We search through several wreckages and find nothing that interests my mates.
It’s all interesting to me. Every ship is a little different. There are strange items on some of them. I assume the junkers took everything of value, so I’m not sure what we’re looking for exactly, other than spare parts that could help repair our ship. I certainly can’t tell if any of this stuff is useful or not.
“Gjermund seems like he has taken an interest in a number of things,” Frode comments as we walk toward the next ship. “He’s becoming a jack-of-all-trades, like our father.”
“Yeah, if he’d spend more time focusing on that instead of partying with Orvar, I might be able to make something out of him.” Joar lights a cigar. “I’ve about given up on Orvar, but maybe he’ll grow up some now that we’ve found our mate.”
“It’s not your job to make something out of either of them, is it?” Frode questions.
“Maybe not,” Joar shrugs. “Now that you’re back, maybe you should take over. You’re the eldest. My wolf certainly knows it.”
“The three of you know a lot more about Midgard 13 than I do. I probably wouldn’t even recognize what Midgard 21 became after I left,” Frode sighs. “Just because I’m back doesn’t mean things have to change. Even if you were still a king, I wouldn’t challenge you for your crown.”
“Considering how fucked things were before we moved to Midgard 13, I would have probably handed it over without a fight.” Joar exhales some smoke from his cigar as he ponders it. “Crowns mean nothing now, but our wolves still thrive on instinct, just like they did when we traveled in packs.”
“Yes, I felt it too. Still do, to some degree,” Frode says. “But finding our mate has calmed my wolf. Not sure about yours.”
“For now,” Joar says, glancing back at me. “But I’m restless for more of you, mate. Just as soon as we get off this rock.”
I blush a little at his comment, but the hunger in his eyes makes me tremble. Joar was the roughest, but my second time with Frode wasn’t exactly gentle. Still, I can’t deny that a dark part of me craves more of their dominance. The thought of it makes my core heat up until I’m damp between the legs.
“Do we really have to wait that long?” I ask, nibbling my bottom lip.
“Sounds like you’re not the only one who is eager,” Frode chuckles, then he glances back toward the spot where we landed. “Orvar and Gjermund are busy. This seems like a wasted endeavor, but there’s no reason to rush back, is there?”
“I suppose we’re in no rush,” Joar agrees. “It’s not like the two of them are ever very considerate of my time, even when I need them for an urgent matter. I offered to help Gjermund with the ship, but he declined.”
“We’ll check a few more wreckages just to be safe,” Frode growls, looking at me. “Then you’re going to be ours.”
I get wetter thinking about it as I follow them onto one of the downed ships. Like the others, it’s mostly in ruins with nothing of interest to my mates. The next ship proves to be in a similar state. The junkers left the scraps, but they took everything of value, especially things that could be used to repair our ship.
“Last one I’m bothering with,” Frode claims as he steps into the next ship.
“Don’t even need to look around.” Joar gestures to wires hanging from the consoles. “The hyperdrive has been taken. The systems that work have been ripped out. I don’t think we need a navigation system with a hole in it.”
“No,” Frode admits. “I thought we might find something out here, but I guess it’s just wishful thinking.”
Like most of the other ships, the cargo holds have been pillaged except for the useless junk, and the rooms don’t look much better. Until we step into the sleeping quarters, at least. It’s in better shape than some of the ones we’ve found, and the mattress is still on the bed. There’s a room across the hall with a lot of broken bunks stacked similar to the ones from the Walruton ship.
“Captain’s quarters,” Frode comments. “Wonder why the sheets and blankets aren’t dirty like everything else?”
Joar walks over, picking up the blanket and rubbing his fingers across the cloth. “It’s made from a self-cleaning material, like the beds we sleep in on Midgard 13,” he says. “Nanobots woven into the fabric is my guess. It could be something else, but that’s what we use.”
“Mm, nice,” Frode says. “It’s nice and quiet out here. Our brothers might not even hear our mate after she starts screaming.”
“You don’t have to make me scream,” I mutter, but I can’t help the grin that teases the edges of my lips.
“It’s more fun when you scream,” Frode chuckles, moving closer.
“And you’re damn well going to scream for me,” Joar growls, his dark eyes narrowing like a predator sizing up his prey. That’s me right now. Prey for two very hungry wolves. “Aren’t you?”
