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Story: Beak Performance

Max

Watching my needy little princess’ face fall when I told him I wouldn’t fuck him tonight was all the proof I needed.

He’s as far gone for you as you are for him.

“I’ll stay the night, though, if you want me to. I’ve been dreaming of falling asleep with you for weeks.”

Arne’s face flushed, and I had a visual of how he might look freshly fucked. “You did?”

“Every night, with my hand on my dick and my bed cold and empty.” I nuzzled my nose into his cheek. “Thank you, Princess.”

“I’ll have a quick shower…” His voice trailed off.

“Want me to join you?”

“Yeah.” He grinned and pulled my head down so he could reach my mouth.

For as long as I lived, Arne sucking me off kneeling in the shower was a memory I would never forget.

Every water drop that clung to his lashes, every rivulet that ran down his hairy chest and his bulging pecs and hard nipples, every flex of his muscles as he moved on my length, every fucking moan echoing in the steamy air… they were imprinted on my heart.

Back in his bedroom, he opened a drawer on his dresser, glancing over his shoulder to look at me.

“Do you need something to wear tonight, Yndling?”

“A shirt would be great, thanks. What’s ‘yndling’?”

Arne scrunched his nose and winked. “It’s…uh…‘favourite’ in Danish. Don’t tell the others,” he added in a whisper.

He has a pet name for me? God, he’s the cutest.

“Not a word.” I zipped up my mouth but was way past the point of trying to keep my face in check.

Arne didn’t return my grin but leaned in and pecked the side of my neck. “You’re okay?” He asked again, his mouth moving against my skin.

“If you ask me again, I’ll let the Nachtkrapp out or turn into a raven.”

“Not complaining. You turning into this powerful creature is quite the turn-on. An actual raven, not so much, but…” Arne groaned softly, now licking down my throat.

Cursing under my breath, I tilted my head back to give him better access.

“I love the way you taste,” he murmured, running his nose down my chest and nuzzling the ridge between my pecs. I was weirdly proud of it. Even more so when he cupped me, plumping the muscle in his hand. “God, you’re so gorgeous. I’ve wanted to touch you for so long.”

“You did?”

“Yes,” he breathed, kneading my pec. “Ever since you kissed me in Scotland. I don’t know what you’re doing to me, Raven. My brain just gives out when I’m near you.” Arne huffed a little laugh that tickled the feathers at my chest. “Sorry, I have to make use of the fact that I can touch you.”

“Viking?”

“Yeah?” Those startlingly blue eyes met mine from between my pecs.

“You can always touch me.”

With a soft gasp, he pushed up to his fists, looking down at me. Then my huge, strong Viking urged me back to the bed. As soon as I laid down, he straddled my hips. Uttering a little whimpering sob, Arne kissed me hard.

“That’s it. Take what you need from me. You can have anything you want.”

“Don’t say that.” His beard scratched the soft skin on my jaw as he sucked and licked me there. “I might just take you up on it.”