Season List for The Collector

Season 1: The Collector

Season 2: The Collector’s Curse

【01】Next Order of Business

Drive me to the airport…

The moment I saw his reaction, I realized how cruel my teasing had been. Ulrik went through all the stages of grief before I could remedy my mistake, though, and when he opened his mouth to protest, I spoke again, hoping he would forgive me for my thoughtless joke. I had made him work for it hard enough—as he deserved—and now his anguish could come to an end.

“I have a plane ticket that needs canceling.”

That also left him stunned, recalculating everything. When he got my meaning, though, elation crossed his face.

Offering him a smile, I bent his way slightly. “You were about to argue, weren’t you?” I asked, cocking up an eyebrow at him. He didn’t even have to reply, as his guilty expression spoke for itself. Gently scolding, I reminded him, “You said you’d let me go if I chose to.”

“I suppose that makes it the only lie I uttered tonight.”

“You promise?”

“Yes, I’ve been genuine about everything else.”

“Even your wish to build a lasting relationship with me?”

“Especially that.”

Somehow, I couldn’t help but worry that he didn’t truly mean it. How could he? It was as though the world had been flipped upside down, leaving me with whiplash and some form of jetlag. I needed more time to get used to the idea, and a whole lot of reassurances.

After giving it a quick thought, I decided on the safest course of action. “I’m willing to give it a try, but you are on probation, Ulrik. For now, we’re just… seeing how it goes, familiarizing ourselves with the idea. And when the time feels right, we’ll decide on a more official status.”

“You give the pace, Mila.”

“Perfect.”

Silence stretched, leaving only my thoughts to fill it. But they all vanished when he lifted his hand to my face, softly running the pad of his thumb over my cheekbone. His genuineness reassured me, taking away some of my worries.

“You won’t regret staying,” he swore, his eyes locked on mine.

“I better not. One more fuck up, and I’m gone for good. This is your last chance, Ulrik.”

“It’s a lot more than I deserve, so I won’t mess it up.”

“Your self-awareness is commendable. Now, what are you waiting for, Ulrik?”

Confused, his brows furrowed as he tried to guess what I meant.

Bending toward him, I gave him a smile. “You may kiss m—”

His lips were on mine before I could even finish the sentence, his hands framing my face as he intently pulled me onto him.

Things slowly got out of hand, the cool air inside the car turning to heat. In our kiss, I could taste his relief, his appreciation, and his gratitude. I had a hand still distractedly clutching the dessert, and the other one was molded on his nape, keeping him as close to me as I could. The wide console between us was annoying, but we still made do. Especially with his arms pulling me to him like a savage, wrapped around my middle and shoulders.

Pulling away slightly, he planted his eyes deep into mine.

“I thought I’d lost you for good. Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

“You deserved to suffer a little more.”

That compelled him to retake my lips for some reason. He truly adored my fieriness, didn’t he?

“You are…the most…aggravating…woman I’ve…ever met,” he groaned in between kisses, still not over my teasing. Neither of us were ready to let go, busy releasing all the tension that had built up.

“Are you still sure you want me?” I teasingly asked.

“To no fucking end.”

My unshakable smile came in the way of his ministrations, so he lowered to drop kisses down my neck, positively famished. He sampled me with his tongue, his lips soft yet burning against my skin. My head was spinning, my senses overflowing. Elation like I’d rarely felt before was flooding me, and his hands and lips were heating me inside out.

Dear God… The heavenly sensations that wrecked me were above and beyond anything I’d ever experienced. We had to give this, us , a try, and see where it would take all of this insane chemistry. With him, the sky was our only limit. If even.

As he ravaged me with his precious attentions, I wondered how I could have even hesitated. This, whatever it was between us, was the stuff of legends. It was unique, raw, and so impossibly strong… Those shivers and sensations would never be as powerful with anyone else.

When he’d gotten his fill of me, or at least enough to release me, I knew I was a hot mess, with flushed cheeks and glassy eyes. His own face was a little red as well, his cheeks an adorable shade of pink.

When I looked down at my dessert, I noticed it had gotten a bit smudged in the chaos, cream and powdered chocolate coating the lid. Worried it might suffer even more, I twisted to settle it on a seat in the back.

“Alright, let’s go, baka ,” I told Ulrik with enthusiasm.

He smiled wide, his face toward the windshield. “Only Yuko gets to call me that and get away with it, sweetheart. But you may call me darin or hanii , if you want.”

“Are those endearments or softer insults?”

“Endearments. But I’m sure that you, of all people, can turn them into insults with the proper tone.”

“I’ll do my best.”

As if he couldn’t stop himself, he reached out to me once more and brought me to his lips. His relief was never ending, and it showed just how much I mattered to him, how much he needed me in his life, wanted me in it.

When we parted again, the car was officially not cold anymore, which was probably due to our passionate exchanges more than the heating system that had been silently doing its job. After one last side look at me, he drove off into the snowy night, satisfaction lingering on his features. He was clearly over the moon, and his elation was contagious.

As for myself, I was feeling weightless, even though some doubts lingered. But what did I have to lose, really? A few months of my life? A few years? It was nothing; so inconsequential in the scale of a life. The things I had to gain, though… Those were endless, it seemed. If we could make this work, if a relationship with him was possible, then I’d have a life full of him, which sounded so grand.

A little lost in my thoughts, trying to imagine what the next few days would be like, I barely paid any attention when we passed a panel indicating the exit for the airport. A few seconds after we’d passed it, I turned around, confused.

“Are we not returning to the airport to cancel the ticket?”

“You can do it online as we drive, or fuck it. I need to get you back to the estate before common sense hits you and you change your mind.”

Touched by his concerns, I chuckled. “I won’t change my mind. Not unless you give me a reason to.”

“I won’t.”

Ignoring the way my heart was beating irregularly, I fished out my phone from my pocket. “Crap, I need the ticket number. It’s in my bag in the trunk.”

“There’s a hatch in the backrests behind. Maybe you could grab it from there? Otherwise, I can stop at the next exit.”

We were already on the freeway, and there weren’t many options to stop. Also, I didn’t want to go out into the cold again. With a sigh, I unbuckled my seatbelt, making the security trigger beep with protest. I struggled to remove my jacket, and then carefully made my way to the back. The hatch was large enough for me to send my arm there, but the trunk was huge, meaning I didn’t have enough length. I ended up with my upper half slipped into the opening so I could reach it. Once I had found my bag, I retrieved the ticket from it before pulling myself out of the hatch.

As I made my way back to the front seat, I noticed the odd angle of the rearview mirror. When I realized what it meant, I scoffed with incredulity. “You could at least try to be discrete about it,” I mumbled with a nod toward the askew mirror, settling into my seat—which triggered the security again.

“I’m a simple man who knows how to enjoy the little things,” he explained, readjusting the damn thing.

“I’ve worked too hard on my ass for you to call it ‘little.’”

“Well, it’s not. And your hard work shows.” His crooked smile did things to me, and I bit back my smile, looking down at the ticket.

“Okay, time to get you reimbursed,” I said with purpose as soon as I was secured again.

The next ten minutes were spent finding out how to cancel the ticket, and then managing just in time. Phew, it had been a close one. And although I knew he had a lot more than what was roughly seven hundred dollars to spare, I felt more comfortable knowing I’d done my best to get it fixed.

Now, on to the next order of business.

My stomach churned a little at the thought of Gigi. She’d guess something was happening, wouldn’t she? I’d postponed my return too much as it was, and she would probably catch on to what was happening between Ulrik and me. Or at least she’d suspect it.

“I don’t know what to tell Gigi,” I told him with a wince.

“Tell her the plane’s been canceled altogether because of the snow.”

It was a good start, but not enough. “And then what?”

“Then I’ll keep you so busy you won’t worry about Gigi any longer.”

I snorted, unimpressed by his cocky tone. “I fully intend on spending most of my time working in the glass room, Ulrik. It’s still a work trip, even if there’s now some leisure added to it.”

“Alright, your days are for work, your nights are for me.”

“Better.”

“It’s agreed, then. You’re mine from sunset to sunrise.”

“Ah-ha. You’re not so sleek, you know?” The winter solstice was coming rapidly, and we were down to less than seven hours of day length.

“I had to give it a try,” he conceded with a sly grin.

After an eye roll, I returned my attention to my phone. It was still early enough for Gigi to see it before she slept, so I already knew I’d have a series of questions and protests coming my way. But as Ulrik had suggested, I told her the delayed plane was now canceled due to the bad weather, and that I’d let her know about my new return date.

Since she wasn’t the only one I needed to warn, I then opened my emails and switched to the professional account. Work wasn’t an issue as much, since Ulrik had Mr. Mullins wrapped around his little finger. The museum’s director wouldn’t reject his hospitality on my behalf, especially not if I told him that Ulrik had been the one to offer it. He could send Mullins an email as well, apologizing for keeping me away from the museum for another week.

Our way back to the Westergaard estate was nothing like our way from. His hand, for instance, spent most of the drive on my thigh, mindlessly grazing the fabric of my jeans with his thumb. My own fingers were intertwined with his, my palm on the back of his broad hand.

Writing an email one-handed wasn’t optimal, but I refused to let go of him. It took me a solid ten minutes to write everything down, and then I sent it to Ian, Henry, and Mullins. By the time I’d done that, I had seven messages from Gigi, which I’d seen come in but refused to deal with.

She wasn’t mad but rather disappointed, threatening to come get me herself if I kept delaying my return. So that she was mentally prepared for my next excuse, I told her it wasn’t so bad, since I’d get to explore the archive room at last.