Joar takes a long pull from his cigar, the embers glowing in the dimly lit room before he stubs it out. The smoke rolls off his lips, his eyes demanding an answer, even if the question sounded rhetorical to me.
“Probably,” I whimper, feeling a rush of moisture between my thighs.
My heart races as both of them close in on me. Heated arousal pools in my core. Frode’s hands find my waist first, his touch gentle, but possessive as he pulls me closer. Joar moves behind me, his hot breath on my neck. I’m caught between their warmth. Between two Viking wolf shifters who can do anything to me that they want.
“Let’s get you out of these clothes, mate,” Frode murmurs against my ear, his fingers already working to remove my uniform.
“That is the best idea I’ve heard all fucking day,” Joar rumbles.
Joar’s rougher hands join in from behind, peeling the fabric away from my shoulders. The two of them make quick work of undressing me, their hands roaming over every inch of skin they expose. As soon as my legs are bare, and there’s nothing to stop the arousal from dripping down my thighs, I hear needy whimpers from both of them.
“The scent of your sweet honey is impossible to resist,” Frode breathes out, his eyes darkening as they travel over my body.
“We should spank you just for being so damn irresistible,” Joar grumbles, squeezing my ass, then slapping it.
“That’s not my fault,” I groan, feeling a trickle of nectar roll down my inner thigh as the impact from his callused hand radiates into my core.
“No, but a red ass sure does make you wet,” Frode grins, dropping to his knees in front of me. “Spank her while I drink from her, brother.”
“I’ll let you have a few sips, but I’m thirsty too.” Joar leans down, pressing his lips to my ear. “Spread your legs for us, mate.”
I tremble as I widen my stance. I don’t deserve this spanking, but I know what it will do to me. My mates do too, because they’ve seen how my body reacts to their dominance.
“You’re such a good girl,” Joar murmurs, kissing my neck and smacking my ass a few times, which makes my hips buck toward Frode.
“A very good girl,” Frode praises, his hands gripping my thighs, steadying me as he spreads them wider.
I get a few more callus-palmed slaps across my cheeks before I feel Frode’s tongue drag through my folds from back to front. He focuses on my clit as I gasp through a few more stinging smacks, pain and pleasure blending together, just like they have previously with my mates.
“So fucking good,” Frode growls, his tongue moving along my folds and clit.
“Are you going to drink her sweet honey or just let it run down her thighs?” Joar asks, slapping my ass again.
“It won’t be wasted.” Frode drags his tongue up one thigh, then the other, lapping all of my nectar before he focuses on my entrance.
Frode pushes his tongue into me, and I let out a sharp exhale of pleasure. “Oh, wow.”
Frode’s tongue goes deep, creating amazing friction against my tender walls. He licks away the pooled arousal in my core before teasing my g-spot. Despite his grip on my thighs, I have to support myself by holding onto his muscular shoulders. Just when the pleasure starts to feel mesmerizing, Joar starts spanking me hard and fast.
“Ow! Ow!” I cry out, dancing on my toes, my hips jerking as the pain registers.
“I bet she’s nice and wet now, isn’t she brother?” Joar chuckles.
Frode slowly pulls his tongue out of me. “So fucking wet there’s too much for one wolf.”
“Then I guess she needs two.” Joar slaps both cheeks one last time before lowering himself to his knees behind me.
Joar’s hands squeeze my spanked ass, and I whimper as he spreads me from behind. Frode’s tongue licks and strokes my folds. Joar’s stabs into me like a dagger, rough and aggressive, but once the muscle is buried inside me, I feel the tease of his finesse. He may be an assertive mate, but his skilled tongue has the perfect speed and pressure, just like the first time I felt it.
“Oh, god, that feels so good,” I whisper, one hand remaining on Frode, the other moving to pull Joar closer, my hips squirming back and forth between them while they pleasure me.
Their tongues seem to be everywhere at once. Inside me. Licking my folds. Caressing my clit. As soon as Joar pulls out to lick the arousal trickling down my thighs, Frode is inside me. He’s gentler than his brother, stroking my quivering walls and g-spot like he’s addicted to the taste. Maybe he is. I think I could get addicted to this. Easily.
