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Ivar was used to being surprised all his life. In battles, when the sweat and blood stood on his face - in the dark, when the pain in his legs got out of hand and completely paralyzed him. In fights between man and man, he saw it in the eyes of the men who had underestimated his strength - everything, everything in life had always been a positive or very negative surprise to him. Even his birth and his survival had been nothing more than the gods' hint to many people. A surprise.
The cripple was alive.
But nothing came close to the soft shock, the inevitable, quiet creeping of his excited veins, when Katya closed the door quietly behind them and stood in front of him, with long blond hair, as if he had been held up to the terribly painful mirror of the past.
She didn't look discouraged, and neither did she look angry when Ivar didn't say a word, just tightened his fingers on the chair he was sitting on and just stared at her with his mouth slightly open. His lips went dry, and he had to fight the sudden dryness in his eyes.
Goosebumps chased his body, held him tightly as she walked slowly and carefully towards him, her pretty eyes fixed on him; her fine fingers cuffed his right shoulder and Ivar swallowed. Swallowing against everything that was building up inside him, because he couldn't place these feelings. It was strange to see her like that - as if she had risen from her dull grave, as if the marks on her beautiful neck with which Ivar had killed her back then were gone.
"Maybe you finally believe me now," she uttered softly, and her fine hand wrapped around the strong bone of his shoulder. Ivar blinked again; he couldn't control his body properly anymore. He could feel his fingers cling so tightly around the edge of the chair that it hurt incredibly - but he couldn't help it. This woman triggered something deep, something unexpectedly wild in him. She always had, since he first had seen her so many years ago. She had always been the woman who had never felt afraid of him - like his mother. And even now she stood in front of him in her pretty perfection, as beautiful as on the first day, and touched him, so real and so lively.
"I don't know what you're doing here... and also not who you are," he said quietly; he could hear for himself how bad his voice sounded, a bit scratchy and nervous. Something was in the air, he could feel and taste it with every breath.
"Don't worry," she whispered softly and put on a beautiful smile. And then, without warning, she slowly sank down on her knees.
Her eyes lingered on Ivar like a predator as her slender fingers undid the buttons on his pants, and her lips parted softly. Full, beautiful lips, soaked in the most beautiful rosé.
Ivar swallowed and leaned his head back slightly. His hand reached roughly into her blonde hair with a jerk; they were soft, so damn soft under his rough fingers.
"Don’t," he uttered, but Katya didn't hear. Her fingers found their way all alone, as if guided by the gods, it seemed.
Ivar didn't know where to put all the feelings he was sensing in those moments. It tingled deep inside him, his nerves were bare and open, and he felt an incredible burning sensation inside that he had only rarely felt before. And he had anger, somewhere, under a soft sensation that kept suppressing the hatred as she looked at Ivar so caring: love.
Katya lowered her beautiful eyes to what Ivar had always cursed most about his body in his life: his cock. His worthless, boneless cock that had brought him nothing but pain in life, nothing but disappointment and anger and hatred of himself.
But just when Ivar wanted to throw her head up again and wanted to shove her away, her divinely soft lips closed deeply around his flesh with one flowing movement.
A gasp escaped him, a bitter and deep gasp; because something was wrong here. Instead of just feeling the uselessness of his flesh, he suddenly felt lust. Burning, devouring lust, and this lust increased immensely when Katya closed her soft mouth deeper and tighter around his cock, sucking it in deeply.
Ivar couldn't explain what was happening in the next few moments, and his head was too empty to find an answer either - but his cock hardened with the sweet pressure of her lips. He really got hard, swelled up in her mouth, and made Ivar let out another painful gasp; a gasp full of disbelief, coupled with a burning longing for her body.
Katya sucked his cock harder and Ivar let his head drop back slightly; he was in Valhalla, immersed in beautiful, incredible warmth. And the wonderful feeling stayed, at least until Katya took her lips from his cock with a soft moan. She licked his tip again briefly, licked her soft lips. Ivar looked down at her immediately, and her eyes had an incredibly powerful fire in them when she said softly: "You can do it, my dear Ivar."
Oh Odin, what are you doing with me... Ivar thought, and he opened his mouth slightly when Katya got up and pulled up her dress. A slight gasp escaped her as she sat down on his lap with a sweeping movement: her hand grasped his hard cock, and Ivar gasped hard, stared at Katya in pure disbelief, stared just into her beautiful face as she let slid his cock into her pussy.
She was so wet, so damn wet, because of him. Ivar shot such a violent wave of pleasure and sensation through the body, so immense that it took all of his breath away. He could feel so exactly how her wet pussy sank slowly and wet over his cock, completely consumed him, immersed him in such infinite beautiful and tight warmth. When she began to move, Ivar could no longer suppress a coarse moan; even if his body was still paralyzed, his lips wide open in disbelief.
But she fucked him. She really fucked him. Ivar’s hands suddenly clutched into her hips in one rough movement, and he let out another deep moan as she continued to move relentlessly and wildly on him. The play of her wet pussy on his cock was the best and most wonderful thing Ivar had ever felt - it was his fucking first time ever.
His fingers dug hard into the sides of her dress and he pressed his head to her neck, inhaling the scent of her skin; the wonderful feeling in his body grew steadily with every movement of her soft and wet pussy on him. Oh Odin, how he loved the friction, the feeling of being deep inside her and being responsible for making her reach an orgasm on his crippled lap. That his cock was so deep inside her and making her tremble.
Another groan and Ivar bit her neck; his feelings rose. When he felt a soft twitch in her pussy and she threw her head back, he could no longer defend himself against his own body violence, and he came, he came as suddenly as his cock had hardened under her.
His orgasm shook every nerve inside him; he lost control of his legs, of his upper body, which was firmly gripping her and hugging her; all he felt were endless waves of orgasm and the sharp twitches of his cock that emptied deep inside Katya. Katya came shortly after him; it was amazing. She rode him hard on, riding every wave of her twitching pussy until Ivar roughly embraced her and kissed her harder than he'd ever kissed her before. He gave everything to push his last thrusts deep into her, to tease her damp tightness even further, until her fine fingers buried firmly in his neck. Her soft moan rang in his ear and he did not let go of her for a long time; not even when his cock slackened slightly inside her.
That night, she stayed with him and she sat on his body one more time and rode him until he came. Only this time it was far more passionate, because Ivar was no longer shocked or scared, or had disbelief on his face. No, this time he moved his hips as best he could, enjoying every single second that her breasts bobbed in front of his face and that his cock was buried deep inside her, making her moan.
He loved it so much, so damn much, that he was sure this was exactly what he had always been missing in life.
She sucked his fingers with relish, deep and with a soft moan, as he spilled inside her and moaned as loudly as he dared.
When they reached Norwong's hall, he turned around to her; and although she wore her hair brown again, she still wore the soft expression on her face, the little snub nose he loved so much. And her eyes met his, and he took a step toward her, steady with his crutch.
"I love you, no matter who you are," he said quietly.