After some back and forth, she eventually concluded that while she missed me, having the place to herself wasn’t that terrible, especially considering that Vick had three flatmates.

The harmony of my little life might change from now on, I realized. If Ulrik spent more time in London to be with me, as he’d offered, then I wouldn’t be at the apartment as often, but rather in his townhouse. Gigi would get the place to herself more, and we’d see each other a lot less. It was hard to accept that I might not spend as much time with her as I was used to, but we’d still make it work, I was sure of it.

My attention turned to the man sitting beside me. Things weren’t sure yet, and this probation time might end up in a failure. Either way, things would work out. Welcoming a man in my life, especially him, was the cherry on top. But I didn’t need him or anyone else to be whole, so I would be fine no matter what.

Noticing that I was looking at him, Ulrik offered me a gentle smile and brought our interlaced hands up to his lips to drop a long kiss on the back of mine. It didn’t fail to send butterflies low in my core.

It was pretty damn clear what would happen as soon as we got back, and my body was slowly but surely preparing itself for it. Ulrik seemed just as impatient, since he went slightly over the speed limit any time the road allowed it. Which he hadn’t done the other way around.

By the time we reached the unmarked gates of the Westergaard estate, I was positively anxious to arrive. Maybe I was a bit of a masochist, because I couldn’t imagine a better way to conclude this crazy evening than by getting wrecked by him yet again. I still hadn’t recovered from his amorous ministrations as it was, which meant I’d end up even more sore.

Since he needed both hands to navigate through the twists and turns of the private road that led to the mansion, I reluctantly released him. The way my palm tingled with discontent, missing his warmth, made me worry for some reason. I was already so attached, despite barely knowing him. My infatuation for the man, the feelings that would grow for him would rapidly reach dangerous heights. Falling from them would be harrowing.

“Do you really think we’re compatible?” I asked.

“Are you already regretting not getting on that plane?” Although he tried to mask it with humor, the underlying concern in his tone wasn’t missed.

“No, I’m not. It’s just that… We don’t really know one another, do we? We know we have a common passion for Old Norse artifacts and history, we both enjoy good food, and our humors match. Also, we’re compatible in bed.”

“We’re very compatible in bed.”

“Yes, very much so. But what if we realize it’s all we have in common, and we don’t find it to be enough?”

“Then we’ll go our separate ways. This isn’t a hostage situation, Mila. You’re free to leave anytime you want. Personally, I think we are a highly compatible pair, and I mean beyond our chemistry. I find you riveting to be around, and that clever mind of yours never ceases to amaze me. With you, things could never be boring. The fire in you and your temper are enthralling to me.”

“I don’t have a temper.”

“A little bit, but I like it.”

“Only when you’re around, then, so take it as you will.”

“That was because of all the built up frustration between us. We wanted to fuck each other’s brains out but couldn’t, so we took it out the only way we could.”

“So you’re saying things would have been much smoother if I’d ridden your face sooner?”

He let out a brief groan, apparently enjoying the image. “You’re welcome to sit on my face anytime, kjære . But no, I don’t think it would have been enough. I just needed to get a fucking grip.”

“I still think it might have helped,” I insisted.

“Well, it couldn’t have hurt.”

“Especially since it’s a great way to shut you up. Any time you bothered me, I could have just taken a seat and silenced that annoying tongue of yours.”

He laughed, a deep, powerful laugh that filled the car and made my chest swell with delight. “See? We’re meant to be, love.”

“Like a lit match is meant to be with gasoline, maybe.”

“As I said, it could never be boring.”

Leaning over, I tried to see how long we had until we got to the house. It was too dark outside for me to discern anything, and the snow wasn’t helping. “How far are we?”

“Another five minutes. Why?”

“All this talk of face riding is making me restless,” I explained, holding back a naughty smirk.

“And what do you think it does for me?”

Something in his tone told me exactly what he meant by that, so I immediately looked down at his crotch. Sure enough, the image had made him a little too excited too.

“Five minutes…” I mumbled to myself, impatient to get there.

【02】Life of Luxury

One day, I would learn not to underestimate this man. But today wasn’t that day.

Moments after parking the car in his vast garage, he was pulling me out of the car with eagerness, not allowing me any time to gather my things. A longing kiss followed, one neither of us could break. On our way to the elevator that led to the upper levels, we pulled and tugged on each other’s clothes.

By the time we reached it, my silk shirt was wide open, his turtleneck was discarded somewhere on the garage’s floor, and his zipper was halfway down. We stumbled into the confined space, and he blindly sent a hand on the buttons, pressing all of them.

The doors didn’t even have time to close before he plastered me onto one of the wooden panels. Just as eager as he was, I welcomed his touch and lips, wrapping my arms around him as he pushed my shirt off my shoulders. Our crotches were pressed together, his raging erection pushing against my sensitive core. I would never get used to this, to the pleasure, the electric sparks, the lust dripping between us… With starved eyes, he glimpsed down at my bra, at the nipples below the sheer baby blue fabric. There was wonderment in his gaze when he looked up at me again.

“I still can’t believe you’re here,” he said, thrusting against me, making heat flash all the way up to my cheeks.

I stretched my neck up, bringing my lips nearly against his. “And I still can’t believe you came after me.”

His powerful hands slithered down my back, to my bottom, and he squeezed each cheek with fervor before lifting me up. My legs wrapped themselves around his waist as we reclaimed each other’s lips, his weight pressing me into the panel even harder. The doors opened, but we were too absorbed to even care. Ulrik was busy unclasping my bra, and I was tugging at the tight sweater he’d worn below his knitted one.

It seemed we weren’t on the upper floor anyway, since the elevator closed and climbed some more. By the time it opened again, we were both bare-chested, the thin hairs on his broad torso tickling my nipples. I clung harder onto him as he pushed us away from the wall, never halting my exploration of his mouth with my tongue. God, how I adored kissing him…

The lights turned on automatically as he stepped out, which allowed him to navigate us around with ease. With a solid arm in my back, he lowered me onto the cushiony surface of the living room sofa. His attention turned to the low table beside us, and he abandoned me for a brief moment to bend toward it. With a push on the discreet electronic panel embedded into it, the fire in the hearth started while the lights dimmed, plunging us into a sensual atmosphere. When a slow, voluptuous jazz tune rose around us, I didn’t hold back my amusement.

“Show off.”

“You’ve seen nothing yet, darling.”

Dominantly, he came back on top of me, pressing his hard-on onto my core, making me moan in the kiss that he crashed onto my lips. When he began slowly grinding into me, I turned my face to the side, gasping for air, desperate to cool off.

As my pants echoed in the living room, he dropped a fiery trail of kisses, licks, and nibbles down my jaw, throat, chest… Each of my nipples received the torturous treatment of his sinful mouth, and then he headed south again. My jeans were in the way, so he was forced to straighten up. With a hold on my leg, he ripped a shoe from my foot, and then the other one, throwing them on the floor. As I lay there, I admired his perfect torso and its tattoos, as well as the muscular arms that wrestled against the tight fabric.

It came off, along with my socks, leaving me in nothing but a black thong. He took me in, pure pride and adoration in his eyes as he did. Feeling like a temptress, I arched against the couch, bringing my hands to my breasts and squeezing them together, seeking my nipples and twisting them tauntingly.

“Fucking hell,” he groaned.

Instead of covering me with his body again, he lowered enough so that he could shove his face between my legs, over the thin layer of my thong. He inhaled my scent deeply, and then the touch of his tongue came, grazing my folds over the lace.

“You want me so much, you’ve soaked through your underwear…” There was nothing but appreciation in his tone, and it made my skin tingle and toes curl.

“It’s not the first time you’ve made me need an underwear change,” I confessed.

He licked me again, still over the flimsy material, and I arched a little further onto his face. His hands were at my waist, holding me in place as he tortured me, taking his sweet time. I was just about to reach down to remove the garment when his fingers slipped into the sides of it. But instead of lowering it, he pulled on it, hard enough to make it snap.

“You caveman…”

“Don’t act like you didn’t love it, kjære . I can see your cunt throb.”

His focus was fixed on me, fixed on my pussy, and when he lowered slowly, I braced myself. As I already knew, the man was divine at this, doing all the right things in the right places. Before long, I was writing and arching, my fingers tightly clutched in his hair.

He made me climb and climb, but right as I was about to tilt into bliss, he stopped his ministrations, straightening up instead.

“You can be so fucking annoying,” I frustratedly whimpered.

Looking very smug and cocky, he leisurely took care of opening his pants, adamant to drive me mad. I’d been so fucking close…

Since I wasn’t some helpless damsel, I sent my hand between my legs and took care of myself. My fingers had time to roll over my aching clit twice before he grabbed my wrist and pulled it up.

“Don’t,” he ordered. I was about to send my other hand when he added. “You’ll come soon enough, and it’ll be around my cock.”

Well, that was tempting…

I nodded in approval, which made him release me so he could return to his pants. Before lowering them, he pulled out his wallet from his back pocket, and from it, a condom. He held it with his teeth as his hands pushed his dark jeans down, freeing his massive erection.

Mesmerized, I watched as he rolled the protection on himself, struggling not to touch that part of me that longed for him. I would come very quickly, that was for certain.

As soon as he was sheathed in latex, he came back against me, using his hand to angle his cock with my awaiting opening. We stared into each other’s eyes when the round head pressed against my dripping slit, and we didn’t let go the entire he sunk into me. His thrust was slow but implacable, his girth stretching my sore flesh.