The pressure builds as I’m rocked back and forth between two greedy tongues. Frode pulls out, and Joar pushes in. After driving me to the brink of an orgasm, they switch again, like they’re purposely delaying it. That doesn’t surprise me with Joar. He’s shown me that one powerful orgasm can be just as good as multiple smaller ones.
“After we’re done drinking from you, we’re both going to fuck you,” Joar announces, his tongue vibrating against my folds.
“Yes, oh god, yes,” I mewl, dangerously close to an orgasm as Frode’s tongue caresses my g-spot.
“But you’ll get us at the same time, mate. One of us here,” Joar licks my entrance before dragging his tongue to my bottom hole, circling the tight ring, “and one of us here.”
“There? But…” I begin, then their tongues send me over the edge. “Oh, fuck! I’m gonna come!”
Frode’s tongue caresses my g-spot while I orgasm. Joar’s slithers along my folds, licking my clit, and sending the peak of bliss higher. I whimper, moan, and gasp as I rock back and forth between them, giving Frode all the nectar he can handle while Joar laps at the droplets.
“My turn,” Joar mumbles against my pussy as Frode removes his tongue. “I bet I can make you come even harder than he did.”
“You both made me come,” I whimper, but Joar pushes into me anyway.
“The only thing that’s better than tasting your pleasure is feeling it on our cocks,” Frode growls, kissing and sucking on my clit. “But not until Joar gets to drink from you.”
I must be the sweetest drink in the entire universe based on how much my mates seem to love tasting me. Not that I’m complaining. After I’ve come on Frode’s tongue, Joar’s aggressive finesse is incredible. He teases me perfectly, letting the orgasm build, but now he’s contending with Frode’s eagerness, and the pleasure is radiating from everywhere.
“Oh, god, I can’t stop it!” I cry out, my pussy fluttering on Joar’s incredible tongue.
Joar drinks from me just like his brother, savoring every drop of my essence while I convulse between the two Viking wolf shifters. But it’s too much. I’m too sensitive. My hands dig into their scalps simultaneously as another wave of euphoria floods through me and right into Joar’s eager mouth.
Their tongues keep moving as multiple smaller orgasms rock me. When I’m finally spent, Joar’s tongue slithers out of my pussy and he licks what is left on my folds before leaning back. Frode keeps teasing my clit until he’s sure there’s no pleasure left to extract. This way, at least.
“I should spank you again for letting him ruin what I was doing,” Joar chuckles, playfully smacking my ass. “I wanted a big orgasm, not those little teases.”
“They were big enough,” I gasp, feeling him squeeze my cheeks and spread them.
“That wasn’t big enough for me. Just wait until we’re both inside you,” Joar purrs against my bottom hole, then he starts licking it.
“Oh!” I say, my back snapping straight as I feel the unusual sensation, but after several rotations of his long, thick tongue, I feel twinges of pleasure that relax me. “Wow, I didn’t even realize how good that could feel.”
“Not nearly as good as it will feel when we’re both claiming you.” Frode kisses and licks my folds and clit as the euphoria returns.
I’m in uncharted territory now, and I don’t just mean because I’m on a strange planet. My friends talked about oral sex and regular sex, but none of them had been brave enough to try anal. I’m not just going to try it. I’m going to be impaled on the biggest, thickest ridged cock out of all my mates. Joar’s naturally rough, and he loses all of his finesse when he’s inside me.
But as scared as I am of that, I can’t deny that this feels amazing. Joar’s tongue pushes past the tight right, opening me up just enough for his saliva to drizzle into my tight passage. My bottom hole clenches and unclenches as he starts circling it again. I have to support myself on both of them as the pleasure radiating through me. I’m seconds away from an orgasm when Joar’s tongue stops moving.
“As much as I want you, I’m going to make sure this pleasurable for both of us,” Joar assures me, lubricating his finger with my wetness before rubbing it on my tightest hole.
I tense up when I feel Joar pushing his finger into me. It’s a lot more resistant than my pussy and there’s a burn, even though his finger is lubricated. I clench on it so tight he stops pushing, just leaving his finger buried inside me up to the first knuckle.
“Relax, Milly,” Joar murmurs, his free hand stroking my hip soothingly. “The more you tense, the more it’ll hurt, and I want you nice and relaxed when I claim you.”
