Page 24

“Yes, Sir.”

Something shifted in his expression—a primal hunger barely leashed. He moved suddenly, capturing both my wrists in one large hand and pinning them above my head. The position arched my back, offering my breasts to him. His other hand slid down my body, between my thighs, finding me already wet and ready.

"My good girl," he praised, circling my most sensitive spot with maddening precision.

The dual sensation of restraint and pleasure made me gasp. My hips bucked involuntarily, trying to increase the pressure of his touch. Thor's grip on my wrists tightened in warning.

"Patience, princess," he growled, his fingers slowing to a torturous pace. "Daddy decides when you get what you need."

The words sent liquid heat pooling between my thighs. I moaned, straining against his hold without really wanting to break free. There was safety in this surrender, freedom in giving up control to the one person I trusted completely.

Thor watched my face as he touched me, reading my reactions, learning what made me gasp and what made me whimper. His fingers were deft, finding rhythms and pressure points that had me trembling beneath him in minutes. Each time I approached the edge, he would slow or change tactics, keeping me suspended in exquisite frustration.

"Please," I begged, writhing beneath him. "Thor, please."

He bent to take my nipple in his mouth, teeth grazing the sensitive peak before soothing it with his tongue. The sensation, combined with his fingers between my thighs, wrenched a cry from my throat.

"That's it," he murmured against my breast. "Let me hear you, princess. No holding back. Not here. Not with me."

The permission to be vocal freed something inside me. My next moan was louder, more abandoned. Thor rewarded me by increasing the pressure of his touch, drawing tight circles that had me arching off the blankets.

"That's my girl," he praised, his voice rough with his own need. "So fucking beautiful like this."

I pulled against his grip on my wrists, not to free myself but to feel the restraint. Thor understood immediately, tightening his hold to the point of delicious pressure—not enough to hurt, just enough to remind me who was in control.

The pendant of my collar tapped against my throat with each panting breath, a rhythmic reminder of belonging. I was his to pleasure, his to protect, his to push to the very edge of what I could take. And he was mine —his strength for my use, his control for my surrender.

Thor shifted his weight, his broad chest pressing me deeper into the blankets as he captured my mouth in another searing kiss. His tongue mimicked the rhythm of his fingers, claiming me from both ends. I was drowning in sensation, overwhelmed and desperate for more.

"Thor," I gasped when he released my mouth. "I need—"

"I know exactly what you need," he interrupted, voice commanding. "And I'll give it to you. But not yet."

His fingers withdrew, leaving me empty and aching. Before I could protest, he was moving down my body, trailing open-mouthed kisses across my stomach, over my hipbones. He released my wrists, using both hands to spread my thighs wider.

"Hold onto the pillow," he ordered, looking up at me from between my legs. "Don't move your hands until I say."

I clutched the pillow behind my head, my knuckles white with the effort of obeying as Thor lowered his mouth to my center. The first touch of his tongue nearly undid me. My hips bucked involuntarily, but Thor's strong hands held me in place, forcing me to take the pleasure exactly as he offered it.

The contrast was exhilarating – the soft sanctuary room with its fairy lights and stuffed animal witnesses, and this primal, raw pleasure. I was caught between worlds again, but this time not torn apart by them. The emerald ribbon around my throat united them, giving me permission to be everything at once – professional and Little, strong and vulnerable, commanding and submissive.

Thor worked me with devastating skill, reading my body's responses to bring me repeatedly to the edge without letting me fall. Each time I approached climax, he would slow or pull away, leaving me trembling and pleading. The control he demonstrated was absolute – over himself, over my pleasure, over the pace of our encounter.

"Please," I begged, beyond pride or restraint now. "Please, Daddy. I need to come."

He looked up at me, his beard glistening, eyes dark with hunger. "Not yet, princess. Not until you're desperate for it."

"I am desperate," I gasped, my voice breaking. "Thor, please. I can't take anymore."

He crawled back up my body, his boxers somehow gone, his hardness pressing against my thigh. I hadn't even noticed him removing them – so focused was I on the pleasure he was giving me. He captured my face between his hands, forcing me to meet his gaze.

"You can take exactly what I give you," he said, his voice firm but loving. "Because you're stronger than you know. Because you trust me to push you just far enough."

The words penetrated the fog of desire, touching something deeper. He was right. I did trust him—with my body, with my pleasure, with the different sides of myself I'd kept compartmentalized for so long. The collar around my throat wasn't a symbol of limitation but of that trust, that freedom.

Thor's hand slid between us again, fingers finding my most sensitive spot. "Tell me who you belong to," he demanded, circling with precise pressure that had me arching beneath him.

"You," I gasped. "I belong to you, Thor."

His fingers increased their pace, building me toward release with expert precision. I clutched at his shoulders, nails digging into the tattooed skin, holding on as the pleasure mounted to almost unbearable heights.

"That's it," Thor encouraged, watching my face with fierce concentration. "Let go for me, princess. I've got you."

I was balancing on the knife's edge of climax, so close I could taste it. Thor bent to my ear, his voice a rough command. "Come for me now."

The permission was all I needed. Pleasure crashed through me in waves, each one more intense than the last. I cried out, my body arching off the blankets, held in place only by Thor's weight above me. The orgasm seemed to go on forever, Thor's fingers expertly prolonging it until I was gasping, oversensitive, tears leaking from the corners of my eyes.