Ulrik let out a guttural groan once he was fully into me, his eyes hooded with desire. He wasted no time taking me, as if he’d waited an eternity for it, as if we hadn’t been doing exactly that for most of the afternoon.

Even now, I could barely believe it was all real. I was truly here, having couch sex with a man I thought I’d never see again. A man unlike any other out there.

Life was full of surprises, wasn’t it?

---

We have to make this work , I thought to myself as we lay on the couch together, our breath still ragged, staring at the ceiling above us. Ulrik was in the same position as me, keeping me tucked between him and the backrest. Shit, he deserved some kind of award after this.

He’d managed to make me come three times before finding his own release, each orgasm so good I thought I might pass out. Something had been a little different from our previous time, almost more intimate, but not quite. Possessiveness. That was what had happened. He’d fucked me with fervor, with ownership, like he was in charge of my pleasure from now on. Which he kind of was.

I needed to secure this man for the rest of my life, just for the sex alone. How could it be this transcending? This insanely good?

“Fuck, Mila…” he almost whimpered next to me, still not over it either.

“I know. I really know.” I pressed my knees together, still not over any of it. Christ…

My head rolled to the side, seeking him, and he mirrored my gesture. Side by side, we stared at each other in silence, taking it all in. Twisting toward me, he settled his large and callous hand over my ribs, pulling me his way slightly. My own palm flattened on his solid pectoral, and I stretched my neck to accept the kiss he initiated.

We kissed lazily, languorously, like we had all the time in the world. When he pulled away, his gaze was full of warmth and tenderness.

“Do you know what would be perfect right now?” I asked in a whisper.

“More sex? I’ll need a little longer before that happens, but I agree.”

I giggled, unimpressed by his attempt. “Some tiramisu. That’d be perfect.”

He groaned, looking at the elevator doors. “I’m the one getting it, I suppose?”

“It’s your fault if I can’t walk right now, so yes.”

With a nod, he accepted his fate. After one last quick peck, he pushed himself up to sit on the couch. From my venture point, I admired the defined muscles of his back, smiling proudly at its broadness. This magnificent man wanted me, and for more than just sex.

Ulrik rid himself of the condom, tying it up, and stood to fetch his pants. Mesmerized, I watched his perfect shape as he put it on, making his softening dick disappear behind the dark jeans.

“One tiramisu coming up for my tesoro ,” he said, winking at me. I might not understand Italian to save my life, but that one, I could easily guess.

Unabashedly, I ogled him during his walk to the elevator. As soon as the doors closed behind him, leaving me alone, I threw a forearm over my eyes, grinning wide like an imbecile, feeling so giddy I might start vibrating.

How could the same person bring me so much glee and so much ache? Everything was heightened with him, be it good or bad. It was both terrifying and exhilarating. The highs would never be as stellar as with him, but the lows… Oh, the lows would be disastrous.

All we had to do was craft ourselves only highs, then.

My humid skin turned cold without him to keep me warm, so I crawled higher on the couch until I could reach the throw blanket tastefully arranged over the back cushion. I wrapped myself inside it, sitting up with my knees against my chest.

When I noticed the substantial patch of wetness I’d left on the light gray sofa, I cringed. In my experience, it wouldn’t leave a mark by the time it dried off. Semen was another story, but all of Ulrik’s was contained in the condom he’d abandoned on the table. No, we should be good. Yuko wouldn’t notice this.

A little visitor I’d forgotten about suddenly appeared up the stairs, slowly walking my way. “Hey, big guy,” I greeted Reggie when he jumped on the couch by my feet. I slipped a hand out of the blanket and scratched him behind the ears, like he loved.

The elevator doors opening again made my eyes dart to them, and Ulrik reappeared with a lot more than just the tiramisu. He also had my computer bag, suitcase, and all the clothes we’d discarded on our way up here. I watched, quite entertained, as he crossed the entire space with all that, doing his best not to drop anything. After he’d settled it all by the corridor that led to the rooms, he went to fetch two spoons in the kitchen and returned with them and the dessert.

Since he showed no signs of being cold, I selfishly kept the blanket to myself when he sat by me. After he’d popped open the clear container, he handed me a spoon. Deprived of my touch, Reggie decided to go sit on the other end of the sofa.

The tiramisu looked a little messy now, and the layers that had been so neat earlier were a little scrambled. It would taste the same, though. Ulrik allowed me to have the first taste, so I dug my spoon in there and returned it well-filled to my mouth.

It was… divine. The texture was magnificently airy, the taste creamy and sweet, and the coffee in there was high quality, rich and flavorful. The balance of it all was perfect. And clearly it would have been even better if I’d eaten it back at the restaurant.

“My God…” I let out with wonder as soon as I swallowed.

“I know, right? Nonna knows what she’s doing.”

We ate the delicious dessert in silence, refueling ourselves after all that activity. Sleepiness slowly gained on me, a little more with each bite I took. The fire dancing on the other side of the coffee table wasn’t helping, coaxing my mind into letting go. It must have been well past midnight, and I’d had a very long day, even though I’d woken up late. My eyes could barely remain open by the time we finished the container.

“Alright, let’s get you to bed,” Ulrik said sweetly, taking my spoon away.

With a shake of my head, I wriggled closer to him. “I don’t want to move.”

This was nice, his warmth seeping through the blanket, his large body plastered against mine, the hearth before us… I could get used to this life of luxury, to the opulence of this place, to being there with Ulrik.

But most of all, I could get used to him .

God, how I wanted to…

【03】The Glass Room

The mattress moving underneath me was what stirred me out of the deep sleep I’d fallen into. I wasn’t ready to wake up, though, so I wriggled against it with a frown. It was so warm, and firm, and…trying to make its way out from under me.

Which wasn’t something mattresses did.

Confused, I blinked my eyes open. They landed on intricate drawings of ink and the warm skin beneath them. I was half hauled up over Ulrik, covering part of him like a blanket. The lulling sound of his heart was right under my ear, strong and regular. Now that I was more conscious, I realized he was discreetly trying to remove himself from there without waking me up.

With unfocused eyes, I looked up to meet his gaze, which was already on me.

“There you are,” he murmured, bringing a hand up to graze my cheekbone with his thumb. “Hi…”

“Hi.”

His naked body against mine was enough to spark some desire within me, especially with his solid thigh pressed on my core. The effect this man had on me was beyond ridiculous.

Since I didn’t trust my morning breath, I fought the desire to kiss him good morning, and flattened my lips onto his chest instead. As I began dropping more kisses onto his tattooed skin, I made my intentions crystal clear, writhing my hips, sliding my core against him.

“ Kjære ,“ he groaned, disapproving. My hand reached down his stomach, grasping his hardening shaft. “You had to wake up earlier for this.”

“I’m awake now.”

He reached for my wrist, which he pulled away from his growing erection. “As much as I would love to stay in bed with you all day, I’m afraid I need to get ready.”

“For what? It’s Saturday,” I mumbled, pressing myself tighter onto him, still dropping kisses on his chest.

“I have two dozen people in New York who don’t care about that. My abrupt departure has caused a few problems that need handling. And I couldn’t quite do that yesterday.”

I grimaced, understanding that the situation was indeed more important than satisfying my libido. My attempt at seducing him stopped at once, looking up instead to meet his gaze.

The thought had been far from my mind until this moment, but now that it was, I wondered just how bad things were because of it. “Do you—do you regret leaving like you did to get me?”

“Oh, definitely.”

My jaw dropped open, half amused and half scandalized. But before I could say anything, he continued, “I’d much rather be doing what you have in mind than spending my afternoon locked in my office to put out the fires I’ve lit.”

“Well, we can get back to this when you’re done,” I reassured him, kissing his chest one last time before freeing him from my hold.

But he wasn’t so ready to let go, it seemed, since his arm underneath me came against my back to bring me closer. He lowered to kiss me, intently pressing his lips on mine.

As soon as things heated a little too much, he pulled away with a groan.

“Later.”

Adamant not to let temptation win, he slid me away from him and pushed himself off the bed in a supple move. Rising to my elbow, I watched his amazing back and ass as he walked out of my room naked, pressing my lips together to hide my excited smile. Later…

I let myself fall back on the pillow, grinning like an idiot. With everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours, I should have been drowning in questions and doubts. Whiplash should have thrown me out of my mind by a few miles.

But for some reason, I was… content. I wasn’t lost, wasn’t confused, and wasn’t regretting any of it. It just felt too natural, too good.

Now that we weren’t fighting that desire that bound us, now that we weren’t trying to push each other to keep some distance, things were smooth and perfect. Although, it had barely been half a day yet, and most of it had been spent sleeping or having sex. Hopefully, these first few hours were a good sign, and not the calm before the storm.

Since my one reason to stay in bed was gone, I forced myself to get out of it. I had some work to do as well, and since I couldn’t spend the afternoon with a Viking hunk between my legs, I’d spend it reading Viking manuscripts instead. After I’d fished out some clothes from my suitcase and gotten ready, I grabbed my phone and exited the room. It was nearly one in the afternoon already, which explained why there had been no time to fool around.

The eggs were just done cooking when he emerged from the bedrooms hallway; looking like the very serious businessman he was. Two plates awaited with toasts and ham, as well as glasses of orange juices and mugs filled with coffee. Careful not to break the yolks, I slipped two eggs into each plate with the spatula, and then went to put the pan back onto the turned off stove.

“You work fast, woman,” he appreciatively told me as he came further into the room, adjusting the cuff of his light blue shirt under his gray jacket.