“Breathe through it,” Frode adds, his tongue circling my clit slowly before he pulls away. “Focus on what I’m doing. I know it feels good, even if you’re still recovering.”
Frode’s tongue flicks against my clit and I let out a gasp. “It does.”
I try to follow their instructions, taking deep breaths as Frode’s tongue moves against the sensitive nub. The pleasure helps distract from the burn as Joar slowly pushes his finger deeper into my ass.
“First, you’re going to take one finger like a good girl. Then you’ll take two,” Joar says, his voice rough with need. “Then you’ll take my cock, whether you’re a good girl or not, but it’s going to feel so much better if you listen to us.”
“I want to be a good girl,” I whimper, remembering the punishments I’ve gotten for not listening.
Frode’s tongue continues to gently massage my clit, creating just enough pleasure to ease the burn. Joar pushes deeper and deeper as my body adjusts to the intrusion. Relaxing helps. Frode’s tongue helps a lot more.
“That’s it,” Joar praises, his finger stopping once he’s buried in my depths.
Joar starts moving his finger in and out, not being overly rough for a change. I get used to the way it feels to have my ass filled, each pump of his finger getting easier to take. After a few minutes of it, I feel the pressure building, and it’s not just from Frode’s tongue.
“Mm,” I whimper, starting to push back against Joar.
“See, it’s not nearly as bad as you feared,” Joar croons, rubbing his middle finger through my folds.
“No,” I admit, my voice breathless. “It’s starting to feel good. Really good.”
“Then it’s time for you to take a little more,” he says, probing my bottom hole with his middle finger.
Joar pulls the finger buried inside me to my entrance, then both fingers push in, and I gasp at the stretch. My nails dig into both of my mates. Frode immediately increases the pressure on my clit, but when I whine, he extends the muscle to my entrance and pushes in.
“Oh god, oh god,” I squeal, my sensitive core igniting with more arousal, which causes me to clamp down on Joar’s fingers.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Joar groans, waiting until I relax before he starts working his fingers deeper. “You’re going to feel amazing when you’re stretched around my cock.”
“I’m close again,” I gasp, feeling Frode’s tongue massaging my g-spot.
Despite the burn, once I get used to having two fingers plunging into me in unison with Frode’s ministrations, the pleasure is too much. I whimper and moan, pushing back against Joar while Frode devours me.
“You’re such a needy mate,” Joar rumbles, his fingers moving steadily. “Don’t come yet.”
“Then Frode has to stop,” I plead, trying to push him away.
“Beg for our cocks. Both of them,” Joar growls. “Tell us how much you need to come.”
I buck against Frode, clenching the thick fingers moving inside me. I have no choice but to beg, even if I’m still a little scared of what it will feel like to have both of them inside me.
“Please, please, I need both of you!” I cry out, a shudder of pleasure rushing through me.
Joar slowly pulls his fingers free. Frode’s tongue slows and he lets out a groan that sounds like sliding out of my pussy is the worst thing he’s ever experienced. Going from stuffed to empty is torturous, especially since I was so close to an orgasm.
“Just a whimpering, begging mess, aren’t you?” Joar chuckles, slapping my ass.
“Yes,” I mewl, not even caring about the sting. The way it vibrates into my core feels so good I’d beg for more of that, if they asked me to.
My mates make sure I’m steady. Dripping, but steady, with my legs still spread in a wide stance. Frode stands up first, peeling off the armor that once again looks like a suit. Joar rises behind me, his bulge dragging up my leg before he begins removing his clothes.
They’re savage Viking wolf shifters, but right now, that’s exactly what I need. I need to be claimed as only they can claim me. My bottom hole is twitching. My walls are fluttering. My body is begging to be filled even more than I begged for them to do it.
“Let me start, so that it doesn’t hurt her too much.” Frode caresses my breasts as he positions himself in front of me.
“I’m not just going to ram it in, brother,” Joar growls. “But go ahead.”
Frode wraps his hands around my thighs, lifting me in the air until I feel his thick, ridged cock against my folds. He moves to the bed, sinking into the mattress as I straddle him, his cock sliding into my slickness. I gasp, feeling the fullness, his ridges throbbing against my walls.
“You rode my wolf,” Frode says, his hands coming to rest on my hips. “Now, let’s see if you can ride my cock.”