As I slowly came back to myself, trembling with aftershocks, I realized Thor was whispering praise against my skin – telling me how perfect I was, how beautiful, how proud he was of my surrender. The words washed over me, as soothing as his gentle touches.

"Thor," I managed finally, my voice hoarse.

He raised his head, looking at me with such tenderness that my chest ached. "Right here, princess. Always right here."

I reached for him, suddenly desperate to feel him inside me, to complete our connection. "Please," I whispered. "I need every inch of you."

Thor moved above me with careful precision, positioning himself between my thighs. His muscles tensed with restraint, biceps bulging as he held himself over me. I reached up to trace the lines of the world tree tattooed across his chest, following its branches with my fingertips. The masculine beauty of him stole my breath—golden hair falling around his face, blue eyes dark with desire, his expression fierce with concentration as he lined himself up against me. The pendant at my throat caught the amber light as I shifted beneath him, my body aching for completion.

"I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he growled, and then, before I had chance to reply, he pushed into me, watching my face intently, eyes smoldering with lust.

"Fuck, Mandy," he groaned, his forehead dropping to rest against mine. "You feel incredible."

I wrapped my legs around his waist, using my heels against his lower back to pull him impossibly deeper. The movement made both of us gasp. The emerald collar shifted against my throat, the pendant sliding to rest in the hollow between my collarbones, catching the light as I moved beneath him.

I was hyperaware of every sensation—the weight of Thor above me, the stretch of him inside me, the soft blankets beneath my back, the gentle pressure of the ribbon around my throat. Each point of contact felt electric, heightened by the emotional intensity between us.

Thor began to move, establishing a rhythm that started gentle but gradually built in intensity. His gaze never left mine – this connection was as much about seeing and being seen as it was about physical pleasure. In his eyes, I saw everything: desire, tenderness, fierce protectiveness, and something deeper that made my chest ache.

"Beautiful," he murmured, one hand coming up to trace the line of the collar, then down to cup my breast. "My perfect girl."

The praise washed over me like warm honey, making my body tingle with pleasure and relief. I felt myself climbing toward release again, my body tightening around him. Thor noticed—he always noticed everything about me—and deliberately slowed his pace, drawing out each thrust until I whimpered with frustration.

"Thor, please," I begged, my nails digging into his shoulders.

A slow smile spread across his face, dangerous and tender all at once. "Patience, princess. I want to remember every second of this."

Thor's hand moved between our bodies, finding my most sensitive spot with unerring accuracy. The dual stimulation made me cry out, arching beneath him.

"That's it, princess," he encouraged, circling with devastating precision. "Let me feel you come around me."

My release was building faster now, a tidal wave I couldn't stop even if I wanted to. Thor's thrusts grew more insistent, his own control clearly slipping as his breathing roughened. His movements became more urgent, more primal, the force of his desire no longer completely leashed.

"Let go for me, princess," he commanded, his voice dropping to that register that bypassed my brain and spoke directly to my body. "I've got you. Always got you."

The permission broke something loose inside me. My climax crashed through me with unprecedented intensity, waves of pleasure radiating outward from where we were joined. My entire body convulsed with it, back arching, thighs tightening around his waist.

"Thor!" I cried out.

My release triggered his own. With a guttural sound that was half growl, half my name, Thor drove deep one final time. I felt his body pulse within mine, his powerful frame shuddering as he found his completion. His arms trembled with the effort of holding himself above me, not crushing me with his weight even in this most vulnerable moment.

For several heartbeats, neither of us moved. We remained connected, foreheads pressed together, breathing synchronized, hearts pounding against each other. I could feel Thor's heartbeat where our chests pressed together, gradually slowing from racing to steady. The pendant of my collar tapped gently against my throat with each breath.

Eventually, Thor shifted his weight to the side, careful not to crush me as he pulled me against his chest. His arms encircled me, one hand playing idly with my copper hair spread across the pillows. I felt boneless, utterly spent, my body still humming with aftershocks of pleasure.

"I love all of you," Thor whispered into my hair, his voice quiet but firm with conviction. "Every part."

The simple declaration unlocked something final inside me – a knot of tension I hadn't even realized I was carrying.

"I love you too," I whispered back, the words feeling insufficient for the depth of what I felt.

Thor's arms tightened around me briefly. One large hand came up to cup my cheek, turning my face so he could kiss me softly, a benediction rather than a claiming.

The fairy lights twinkled above us, casting star patterns across our entwined bodies. Outside, the wind whispered through the pines, a gentle soundtrack to our shared breaths. The stuffed animals watched from their shelves, silent witnesses to this merging of worlds. On the table, the champagne remained unopened, the strawberries untouched—there would be time for those later.

For now, it was enough to lie in Thor's arms, wearing his collar, neither fully Little nor completely adult, but something new—something whole. In this sanctuary they'd created together, Mandy felt accepted at last—professional and Little, vulnerable and strong, completely herself and utterly his.

As sleep began to claim me, I found myself unconsciously touching the silver pendant at my throat. It felt right there, like it had always been meant to rest against my skin. The last thing I registered before drifting off was Thor's heartbeat beneath my ear—steady, strong, and constant. Like him. Like us.