“I figured the quicker you get to work, the faster you’ll be off.”

He had reached me, his tall body clad in an expensive suit. Gosh, the duality of this man was uncanny. Naked-Ulrik looked like a sexy brute who wielded axes and owned a Harley Davidson, but suit-Ulrik looked like he bought entire corporations on a daily basis. Both of them made me so damned wet.

His hand fattened over my hip, his warmth instantly seeping through the slim fabric of my pencil skirt. Seductively, he slowly bent toward me, his minty breath tickling my nostrils. I’d taken a moment to brush my teeth too, so I confidently allowed him to breathe me in as I breathed him. He brought his lips so close to mine that they lightly touched.

“And what plans do you have for when I’m off, Miss Connelly?”

“Getting railed into next week, Mr. Westergaard.” His small, satisfied smile disappeared behind my kiss.

During our brunch, I excitedly told him I would finally enter the archive room, to which he gave me a few tips on what to start with. Engrossed in our conversation, we paid poor attention to the time passing. With a glimpse at his watch, though, he realized he was late for his first meeting. After a quick peck on the lips, he left me on my stool before walking with long strides to his office.

Less than ten minutes later, I was downstairs, standing before the wide door of the glass room. Since Reggie couldn’t enter the strictly regulated room, I’d left him upstairs, sleeping on the couch. Excitement was bubbling in my veins, making my skin tickle and my breathing quicken. Pandora’s box was about to be opened, and there would be no going back.

When I pulled on the heavy door, the first thing that struck me was the rich smell of old paper and leather. I’d spent enough time in the museum’s archive room to know it well, but here, it was particularly strong. The state-of-the-art preservation room had probably made it so. I inhaled deeply as I stepped in, closing my eyes to focus on all the nuances of it. It smelled like history, knowledge, and ancient times.

How fun!

With my hands behind me so I wouldn’t be tempted to touch anything, I made a first tour of the room, a recon mission of sorts, to get a sense of the marvels awaiting me. I easily spotted the works Ulrik had mentioned, all grouped on one particular shelf. There was also a flat counter covered by a glass case, and beneath it, ancient scrolls that were rolled open to relevant passages.

Gosh, I’d almost missed seeing all this!

Exhilarated, I went to fetch my silk gloves and slipped them on, ready for my nerdy exploration. The first codex I picked up was heavy in my hands, its pages yellowed by the centuries, its leather cover burnished by all the hands that had held it. I walked to the reading table set in the middle of the room, admiring the details of the book’s exterior. Although I was used to handling such priceless works, I always did so with the utmost carefulness. It deserved reverence and gentleness.

A few pages were enough to understand what exactly this codex was about, making a shocked breath come out of me. This was worth even more than I’d thought. How could Ulrik own this? Not just how had he found it, but how could he think it was okay to keep something like this to himself, rather than share it with scholars and historians? Before I allowed myself to dwell on the question of his selfishness, I dove deeper into the words inked on the pages.

This was a journal maintained by men of faith, logging the events in Norwich, from somewhere in the mid-ninth century to—carefully, I closed the book and turned it around, so I could see the last pages of it—well into the thirteenth century.

Shit, almost five centuries of history, most of it lost or unknown, logged in extensive details. And in the heart of what used to be East Anglia, one of the Viking’s favored playgrounds. Norwich had even been considered an Anglo-Scandinavian town back then, because of how many Danes had settled there. Their influence had shaped the town of today, in subtle ways like the street patterns.

Almost vibrating with excitement, I looked for a date in particular, skimming the pages from the year 1004. There! The invasion and destruction of the city by Sweyn Forkbeard, a king of Denmark, and his viking army.

I’d expected to skim through most of the works in there, but I found myself returning to the very first page to begin a careful reading of it. With my laptop set up near me, I took notes about details I deemed important, as well as photographs of the pages with my tablet. Even though I was used to reading such findings, the old language and the stylized letters were straining for the eyes and mind, forcing me to pause for a moment half an hour in. It would take entire days to read all this, and it was only one book among hundreds.

Ulrik’s collection was truly insane, large enough to warrant a whole year of studying it all. But I had to manage in the little time I was allowed.

Although… If we were to keep seeing one another in the future, if somehow we could make a relationship work between us, I’d keep access to all of this. If he truly was the great man I suspected, if we found harmony and satisfaction in being together, then all of this was a great side bonus.

But if we weren’t meant to be, then I’d have to say goodbye to all this as well. And as painful as the thought was, I wouldn’t compromise my standards for this.

Even as I sat in this room full of priceless knowledge, still somewhat sore from all his ministrations, still so content with how things had unfolded, I knew I ought to stay true to my principles.

I was worth more than an ancient library and bomb sex. It was a good start, but hopefully, Ulrik had a lot more to offer than just that.

【04】Hard Worker

My phone buzzed next to me, and a glimpse at its screen told me it was Ian calling. The gloves prevented me from picking up, so I frustratedly removed one.

“Hey, boss man,” I greeted him once I’d managed.

“Oi, lass. I just saw yer email. Ye’re not coming back on Monday, then?”

“Oh… Uh, yeah. Ul—Mr. Westergaard insisted that I stayed a little longer, since I didn’t get to finish up.”

“Just how big is that collection of him? Or are ye not working that hard, Mila?”

“I am working fourteen hours a day, you ass.” It wasn’t a lie. Not really. Admittedly, the past twenty-four hours or so had been rather unproductive, but the days before had been filled with work and nothing else. I dismissed my guilty conscience to add, “It’s just that big. You should see the room I’m in right now. You should see the book I’m reading.”

“Wait, I’ll call ye back with the video thing.”

Before I could say anything else, he hung up. Well, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to him, but I would rather get back to reading… The phone buzzed in my hand again, so I picked up his video call.

It was good to see his bearded face, so the smile I offered him was genuine. Behind him, I recognized his living room, easily recognizable given the peculiar interior design tastes of his wife—bright colors and overwhelming patterns. I was reminded then that it was Saturday, but thankfully, I’d taken the time to dress professionally. Ian might have gotten suspicious if he’d found me working in my pajamas.

“Hey there, Scotsman.”

“Hi, American girl. How are things going for ye?”

“Quite well. I’ve finally entered the paper archive room.”

“And?”

“It’s even better than I imagined. I picked a random book, which is probably far from the best one here, but it’s insanely good. Look.” I switched to the back camera so he could see what was before me and showed him the ancient codex.

“What’s it about?”

“It’s a detailed log of the events that occurred in Norwich, from 854 to 1283.”

“Ye’re shitting me.” His utter shock was amusing, betraying just how passionate he was about his job—meaning almost as much as I was.

“I’m really not. I’ve barely scratched the surface, but there are so many mentions of the Dane settlement north of the River Wensum. There’s also been a couple of mentions of the settlement that’s growing south of the bank. It talks about the agreements between the Norfolks and the locals, how they make it work… It’s fascinating.”

“It sounds like it. Mind smuggling that one back over here, so I can get a look as well?”

His mischievous tone made me laugh. “Mullins would have my head if I stole anything from Mr. Westergaard. I can’t lose my job, man. I have the best boss ever.”

“Right, it’s not worth losing ye, lass.”

“I’ll give you a full report, though,” I offered. “And I’m also taking pictures of the most interesting pages. So far, it’s been this one priest logging everything, and a lot of it isn’t that interesting Viking-wise. I’m saving the parts that are, though.”

“See, that’s why I canny lose ye…”

“I know it’s your day off, but do you want me to read you some bits?”

“Aye. The wife is out shopping with the bairns—I got time for it.”

Settling my phone to the side, I began reading aloud. The call lasted for a little over an hour, during which we excitedly discussed some of the most fascinating details. This codex was precious in many ways, as it not only gave us a chronologically accurate recount of the events, but it also showcased the way East Anglians had become accustomed to the Scandinavian invaders. Vikings had brought their own knowledge and culture to the table, like the smoking of meats or fish, and both parties had benefited from the settlements.

It was a shame that we were doing this on a Saturday, because I was certain Ingrid would have loved hearing about all these things as well. She’d have to make do with the photograph I had taken, and I would fill her on the rest. As for Henry, He probably would have loved to take a good look at the leather binding and the pages, running a few tests to confirm this book’s authenticity.

Even though I was having the time of my life over here in Norway, discovering things no historians had studied before me, I was missing my coworker and the ambiance at the museum. I’d stumbled on a great team, and I loved spending my days with them. The regular calls we’d had weren’t the same, and I missed going out with Henry to eat at Gigi’s Parlour, or how Ian would come back from the break room with a coffee for me every single time.

It was odd to be torn as I was, both wishing I could stay here forever and wanting to get back to London. The best thing would be to send the entire collection there, so I could study it with the support of my colleagues. Ulrik would never agree to it, though, and those pieces were too precious to risk the trip anyway.

Also, going back home would mean I’d get less of him, and I wasn’t quite ready for that yet. But I wouldn’t ever be, would I?

A movement outside the glass room caught my attention from the corner of my eye, and a quick glimpse to the side made my heart hastened in my chest. Ulrik was here, as if my thoughts had materialized him, walking toward the door that led in here. He gave me a charming grin, and something in his eyes made me worry that he might do something revealing as soon as he entered, unaware that I was on the phone since it was just lying next to me.

“Sorry, Ian, I gotta cut this short,” I hastily said.

