Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 125077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Sven seized my pussy then, his huge hand engulfing my most intimate flesh with possessive mastery. The sudden, complete claiming of my core—coupled with the continued assault on my bottom and the rhythmic invasion of my mouth—sent me hurtling toward the edge of consciousness. My body trembled on the precipice of the most intense orgasm I’d ever experienced, every nerve ending alight with sensation.
“Come for me,” Sven commanded, his voice brooking no disobedience. “Come now, lille en.”
The climax crashed through me with the force of a tidal wave, obliterating all conscious thought. I came so hard that the world seemed to shatter around me, fragmenting into countless shards of sensation and meaning. My pussy clenched rhythmically against Sven’s commanding grip, my body convulsing with pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.
And I found myself instantly in the branches of Yggdrasil.
The cosmic tree unfurled before my inner vision, its massive trunk anchoring the nine worlds, its branches extending infinitely in all directions. Time lost its meaning.
Distantly, I felt Marmareus pull his cock from my mouth, and lift it so that he could present his balls for my shameful attention. As I traveled the boughs of Yggdrasil, I realized I had started to kiss the Guardsman’s scrotum tenderly, respectfully, even lovingly.
Because I could see the branch I must travel, along which I must bring them all. It began with making Marmareus’ balls feel good, and then…
I would belong to both of them—Sven first, but Marmareus also. Matthew. I knew his real name, suddenly, because that was there on the branch as well: Matthew Apollis, Leo Marmareus. Had I heard someone whisper it? Was it somehow the only name that made sense for him? Or did I, as a völva, truly have some supernatural ability?
It didn’t matter: I must make Matthew want me, and I must make certain that when I disclosed the existence of the virus, I did it with the correct words, for the wrong words would kill us all.
To my right, a few feet away, I heard the pitch of Camille’s moans rise, their volume growing too; my sister would come soon, just as I was still coming. Even as I continued to kiss Matthew’s balls with reverent attention, I heard Camille cry out, her voice echoing through the cavernous chamber.
“Paris…” she gasped, the single word laden with portent.
My heart lurched painfully against my ribs. How had she known? I’d never told her about the virus, about what I’d overheard in Beaumont’s study. Yet somehow, her völva insight had pierced the veil, had uncovered the secret I’d been desperate to share with Sven.
Marmareus pulled his scrotum away from my mouth abruptly, his dark eyes narrowing with sudden interest as they fixed on Camille’s trembling form.
“Yes, Camille?” he asked, his voice deceptively casual despite the tension I could see coiling in his powerful frame. “What about Paris?”
Time seemed to slow, to stretch like honey in sunlight. I remained suspended between worlds—my physical body impaled on Sven’s massive cock, my consciousness soaring through the branches of the cosmic tree. Along one branch, I saw with perfect clarity what would happen if I spoke the truth too plainly: Matthew, raising the gun with fluid grace, putting bullets through Sven’s and Erik’s heads before either could react. The vision was so vivid I could smell the acrid scent of gunpowder, could see the spray of blood against the stone wall behind them.
But along another branch… yes, there it was. The path we needed to follow, glowing with potential, with possibility. I saw myself speaking, saw the words form and take flight, saw them land with precision in the exact right place.
I started speaking, like a völva, straight out of the trance state created by my orgasm. My voice sounded strange to my own ears—deeper, resonant with ancient knowledge, with the power that flowed through the branches of Yggdrasil and into my trembling form.
“Herra… the Russian… Georgy… they put a virus in the Paris grid.”
The whole scene froze.
Sven’s cock remained buried deep in my ass, but his hips stilled, his hand still cupping my pussy possessively. Erik’s rhythm inside Camille faltered, then stopped altogether. Even the Nymphobi paused in their use of Cassandra and Viola, the tableau of debauchery momentarily suspended as my words hung in the air like smoke.
Matthew’s expression shifted minutely, his dark eyes calculating as they moved from my face to Sven’s, then back again. With deliberate calm, he pulled his handheld from the pocket of his robe. The sleek black device gleamed in the chamber’s ruddy light.
The Leo tapped the screen. He held the device to his ear.
“Did you get that?” he said. “Good… Yes, I think we have a new ally. Keep me posted.”
EPILOGUE
Mary
A week later I stood beside Camille, my bare feet warm on the polished stone floor of the vast underground cavern—just as they had felt in the New York Mithraeum, but now I knew why. The eternal flame blazed even here, above the Arctic Circle. The space was enormous—cathedral-like in its proportions, with a ceiling that soared at least a hundred feet above us. Deep though we were beneath the frozen tundra of the coast of Hudson Bay, the air felt pleasantly warm against my naked skin, the geothermal heat pumps working silently to maintain a comfortable temperature throughout the sprawling facility. The heavy coats we had worn aboard the ship, and then the helicopter that had brought us here, seemed a distant memory.