled me with inexplicable unease. Had this meant more to him than it had to me? I wasn’t even sure what it had meant to me. “Had we… Were we lovers before? No—look at me.”
    His gaze, which had dropped away, came slowly to meet mine. His blue eyes