“Wait, we’re not do—”

Ignoring his protest, I cut the call. The last thing that I needed was for my boss to figure out that the situation had taken a raunchy path between me and the mighty Ulrik Westergaard. I didn’t need a lesson on how unprofessional it was. I knew.

“Hi,” I said with a broad smile as soon as he opened the door.

“Hi there, Miss Connelly.”

“Are you already done?” The hopefulness in my voice made him smile.

“No, I asked for a fifteen-minute recess. Things were getting a little heated.”

He walked all the way to me, almost feline with his natural elegance, and with a hand on the back of my chair and one in front of me on the desk, he bent my way. I granted him the kiss he wanted, a tender peck, and then another quick one before he pulled away.

“Is everything alright for you?”

“So far, so good. This one’s amazing,” I replied, pointing at the codex.

“Ah, it’s the Norwich one, right?”

“Yes. So much information is packed in there. Look, there’s even a map!” Carefully, I flipped the pages to go back to a hand drawn map earlier in the codex. I showed it to him, smiling from ear to ear with excitement. “Did you know that—” My question was cut short, shocked to see him picking up the book to settle it further on the table. “Ulrik, gloves!” I scolded him. “You can’t just—”

This time, it was the way he manhandled me out of the chair that rendered me unable to speak. Before I could say a thing, he flipped me around and pushed me so that my ass was pressed on the desk’s edge.

Something in his eyes sent a flame up my core, heat licking me from within and warming me inside out. Stunned and aroused, I all but stared with parted lips while he moved the chair a little further. He sat there, right in front of me, and my knees buckled when his broad hands reached for my outer thighs, right below the hem of my skirt.

He ran them up, over the tights I was wearing, and I witnessed the way his eyes darkened when they reached the garters clinging high up around my thighs. Gigi’s meddling with my affairs had left me with an abnormal amount of sexy lingerie, and since I’d fully intended on him undressing me at some point today, I’d worn the skimpiest ensemble I owned. One I hadn’t expected him to see so early, though.

His leisure gestures switched into something more efficient, probably motivated to find out what this was about. He eagerly raised my skirt, making it bunch at my waist, right above the garter belt, exploding the matching thong and garters. It was red, see-through, lacy, and very much to his taste, it seemed.

“Fucking hell, Mila. I should have asked them for an hour,” he mumbled, his eyes gliding over the lingerie over and over.

“I mean… You’re the boss, it’s not like they’ll fire you if you’re late.”

His cocky smirk and the promise in his gaze made me press my knees together. The codex, the room, work… It was all gone from my mind, replaced by a keen desire to spend the rest of the afternoon having sex with him.

“First, let’s see what I can get done in thirteen minutes,” he countered.

His hands wasted no time reaching for my thong, which he pulled down my legs. As I removed the gloves to throw them on the table, I lifted a foot, slipping it out of its ballerina flat, then the other, so he could remove my underwear entirely. When the lacy thing was off, he balled it into his hand and brought it to his nose, inhaling my scent. My insides throbbed at the sight, wetness already gathering at my entrance. The man was naughty, and his obsession with me matched mine with him.

“I’ll be keeping that,” he mischievously said, slipping the garment into the front pocket of his slacks. “Now, sit,” he ordered, loosening his tie.

Well, given our position with him seated before me, it wasn’t hard to guess what he had in mind. After a quick look behind to make sure there was enough room, I rose on the tip of my feet to settle my behind on the desk, dutifully obeying his command. Then, anticipating what he’d demand next, I lifted a foot to rest it on the armrest of his chair, and then the other one, offering him a splendid view of my humid folds. The lights in here were rather intense, so they left no room for imagination.

Modesty might have kicked in at some point, but the utter appreciation on his face nearly undid me. He was looking at my pussy like it was a work of art, like, of all the things in the collection surrounding us, it was the most precious and perfect thing.

Now, if he could stop admiring and start acting, that’d be great.

“Your thirteen minutes are running,” I reminded him, spreading my legs a little more.

“Eager, are we?”

“Well, I really want to get back to work,” I teased, solely because that crooked smirk of his pushed me to.

He chuckled low, his hands reaching up to cup my outer thighs. “You little brat. Work will be the last thing on your mind when I’m done with you.”

With that, he finally lowered his face toward my core, making me bite my lower lip in anticipation.

Work was already the last thing on my mind, really…

【05】Temptress of a Woman

Ulrik

Work had become a tedious task, demanding an attention I couldn’t give because it belonged to her . I’d been half there the entire time, hearing but not listening to what the lawyers, my associates, or the Weston’s brothers were saying.

How could I, when all I wanted to do was head downstairs and spend time with her? Even just to stand in a corner and watch her marvel at the writings, even just to see her gorgeous face all focused on the inscriptions, to see her eyes light up with excitement. But if I was being honest with myself, I’d probably be too engrossed in her aura, and we’d end up fucking in the archives.

Instead of watching her sleep for an hour upon waking up, I should have pulled her out of her slumber. I should have anticipated that I’d need to have her before starting my day. Even just to shove my face between her legs and have her taste be the first one on my tongue.

The mere idea of it, of waking her up with my mouth on her beautiful cunt, was enough to send a surge of blood rushing to my groin. Shit, I was already too far gone with her.

The nerve of this woman… Her audacity… She’d robbed me of my autonomy, clogging my mind, making my body long for hers.

“Mr. Westergaard?”

Ripping my mind away from the thought of her, I returned my attention to the screen. Eight faces were neatly arranged in their respective boxes, all waiting for me to say something. Fuck, I’d dissociated for the past few minutes, and had no idea what I was supposed to say.

“My apologies. Could you repeat the question?” I asked, aware it was the third time since we’d started.

“Mr. Weston insists that our experts have undervalued the lots in New York by half a million each, on average. He argues we must have a third expertise done. Would you object to that?”

Those two were seriously pissing me off. Greedy fuckers who’d run their late father’s empire in the ground in less than a decade. Now, I was their only chance at redemption, meaning they had to milk as many millions out of me as they could if they wanted to live the rest of their lives up to the lavish standards they were used to.

“No, we will not have a third appraisal firm look into the New York lots. The second one was a courtesy, and you recommended them, Mr. Weston. They came up with the same numbers as the one we contracted, so we’ll leave it at that. I will not spend the next two years trying out every single real estate expert in New York until the numbers please you.”

Arthur and Theodore Weston both looked appalled by my firmness. Honestly, I was done with this. What was supposed to be a quick and simple friendly buyout was turning into a time-consuming nightmare, and I had better things to do.

Like joining the lovely creature currently scavenging my library downstairs. Was she absorbed in her readings? I could almost imagine her, sitting in her pretty little skirt and blouse, attentively reading one of the old codex, biting her lower lip as she did when she focused intently.

From what I knew of her, she would feel the need to share and discuss her discoveries, to express her passion for history, excited to tell someone about her findings. And I longed to be that person, to be there with her, to entertain her awe and wonder.

“Ulrik?” Monica called this time.

Fuck!

“Mr. Westergaard, must I remind you we’re all here on a Saturday because you left abruptly on Thursday?” Arthur Weston said with what I supposed was meant to be intimidating authority. “We could have been done with all this had you stayed, but now we all have to spend our day off doing—”

“Let me stop you right there,” I cut him, annoyed by his attempt at getting the upper hand. “You and your brother have been an absolute pain to deal with from the beginning. I’m not seeing anyone else rushing to acquire your dying corporation, regardless of what you say. My people have looked into your claims, and we’ve found nothing substantial—not in the two years you’ve been trying to sell. At this point, a hostile takeover would have required less time, effort, and money than those tedious negotiations. I’m not opposed to taking that route—on the contrary. So, spare me your sanctimonious monologues and get a grip.”

The shock on everyone’s faces told me I might have gone too far, but I couldn’t care less. Either those two stopped grasping at straws and agreed to sell before the day was over, or I was done.

“Mr. Westergaard, you can’t—”

“Oh, I can, and I would. All I have to do is sit back and wait another year, enough for you two dimwits to finish the job. And then, when you’ve fucked so badly that no one would touch your corporation with a ten-foot pole, I’ll get everything for a quarter of what I’m offering. And I mean everything . The company but also your mansions, your precious yacht, the family jet… I’ll get it all.”

This time, even Monica was stunned. She’d seldom seen me short-tempered, so this was understandably surprising to her. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down out of respect for everyone who’d been working so hard on making this merger happen.

“Now, if you would like to avoid any of that, settle for the very generous sum we’ve adjusted since our original offer. You will not get a better one, not from us or anyone else. And the more you wait, the lower that number will get.”

Silence persisted, everyone still processing my unexpected words.

“How about we all take fifteen?” I offered.

“Brilliant idea,” Monica agreed, nodding before checking her screen’s corner. “We’ve been at it for over two hours. We all could use a break.”

They all nodded—even the Weston brothers, who were still trying to understand what had just happened to them. Refusing to waste another second with this, I quickly logged out. Less than a minute later, I was going through the gallery downstairs, on my way to the reserve.

I spotted Mila immediately when I entered, sitting at the table inside the glass room, her eyes focused on the old pages of a thick book. She sensed me, or she heard or saw me, and the instant her gaze lifted my way, all the Westons’ bullshit faded away. The pent-up frustration dissipated at once when our eyes met, hers going round with surprise.

When I came in, she greeted me with a luminous smile, getting rid of whatever remnants of work might have lingered in my mind. As much as I tried not to initiate something we wouldn’t be able to finish, I couldn’t help the strong desire that dimmed out all other thoughts. This temptress of a woman was robbing me of every ounce of self-control I possessed.