“I don’t think I’ll have to worry about falling off this time,” I murmur, my legs straining as I begin moving on his length.
“Not at all,” Frode chuckles.
This angle is different, and I can’t get as much friction going, but it still feels good. After having Joar’s fingers inside me, I feel strangely empty, even while riding Frode’s amazing dick. I’m still hesitant about what comes next, but I’m ready. Ready as I’m ever going to be. I glance back at Joar, and he’s hard as a rock.
“I want you too,” I whimper, reaching for him.
“You really are a good girl, aren’t you?” Joar smiles, walking toward the bed. “Riding one cock while you beg for another one.”
Joar climbs on the bed. He grabs my hips roughly, bouncing me on Frode’s cock a few times before bending me over with Frode’s length still buried inside me.
I watch Joar for moment, then turn and kiss Frode, seeking more distraction from what’s coming. He groans into my mouth, our tongues intertwining until I taste sweetness on his breath, like I’m tasting myself the way he tastes me. I’ve never done… that, but I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t taste like honey if I did.
“You’re ready for me, mate,” Joar tells me, rubbing his ridged cockhead against my bottom hole, which makes it flutter. “More than ready.”
Joar is surprisingly gentle, considering how rough he’s been so far. One hand stays on my back, but I don’t mind that, because my lips are still seared against Frode’s. Joar’s other hand sinks into my hip, right above where Frode’s are resting. Frode’s hips rock gently, moving his length inside me, just enough to create friction.
I’m grateful for that when I feel the ridges on Joar’s dick carving into my bottom hole. The stretch burns. His dick is a lot thicker than two of his fingers. I gasp, digging my nails into Frode’s chest. He kisses me deeper, his ridges throbbing inside me, teasing my g-spot in a way that makes me relax a little more for Joar.
“That’s better. Nice and relaxed,” Joar coaxes, pushing more of his thickness into me.
The burning stretch makes me gasp, pulling away from Frode’s lips. “It hurts,” I whimper, digging my nails into Frode’s chest again.
“You can take it, Milly.” Frode looks into my eyes. He moves inside me faster, his hips rising and falling. “Look at me. Feel me.”
“I feel both of you,” I whine, grimacing as Joar goes deeper.
I follow Frode’s instructions and keep eye contact with him. I focus on the pleasure radiating from my core every time he flexes against the sensitive spot inside me. That relaxes me a little more. The burning stretch gets more comfortable.
Joar continues his gentle, but persistent advances. He pulls his dick back until only the ridged head is inside me, then plunges into my depths, the lubrication allowing him to smoothly glide into my tightly stretched passage. He repeats the motion a few times, each one making me whimper, but Frode’s movements dull the ache.
“I knew you were ready for me,” Joar gloats, pushing the last few inches into my ass, the hand on my hip tightening.
Joar is as deep as he can go. His hips are against my ass. I’m speared on his thick, ridged cock. So full, I feel like I’m going to burst. But Frode’s movements are even better now. Something about the pressure in my ass makes Frode feel even tighter in my pussy, if that’s even possible considering his size.
“You feel so fucking good, Milly,” Frode growls.
“Yes, mate. You feel incredible,” Joar groans, his dick trembling like he can’t wait to start pounding it into me. “I’ll go slow. Let me know when you’re ready for more.”
Joar begins moving in my bottom hole. Frode slows down to match his brother’s speed, each of them pulling back and pushing into me at the same time. Pleasure radiates from my core that makes me whimper, while the burning ache radiating from my ass makes me whine.
After several minutes of being trapped between pleasure and pain, the burning from the stretch gets easier to endure. Then I feel a tingle of pleasure that gets stronger as they continue to move inside me. More whimpers than whines pour out of me as they continue to move inside my body, the pleasure building.
“I’m ready for more,” I whisper.
“Yes, you are.” Joar moves inside me faster.
Frode matches his brother’s thrusts, and they continue to get a little faster. The pleasure builds into a familiar pressure, except it’s more intense, and it tightens every time they plunge their cocks deep inside me at the same time.
“She’s going to come so fucking hard,” Frode mutters. “I can already feel it.”
“Me too, brother,” Joar rumbles.
“I can take a little more,” I plead, feeling the bliss coursing through my veins. “Please… I need it.”
