Page 70 of The Magic of Vanaheim

“She could never hope to conduct such a powerful blessing herself,” Talvinen continued conversationally. “And she wants recognition for it.”

Helpless little moans escaped Håkon. Listening to Talvinen talk politics while he shoved his fingers up Håkon’s ass had no right to be this hot.

“Vanaheim’s harvests will be blessed this year. But I’m going to deny Svanhild any credit for it. Instead, my people shouldworship the earth you walk on because you are willing to go through this ceremony with me.”

“Stop talking like that or I won’t make it till the ritual.”

A delicious twist of Talvinen’s fingers made him whine.

“Don’t think you only have to come once tonight and be done,dróttning. So much pleasure awaits you,” Talvinen said gleefully but retreated his fingers.

Håkon groaned at the loss.

“Here, do you know what this is?” Talvinen asked.

An object entered Håkon’s line of vision. It consisted of a handle that could have belonged to a ceremonial dagger, but it ended in a polished wooden bulb instead of a blade. Talvinen coated the wooden end with oil as if he was preparing his own cock to—

“Your staff,” Håkon rasped, spreading his legs a little wider in an involuntary movement.

“Clever boy,” Talvinen chuckled. “And not your typicalvala’sstaff either. I created it for a special occasion, just like this one. The jewels will gleam so prettily against your skin.”

Norns, Talvinen had crafted this thing with him in mind, hadn’t he?

“Do you think you can take it?”

“Yes,” Håkon said, way too eager for his own liking, but he couldn’t help it.

“Then relax.”

First, he felt Talvinen’s grounding hand settle against his hip, and then his other parting Håkon’s cheeks. The nudge of the staff against his entrance. And then its slow slide in, in,in. Håkon was trembling by the time the staff was settled inside him. He felt like he could burst and climax on the spot if he so much as moved an inch.

“I—I don’t think I can walk like this,” he managed through gritted teeth. He wouldn’t come before the ritual had even begun. Hewouldn’t.

Talvinen chuckled, playfully nudging the staff a little further inside. Håkon groaned.

“So far gone already, I see. Let’s get started then, so your precious ecstasy doesn’t go to waste.”

Håkon allowed his husband to help him to his feet, but the standing position changed the staff’s angle, making Håkon nearly black out from the delightful pressure. His knees buckling under him, he desperately clung to Talvinen’s shoulders.

“Talvi—”

“I know. I’ve got you.”

Talvinen must’ve put his coat around Håkon to cover him and then picked him up, because the next thing Håkon knew, he lay panting and sweating in Talvinen’s arms as his husband carried him to the shore.

The sun had vanished behind the mountains, but the full moon hung in the sky. A strange twilight shrouded the fjord. The camp had gone quiet except for chanting voices carried toward them by the wind. But the beach in front of them was empty and white fog crept up from the sea, hiding parts of the fjord from view. Håkon opened his mouth to ask Talvinen what would happen next, but Talvinen shushed him before a sound could escape him.

Out of the billowing fog, Njord approached them with two others: Svanhild and another woman, tall and dark-haired, whom Håkon didn’t recognize. They were barefoot and near silent, and the whole scene would have Håkon on edge if Talvinen weren’t a steady reassurance, cradling him close to his chest.

Njord smiled at them but didn’t speak as Talvinen sat Håkon down on his feet and guided him by his shoulders to stand rightin front of him. Shuddering under the touch, Håkon noted with detached arousal how Talvinen slipped the cloak from Håkon’s shoulders. He must’ve taken a small step backwards then, because his back was suddenly pressed against Talvinen’s front.

“I’ve got you,dróttning,” Talvinen whispered into his ear and wrapped his arms around him, curling one hand possessively around Håkon’s straining cock.

Håkon twisted in Talvinen’s grip to hide his face against his husband’s shoulder. It was humiliating to know others could see him like this, but on the other hand, having somebody witness Talvinen’s desire for him had an appeal of its own.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched thevölurholding up a wooden bowl each, whispering incantations. They didn’t touch Håkon, drawing runes in the air instead, while Talvinen idly caressed his body. Håkon shuddered under his touch, and the chant of thevölurlulled his mind into a state of haziness. His eyes fluttered shut.

“Stay with me,dróttning,” Talvinen ordered, and Håkon’s world shrank down to his husband’s melodic voice and every point of contact between their bodies.