Before I knew it, I was seated in the warm chair she’d just been in, running my hands beneath her skirt, enjoying the softness of her thighs through her tights, delighted by her flushed expression. When my hands reached the pair of garters she was hiding under that proper skirt of hers, arousal nearly made me feral.

More of what she was wearing below her very proper attire revealed itself when I pulled the skirt up to her waist, and I stared at the red lace barely covering her, my cock twitching below my trousers’ zipper, already hard and begging for her.

“Fucking hell, Mila. I should have asked them for an hour,” I mumbled. The trimmed curls of her mound were visible through the sheerness of the fabric, and the way her higher thighs dipped around the garters, as well as her perfect little navel right above the belt, were pure art. I wanted to engrave this sight into my brain, to remember it forever.

“I mean… You’re the boss,” she started, her voice slightly uneven, “it’s not like they’ll fire you if you’re late.”

My naughty history nerd …

As tempting as it was to agree with her, I had some shit to get back to. We’d have more time later. Now was only a little mise-en-bouche , to build up our excitement for tonight.

“First, let’s see what I can get done in thirteen minutes.”

She helped me get rid of her underwear, which I couldn’t help but smell once it was off. Everything about her was intoxicating, and the reminder that she wouldn’t always be there made my chest tighten. We had now. We had until she was willing to have me, and it would need to be enough.

As eager as I was to get on with this, she sat on the desk when I ordered her to, and then settled her feet on each side of me, spreading herself enough for me to witness her growing arousal. That perfect little cunt of her was already sleek with want, her folds glistening with it. Just seeing it and the way she so shamelessly owned it made me legitimately consider bailing out from the rest of the call. Spending the rest of my afternoon with my head between her legs was a lot more appealing.

This too, I wanted to remember forever. Every vulva was unique in its own way, impossible to guess until the privilege to see it was granted. I’d certainly felt blessed upon seeing it for the first time, even though she’d quickly shoved it onto me, sitting on my face.

It was the first time I could properly admire it, though, given the privileged venture point and the proper lightning. The skin there was darker than the rest of her body, and the delicate folds that spanned from her outer lips were an array of pink shades. It was amusing to see that this part of her matched her boldness, as her small labias didn’t shy away from the gaze, framing that warm and silky-soft slit of hers with pride despite being slightly asymmetrical, guiding the eye toward her clit. The little nub was hard to miss, poking out from its protective hood, already swollen to some extent. And a little higher, the dark curls that adorned her pubis, carefully styled into a triangle. Although I had no say in how she preferred to keep her pubic hair, it pleased me that she kept a decent portion of it instead of shaving it all—a trend that had always displeased me, the reminder that society had succeeded at shaming women for having something as elementary as body hair.

As I took in the beautiful vision she offered, a romantic part of me hoped I would forget all other cunts, so hers was the only one that remained. The only one I’d ever seen when I closed my eyes.

“Your thirteen minutes are running,” she urged.

“Eager, are we?”

“Well, I want to get back to work.”

Oh, that cheeky little… Now I had no other choice but to give her what she deserved. My hands rose to settle on her thighs, grazing the tight-covered skin.

“You little brat. Work will be the last thing on your mind when I’m done with you.”

The cocky smirk she gave me somehow made me want her even more. But as soon as I lowered toward her core, our eyes still planted into one another’s, it went away, replaced by her pearly white teeth digging into her lower lip.

Her fragrance reached my nostrils when I came close, maddening enough to make my cock throb. I’d never get my fill of her, would I? Not in thirteen minutes, and not in a lifetime, either.

【06】Feeling Generous

Ulrik

I was still trapped by the depth of her gaze when I reached my destination, so I witnessed the way it darkened when I ran my tongue over her glistening entrance. Starved for her sweet taste, I lapped at her until the wetness was gone, smiling at the way I could feel her thighs tremble under my hands. She was so fucking reactive, so sensitive to my touch… it made me never want to stop.

The link of our eyes was broken when I moved to her perky little clit, sucking on it hard enough to make her head fall back with a sigh. With my lips surrounding it and maintaining a soft suction, I flicked my tongue over the smooth surface of it, alternating the pattern often enough that she never knew what would come next. I could feel it pulse, and I knew that if I moved back enough to glimpse down, I would also see her pussy clench.

My hands slid from her thighs to her ass, to beyond the tights and the garters, where her bare skin was soft and warm. I pulled her closer to the edge of the desk, so the angle was better for my own comfort. Hours. I could spend hours doing exactly this, and then I’d beg for more.

When I increased the pressure of my tongue on her swollen clit, she moaned my name in a raspy, breathy way that made me reconsider this. Maybe I should use the little time we had to fuck her instead, as I’d head back upstairs with a severe case of blueballs otherwise. I even had a condom in my pocket—a precaution I’d taken upon getting ready. However, that would mean letting go of her taste, and I wasn’t ready for that yet.

Her thighs quivered by my sides, betraying how fast she was climbing, so I released her to draw wide circles around her aching nub instead and slow things down. But she was a demanding woman, and she never failed to ask for the pleasure I owed her. Leaning back on one elbow, she sent a hand in my hair and clasped it, making electric shivers crawl from my scalp to down my spine. Like the greedy thing she was, she tried to pull me where she needed me, but I resisted.

Instead, I lowered to run my tongue along her slit, where more wetness had gathered. When I pushed it inside her, I reveled in the way her insides quiverer. Her legs spread wider, her hips slowly rolling in a voluptuous way. It was as though everything in her was built to drive me mad with want, her natural sensuality one of the most erotic things I’d ever seen.

Having in mind to savor her like the fine woman she was, I leisurely licked and kissed every inch of her cunt, suckling on her labia, feasting on her taste, feeding on her sighs.

“Ulrik,” she begged again, using her feet on the armrests of the chair to shove herself harder onto me.

“You want to come, Mila?”

“You know I do…” Her grip on my hair tightened, sending a spark of pain that transformed into a delightful sensation. When I didn’t show any haste to comply, she groaned with frustration. “You’re fucking insufferable.”

I chuckled low, my breath fanning across her core. How could she be so starved when I’d given her so many orgasms in the past twenty-four hours? But then, here I was, bricked up and ready to have her again, as I’d I hadn’t been ejaculating enough cum to fill a small glass in that same timeframe.

We were just that insatiable when it came to one another.

“You’re too fucking greedy for your own good,” I told her, drawing a slow circle right around her clit. “It hasn’t even been five minutes.”

“That’s four too many.”

Thinking this could become a teachable moment, I contained my smile and changed tactics. She arched against the desk when I wrapped my lips around her pulsing bud again and moaned when my tongue swept across it. I gave her exactly what she’d wanted, pressing two fingers on her pulsing entrance. They slid inside her with ease, her walls slick with wetness, relaxed and welcoming.

“Yes, right there,” she moaned, arching against the wood of the desk, giving me more access to her.

Just in case she believed I required guidance, I showed her where she actually needed me, pressing against that sweet spot located on her front wall, near the inner part of where my mouth was still actively sucking on her clit. I could feel her involuntary throbbing around my knuckles. The textured, wet, silk-like channel spasmed onto itself. Her soft cries followed the rhythm of her hectic breath, her hand clutching my hair, her hips rolling madly.

Then, for an instant, it all stopped. Her entire body flexed, her cries halting, and her flesh squeezed my fingers together hard. Her stillness lasted for about two seconds, and then she jolted before me, her body arching and buckling against the desk, her cries echoing in the space, her cunt spasming erratically. More wetness came, coating my fingers as I kept sucking on her clit, licking the pulsing nub with eagerness.

Making women come had always been a pleasant and entertaining endeavor, but making her come… It was a whole new thing, an experience that brought me nearly as much satisfaction as she was getting. Knowing that the beautiful Mila Connelly, the feisty little brat who’d haunted me for weeks, was coming undone from my ministrations, brought me pride and content.

As I kept pumping my fingers into her, stretching her orgasm as much as I could, I found myself hoping this could be enough, that our perfect sexual match would make her need me enough to stay, to decide this probation period was worth giving me a proper shot. But I knew better—I knew her better—and there was no way she’d let something as elementary as physical gratification matter more than the rest. She had to be won over the right way; I had to get my act right to show her what she could expect from me for a different kind of intimacy. The kind of partner I would be, not just a fuck buddy.

When her breathy sighs hindered, so did my tongue and fingers, slowly helping her down her high. Her thighs released me, her sigh of content enchanting. She was lax, satisfied to have peaked so high and so hard. Even though I’d regained my freedom, I didn’t move away from her, still softly licking her throbbing flesh. The hand in my hair unclutched, and she gently grazed it, lowering it to caress my temple, then my cheek. I released her to drop a kiss on her palm instead, and then looked up to meet her hooded eyes. Our gazes remained locked as I took my time laying pecks on every inch of her satiated cunt.

“Isn’t it your turn?” she languorously asked.

“No, it’s still your turn, love. I’m feeling generous today.”

“Well… Good for me.”

The little smile she gave me told me she had no idea what I had in store for her, and I was forced to hide my cunning smirk, lowering to lick her entrance.

I took my sweet, sweet time, softly playing with her clit, kissing, nibbling, licking her beautiful pussy… While I had a hand on her thigh, I sent the other one up to fondle her breast, finding a peaked tip under the silk of her shirt and the lace of her bra to twist and pull it. The sounds she was making were intoxicating, making my cock throb. I didn’t even need to look down to know there was a stain on my trousers; I knew my tip was wet with precum. Truly, I could spend hours doing exactly that and be the most content of men. To my dislike, I didn’t have hours. In fact, I was even running out of time.