“We know exactly what you need, mate.” Joar’s thrusts are getting harder and more aggressive.
Both cocks are driven into me forcefully. Frode isn’t just matching Joar’s speed now, he’s also matching his aggression. Their thrusts get faster and harder until I’m unable to tell which one feels better. The pleasure seems to blend together in my core as both of them pound into me. I feel the vibrations from Joar’s ruthless pounding meet the amazing strokes against my g-spot, and the combination is more than I can handle.
“I’m about to come!” I cry out, seconds before I feel the orgasm crash into me.
“That’s it, mate. Keep coming for me,” Joar orders.
“Keep coming for us,” Frode counters.
It’s a big one, and I come undone on both their cocks. I clench, let out a scream of euphoria, then I spasm on their girthy lengths, my entire lower half shaking with bliss between their furious thrusts. The peak lasts so long I see stars, and as soon as I start to come down, another orgasm tears through me.
“Fuck!” I squeal, more pleasure rippling through both of my stretched passages.
“Damn, you feel good,” Joar groans. “But I want a really big orgasm before I fill you with my seed.”
“I already had a big one,” I protest.
“Not big enough,” Joar rasps, moving his hand from my hip, smacking my ass, and driving his dick into me again.
“You can do it, mate,” Frode says soothingly. “You’re already close to another one.”
“Yes,” I admit, then a smaller orgasm pulses through me.
After a few more thrusts, another smaller orgasm vibrates from my core. Multiple smaller ones follow it, until it’s hard to tell if I’m coming from being fucked in the ass, or from the way Frode’s ridges rub against my tender walls. Then Joar’s long ridge throbs inside me, and there’s no doubt it’s what sends me over the edge again.
“Oh god, oh god,” I whimper, shaking from the pleasure.
“It’s still not good enough, mate,” Joar growls. “We’ll fuck you as long as it takes.”
“I’m not sure there’s much left,” I whine, feeling some exhaustion set in.
“Plenty left,” Frode says confidently, driving his dick into my g-spot until I let out another loud squeal.
The multiple orgasms give way to a dull ache that centers in my abdomen. It feels like I’m too weary to endure another orgasm, but my mates are too determined to stop. They keep pounding their lengths into me until the dull ache builds into a tight pressure, like a bubble that desperately needs to be popped.
“Harder,” I whimper, realizing that I’ve orgasmed so many times it’s going to take more than this to push me over the edge again.
“You want it harder? Is that what you need?” Joar growls, aggressively slamming into me. “Beg louder.”
“Harder!” I shriek.
Joar’s thrusts are too forceful and fast for Frode to keep up. Likely because he’s throbbing desperately inside my pussy because he needs his release. The bubbled pressure gets so tight I can’t breathe. I wonder if I’ll choke on my own breath and die while they’re still fucking me, but then the pressure releases like an explosion of euphoria.
“Oh, my god!” I scream, as the biggest orgasm I’ve ever had is torn from my soul.
“Finally, fucking finally!” Joar roars, and I feel him erupt in my ass.
“Fuck!” Frode snarls, and I feel the throb of his hot seed. It seems to catch him by surprise, several moments of wordless pleasure pouring of him in unison with his throbs.
I scream again, my walls fluttering on both of them as they ejaculate inside me, the orgasm peaking so hard I have trouble breathing again before it finally begins to wane. The comedown is as brutal as the release, my entire body aching as I feel the last pulses of their mutual release.
“There’s nothing left at all now,” I whisper, still rippling on their lengths as I slump against Frode’s massive chest.
“Good,” Joar chuckles, grinding his length into me a few more times like he’s trying to wring every last drop of his lust out.
“Fucking incredible,” Frode sighs.
“Except I need to rest,” I mewl, my eyes closing. “I don’t even think I can move.”
“Take all the time you need,” Frode says gently.
Joar slowly pulls out of me, and there’s a plop when his ridged head leaves my ass. I feel fluid leaking out, but I’m too exhausted to care. Frode rolls me over on the bed, gently placing my head on the pillow before he slides out of my pussy. A few more tremors of pleasure radiate once I’m empty.
I’m vaguely aware of them kissing me. Vaguely aware of a sheet being pulled over my exhausted, sweaty body.
I’m asleep in a matter of seconds.