Gunnar reached for her, grasped a handful of her wet hair in his fist but did not pull. He merely held her there, her face perfectly positioned for him to fuck should he choose to take control. Gunnar saw no immediate need for that. Instead he allowed her to continue her game, hissing as she took more of his length, then more still. She angled her head to use the pocket of her inner cheek, and he permitted this. In time, she would let him have her throat, but for now, her ministrations were bliss enough.
He sat upright again and watched her through heavily lidded eyes. She was beautiful, this fiery-haired Celt he had become obsessed with and taken first as his slave, then his wife. He had been right, she was perfect and never more so than when her lush lips were stretched tight around his cock. Her cheeks worked, her throat rippled. He watched as she drew in a breath through her nose, and his balls twisted painfully. It would not be long.
"I will spend in your mouth and you shall swallow it. All of it." He lifted one brow as though to ask if this plan was quite to her liking, though in truth he was ready to insist.
There was no need. She nodded, just a little, but enough to leave him in no doubt. He sank his other hand into her hair and now he did twist the flaming locks between his fingers. Her eyes widened. He knew he was hurting her, but equally he wasaware that she did not want him to stop. One small hand cupped his aching balls, the other rested on the top of his thigh and squeezed his taut flesh. She caressed his balls and dipped her head a fraction more, took as much of him as she possibly could and she sucked hard.
His release exploded from deep within his aching nuts. Semen rushed to fill the hot cavern of her mouth and he saw her throat work hard to clear it. There was more, spurt after spurt gushed forth and still she fought to swallow all of it, as he had instructed. A trickle of the pale, milky liquid escaped from the corner of her mouth and he reached to catch it on the tip of his middle finger. All the while Mairead maintained eye contact with him and lapped at his turgid, demanding cock.
Only when the final tremors of his climax had passed did he loosen his remaining hold on her hair. He relaxed and settled back again, though he continued to watch her as she sat back on her heels. His cock bobbed free again and she managed a tremulous smile.
"You lost a bit." He offered her his finger to lick, the stray droplets still balanced there.
Mairead wrapped her tongue around his digit and cleaned it thoroughly. He stroked her cheek, then her hair and knew he had the most ridiculous smirk on his face but it did not matter. "I love you," he murmured.
"I love you too, my husband," came the reply.
Now he smiled in earnest. "In that case, there only remains the matter of your earlier ridiculous outburst and your utterly regrettable lapse in judgement."
"You mean to take a switch to me." Her features betrayed her apprehension, but Gunnar was never a man to shy from administering discipline when required.
"Ah, you thought to distract me with your delightful mouth? Alas, it has not worked though I do thank you for your efforts,my sweet. I have no switch to hand but I shall treat you to a spanking, and believe me when I tell you, you will not sit easily for a week. Then I shall fuck you. I consider it best."
"As you say, Jarl. Should I...?" She glanced about, as though seeking a suitable location for her spanking. She need not bother.
"You should clamber up here and lie across my lap, wench. Be quick about it."
"But, it is cold, out of the water..."
He flexed his shoulders, now quite dry since he had been out of the warming confines of the pool for some time. "You will become accustomed to it, though I grant you it is all the more reason not to delay. Do you require my assistance?"
"I believe I can manage." She poked with her toes at the floor of the pool until she found a solid footing, then stood up with care. She stepped forward, leaning on his shoulder for balance and lifted her foot up onto the ledge beside her.
Gunnar almost missed it. The subtle, barely perceptible gesture very nearly escaped him. Mairead slipped, lost her balance momentarily before he grabbed at her waist to steady her. She tightened her grip on his shoulder, and brought her other hand to her abdomen where she spread her fingers protectively over her flat stomach. He helped her from the pool, then held his silence as she draped her slim body over his thighs. He took a few moments to admire the plump curves of her bottom, then laid his hand on the fleshiest part.
"When were you intending to tell me?"
"Tell you?" She twisted her body around to look up at him. "Tell you what?"
"When were you going to tell me about the baby?"
Her face paled. "How did you know?"
"I am the one asking questions. You, my sweet, are the one tipped up ready for a hard spanking. So, when?" He dropped a gentle slap onto her upturned buttock by way of encouragement.
"Soon. I... I only became sure myself a day or so ago. It is very early..."
"Is it too early? After Tyra?"
"I do not believe so. I am well, and strong. And, if it has happened, then..."
"Quite. So, I shall need to extend my longhouse at this rate."
"I am sorry, my husband. Perhaps it would have been preferable to delay, but?—"
"But that is not in your control, Nor mine, really. The gods have a way of determining these things, we mortals must accept our fate."
"I... I suppose so."