She didn’t suspect a thing when I focused on her aching bud again, letting out what resembled a delighted purr instead. Her thighs quivered at my sides when I sucked a little harder.

“How are you so fucking good at this?” she moaned, her hand returning to my hair.

I bit back a grin, moving away slightly so that I could answer, “Practice,” and check on my watch. Two minutes left.

My fingers returned to her entrance, pushing into her willing flesh with a firm trust as I pinched her nipple a little harder. She shuddered with a small cry, arching against the desk again. I did everything right, brought her nearly all the way to her climax, but as she began chanting my name and moaning that she was about to come, I stopped it all.

“Ulrik,” she protested, seeking my eyes with a disoriented expression plastered on her face.

“Sorry, I need to get back upstairs or I’ll be late.”

Her jaw dropped a full inch, her lush lips parted with disbelief. Struggling to hide my amusement, I kissed the inside of her thigh before grabbing her leg to move it to the side so I could stand from the chair.

“Are you serious right now?” she asked, still trying to process things.

“Yes, the thirteen minutes are up. We’ll continue tonight.”

“You—you asshole… You can’t give me the best head I’ve ever had and then leave me hanging like this.”

She was remarkably pretty, all flushed as she was, her lower half still exposed, with her enticing lingerie and the little triangle of curls at the apex of her toned legs. Fuck, I wanted to finish her off, and finish myself off in the same go. But the desire to make her pay for the way she’s completely stolen my mind was strong. I wanted her to sit there and think of me the entire time, like I’d been doing in my office. I wanted her to ache for me, to think of when I would come back to fuck her as she so desired.

Also, the brat tamer in me wanted her to know she’d done this to herself by being so damn bossy and greedy—which I absolutely adored.

“Next time, you’ll let me take my time, kjære . You’re the one who hurried me when I had timed everything in my head.”

Her mouth opened even wider, as if offended. “So, you’re punishing me?”

Unable to stop myself, I bent toward her, smirking. “No, I’m teaching you a lesson.”

“Which is?”

“That brats get tamed.” I took her by surprise with a hungry kiss, my tongue brushing against hers briefly before pulling away. I was already on my way to the door when I said, “I will see you later, Miss Connelly.”

She was still sitting on the desk with her skirt bunched at her waist when I glanced at her one last time through the glass as I walked away. As soon as I was out of her sight, I slipped a hand into my pocket, grazing the fine lace shoved in there.

As frustrated as she might be, I hoped she realized this was as hard for me as it was for her. She couldn’t have missed the fucking tent I was pitching in my slacks. And at least she’d come once, which was more than I could say for myself. But not only was teasing her one of my favorite things to do, I also knew that delayed gratification was one of the best rewards one could get. Tonight, when we’d both be panting and spent after so much fucking we might pass out, she’d understand that none of this was punishment, even if it might feel like it.

Now, it was time for me to get this Weston shit sorted, and fast. Couldn’t be healthy to sport such a raging hard-on for an entire afternoon.

【07】The Conference Call

That man… That fucking, teasing, infuriating, domineering man…

With my knees pressed together, I wriggled on my chair for the tenth time in the past five minutes. Between my legs, my clit kept pulsing with every beat of my heart, restless and needy. I wasn’t used to being teased like this, to being edged and denied. In all truth, I wasn’t even the kind to do it to a man either. I was too impatient for those games. I didn’t handle waiting too well.

A groan rumbled in my throat as I reread the same line again. I’d been stuck on this paragraph for a solid minute, and I still hadn’t processed any of it. How could I focus, when all I could think of was Ulrik’s handsome face between my legs, this agile tongue pleasuring me, his intense eyes looking up into mine as he did? I could still feel his fingers pumping in and out of me, pressing exactly where it felt so damn good.

Ugh, he was such a dick for leaving me hanging like this. My afternoon was now ruined, my mind too clogged to keep working. Unless I finally got what I needed. Which I didn’t need him for, did I? I was a big girl, and my pleasure was my own. I’d always been great at taking care of it myself.

Since it was my only chance to get more work done this afternoon, I pushed the chair back a little with a sigh. I threw away the gloves and slipped my fingers under the hem of my form-fitting skirt. For the second time, the now wrinkled fabric ended up bunched at my waist, baring my lower half. My underwear was still with him, leaving me exposed to the regulated air of the room. Between the racy lingerie and the business clothes, I felt sexy as hell. How could he pass on this? How could he not have gone feral with want?

A little offended, I grabbed my phone and opened my conversation with him. The app we used was renowned for how safe their encrypted messages were, so I didn’t hesitate too long before opening the camera. Maybe my horniness was making me a little unhinged, because how I acted next was as close to insanity as I’d ever been.

With a leg hooked over the armrest of my chair, I posed in a sultry way and angled the phone up. It wasn’t good enough, so I made some adjustments, unbuttoning enough of my silk blouse to expose the assorted bra underneath it, and undoing my casual bun so my hair was resting in waves over my shoulder. I hadn’t taken that many sexy pics in my life, but enough to know what worked best and how to get it right.

This time, when I looked at the result on my screen, I smiled coyly at it. That ought to make him regret leaving me high and dry as he’d done. I snapped a picture, leaving most of my face out of it and arching my back slightly. For now, I didn’t show him everything , stopping just above my curly mound. All he had was my tousled state, from my lips to below my garter belt, with my silk shirt opened and my bra exposed. But he knew my thong was in his pocket, so he’d know exactly how bare I was outside of the shot. Since it was mild enough, I didn’t hesitate too much before hitting Send.

Looking at it with unmasked pride, I sat back in the chair and waited, chewing on my lower lip to contain my smile. I watched as the “received” icon appeared, and then how it changed to “seen” a few seconds later. My fingers trailed a soft path down my neck, following my collarbone, then down the red lace of my bra, delicately caressing the smooth inner curve of my breast. Shivers spread inside me when I saw him typing, my grin widening. I could be a tease, too. I could drive him mad.

His text came in, and I almost giggled with excitement.

Mila, what are you doing?

Teaching you a lesson in return

, I replied one handed. Then, I pushed the lace of my bra to the side and snapped another picture, shamelessly sending him my nipple. I was so lost in this, I didn’t even stop to consider if any of it was a good idea.

I could almost visualize him trying to keep a straight face during his conference call, doing his best to not let his arousal show. Because even if I had a lot more to learn about this man, his desire for me was impossible to doubt. He wanted me as much as I wanted him, and these pictures ought to drive him mad.

And what would that lesson be?

That this brat can’t be tamed.

This time, the picture I sent was one of my hand lowering down my stomach, below the garter belt circling my waist.

And that one way or another, I always get what I want.

I had never felt naughtier in my life than when I slipped two fingers into my drenched intimacy, shivering at the sensation. Ten minutes had passed since he’d left, but it might as well have been ten seconds, given how sensitive I still was. I thrust my fingers inside me a few times, pressing the flesh at the base of my thumb on my clit, nearly making myself moan with satisfaction. Still completely absorbed by this little game we were playing, I snapped a final picture, one that I hoped would haunt him for the rest of his life.

As it was sending, I dismissed once more the doubts that tried to break through the hazy fog of lust. Maybe it wasn’t that great an idea to have a picture of me fingering myself out there, but damn, it seemed worth it at the moment. And if, somehow, these ever got out, I’d have his balls for it, which he was surely aware of.

My eyes remained on the screen as I kept playing with myself, waiting for his reply with eagerness. But it didn’t come, and my entertained expression slowly turned into a scowl. Had I failed? Was he not as affected as I’d anticipated?

Disappointment took me out of the seductive mood I’d been in, so I slipped my fingers out of my pussy. Maybe I wasn’t as good at those games as I’d thought.

As if to disprove me, a sound came from outside the glass room, and when I looked, I found a very affected Ulrik. He sent me a darkened glance, his face closed-off and impossible to read. Was he mad? Was he horny? Was he both?

When he nearly slammed the door open, I decided he was both. “Mila bloody Connelly,” he groaned, stepping inside, “you will be my fucking death.”

In three strides, he was with me, pulling me off the chair as he reached down to press an insistent kiss on my lips. Within seconds, it was as though he’d never left, and we were tugging and pulling, doing our best to devour one another. I ended up seated on the desk again after he’d gotten rid of the codex, with him standing between my spread legs. We fumbled together with his pants to get them to open, our gesture frantic. As soon as it was, I pushed them down while he pulled out a condom from his back pocket. His hands were almost trembling when he rolled the latex down his length. Clearly, my pictures had worked a little too well.

I was still wet from his earlier ministrations, but his size was intimidating enough to make me wonder if it would be sufficient. Just in case it wasn’t, I brought my hand up to my mouth and licked my fingers, from the index to the ring one, coating them with a generous serve of saliva, before reaching for his sheathed dick. I spread it on his latex-clad head, not resisting the urge to tease him as I did.

“You’ve driven me mad enough as it is,” he mumbled through gritted teeth, pushing my hand away to replace it with his. I grabbed his tie, pulling on it to bring him down so his forehead would rest against mine.

“An eye for an eye, Norseman.”

His round head met the damp entrance between my legs, and instead of giving us what we both wanted, he ran it up and down my folds, bringing jolts of pleasure every time he grazed against my clit. There was no need to beg him to take me, though, as it seemed his urgency matched mine.

With one rough, implacable shove, he slammed the entirety of his cock inside of me, swallowing my surprised cry with his lips. An electric shiver spread from where we joined to my limbs, making me tremble in his embrace.

“There,” he grunted against my lips. “Is this what you wanted?”

“It’s a good start.” My tongue darted out to lick his upper lip while my hands grabbed hold of his ass, pulling him closer. “Fuck me like you mean it, Ulrik. Punish me for being such a needy brat.”

“Giving you exactly what you want doesn’t qualify as punishment, love.”

“I’m sure we can make something work.”

Slowly enough for me to feel every last vein under the condom, he pulled out, leaving only the tip in me, before ramming back in abruptly. That pushed another shocked scream out of my lungs, making my fingers dig harder into his firm behind. Shit, why did it feel like weeks since we’d last fucked, instead of half a day? Why was everything so fucking intense with him?

I lifted my knees against his sides, hooking my ankles behind him, and pressed my hands on his chest to push him away slightly, just enough to glimpse down at where all those delirious sensations were igniting. We watched together for a moment, and he slowed his thrust for us to enjoy the sight. This could never be boring to look at, the way his girth spread me, how my pussy welcomed so much of him, how good it all felt…

When he’d had enough of this slow pace, his rhythm steadily built up again. Soon, the pleasure distracted me, pushing me to press my lips on his shoulder to muffle my moans on the pricey fabric of his jacket. I sensed his hand on my neck, fisting my hair, and when he pulled down on it harshly, I cried out helplessly, my insides pulsing around him at the dominant gesture.

“Don’t be shy now, Mila. I want to hear it all, to hear you scream my name, to feed on your every moan and whimper.”

“Ulrik…” I pleaded, grabbing onto his shoulders.

The fact that he was still entirely dressed was surprisingly hot, for some reason. I was wearing all of my clothes too—aside from my panties—but so much more exposed than he was, with my blouse opened and my skirt pushed high up. Ulrik took advantage of that, slipping my shirt and bra to the side to expose my right breast. Still keeping up with the intense pace he’d set, he lowered to welcome the perky tip into his mouth.

Heat was rapidly gathering between my legs, the pleasure he was bringing building up with every thrust. After one last pull on my nipple, his large hand came to rest flat on my chest, in the opening of my shirt, and he pushed against it, inviting me to lie back. I obeyed, making sure I wouldn’t damage anything behind me, and wrapped my legs around his waist for balance. He removed his jacket, still deeply planted into me, and something told me shit was about to get real. His devoted gaze was raking over me the entire time he did it, so like the temptress I was, I unbuttoned my shirt a little more and spread it on my shoulders, to expose more of my bra and the nipples beneath the sheer lace.

A low moan rolled in my chest when he gave me a harsh shove from this new angle, not showing any mercy. Holding on to my hips with the firm grip of his hands, he resumed his thrusts, harder than before. My breasts bounced up with each of his powerful shoves, and he seemed as if mesmerized by them, his blue eyes captivated by the spectacle.

Those naughty little pictures had definitely been worth it. I’d pushed him to his limits, and now he was fucking me with everything he had.

And I was living for it.

“Fuck,” he swore out of the blue, confusing me. This wasn’t a throes of passion kind of curse, but an annoyed one.

Befuddled, I saw him take his phone out of his pocket, realizing only now that it was vibrating. He stared down at the screen, his brows furrowed with discontent.

“Don’t make a sound,” he ordered, right before picking up the call.

My eyes rounded with shock as I watched him bring it up to his ear. What the…

“Yes?” he harshly said into the phone, slowly resuming his thrusts. “My internet went out. I’m trying to fix it.”

Oh… so that was his excuse for leaving his meeting so abruptly?

“Right now?” he then asked, not hiding his irritation very well. “Give me a second.”

Still confused, I stared while he pushed a button on his screen before setting the phone on the desk beside me. His hand returned to my hip to hold me right where he wanted me. “Alright, you’re on speakers now,” he declared with a clear voice.

“Perfect, everyone can hear you on this side, too,” a woman replied. I knew this voice—I’d heard it before. It was the woman who’d picked up that time I’d called him. Her name was Monica, wasn’t it? “We just need to settle this issue before Mr. Weston has to leave for his lunch meeting.”

More people spoke through the phone, and my cheeks burned with a mix of arousal and mortification.

Understandably, I was a little lost, wondering how I’d gone from climbing to a mind-blowing orgasm to holding back my every whimper, so no one in his very important meeting realized what the hell he was doing. The reasonable part of me wanted to stop this altogether, but the naughty one refused to. And Ulrik wasn’t showing any sign of halting either, inflicting long and deep thrust onto me, somehow managing not to make our bodies slap as they had been before, keeping all this very silent.

He was proving to be amazing at multitasking, handling his meeting while fucking me thoroughly, switching tempos, angles, depths… His eyes were all over me, raking up and down my sprawled body, from where we joined all the way to my eyes. I could read all the filthy thoughts in his, but they never transpired in his voice. The few times he spoke, he seemed composed and professional, definitely not letting it show that he was balls deep into a woman.

The woman in question, though, wasn’t doing so great at containing herself.

There was something about this situation, about the forbiddenness of it, that somehow made it terribly hot. Knowing that he couldn’t stop fucking me even in this crucial moment inflated my ego, and the risk of getting caught added a substantial portion of thrill to it. I was so focused on controlling my breathing and reactions that I barely followed what was going on in his meeting.

When he gave me a harsher shove, hitting where it felt so fucking good, I barely managed to hold back a moan, turning it into a strangled whimper. His hands at my hips squeezed the flesh as he gave me a warning look, in which I read amusement. I bit the inside of my cheek with a frown, closing my eyes to focus.

Before I could get a hang on things, the soft tip of his thumb came to rest on my clit, making my eyes whip open again. If his goal was to keep me silent, he was going at it wrong. It was my turn to give him a warning glare, my hand snatching his wrist. Of course, he took that as a challenge.

This fucking man…

Despite my attempts at moving his hand out of harm’s way, I was no match for his strength and determination. Still pumping in and out of me, he teased my clit just the right way, spreading delirious shivers and jolts in my body, making my nipples pebble hard and my thighs clench against his sides. Another moan escaped me, and before I could send a hand to my lips to muffle the next ones, his wide palm came to cover the lower half of my face.

I stared into his eyes, bemused, confused, and aroused, as he expertly brought me all the way to the climax I craved. When finally, the combination of his unsparing cock and his deft thumb made me tilt, I slapped my hands over his, to muffle the very loud, very un-discreet orgasm that struck me. I shivered on the desk, arching against the wood, and when my hips began buckling, he flattened his free hand on my lower stomach to steady me. That made everything even better—or worse—somehow intensifying the pressure of his lengthy girth against my walls.

Despite being lost in bliss, I noticed how his face scrunched with restraint, his lips pressed into a harsh line as he did his best to hold back his own reactions. None of this was how I had expected this afternoon to evolve into. There must have been ten other people indirectly involved, holding their little meeting, oblivious to what was happening on the other end of the phone call.

When the pleasure eventually receded, when I could control myself again, Ulrik slowly released my lips, allowing me to take slow and long gasps of air. I did my best not to pant audibly, but it was hard to keep holding everything back. It seemed that he was of the same opinion, because he grabbed his phone by my side.

“The router is resetting,” he said into it, interrupting whoever was talking. His voice was rough, and if anything so far might have given away what we’d be doing, it was this. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll be back on the call.”

“Alright, we’ll—”

Whatever Monica wanted to say was lost when his thumb abruptly cut the call. Then, finally, his entire attention was on me again.

“You did so good, darling,” he praised, not hiding his content smirk, his hands snaking their way up my tousled state to fondle my breasts. “Now, let’s get this finished, shall we?”

When he pulled out, stepping back, I didn’t even have time to wonder what he had in mind. With efficient moves, he got me to flip around on the desk, smacking my ass with a dry hand as soon as it was accessible. Shivers and tingles traveled from the heated skin he’d slapped to everywhere else, surprising in their intensity. The soft tap of his shoe on the inner part of my ankle made me spread my leg, and I did so with the other one before he could ask for it, too.

He slammed into me again from behind, knocking the air out of my lungs. His hand gathered my hair, wrapping it around his palm before pulling my head back, making me moan and pulse around him. Next thing I knew, his body lowered onto mine, his warm breath fanning across the shell of my ear.

“Not hearing you come was remarkably frustrating. Scream my name, Mila.” With that, he gave me a deep, powerful shove, slamming his hips against my ass.

“Make me,” I defiantly replied.

“Oh, I will, kjære … I so fucking will.”

And he really did. Multiple times in the three minutes it took to make me come again as he followed me into ecstasy this time.

The next few days would probably not be the most productive of my life, but oh well…

A girl was allowed to have some fun.

【08】The View Was Splendid

Lingering in bed with Ulrik on Sunday was in a league of its own. First, it started with waking up to his mouth dropping soft and lazy kisses on my bare shoulder, his breath tickling the delicate skin of my neck. That was a great way to start the day, making me grin wide before I’d even opened my eyes. Then some cuddling, filled with whispers and wandering hands, which had inevitably transformed into slow, lazy morning sex.

Or at least, it had started lazy and slow until I’d flipped us around to straddle him with intensity. Fucking was easy, fucking was uncomplicated, and it didn’t make my heart swell and ache as much. While I was fine with embracing this connection we had, to explore that insane chemistry, I wasn’t entirely ready to put my heart in the balance. Not that I had much of a choice in the matter, as this man had always been so good at tearing down my defenses and getting under my skin.

Shielding my heart wasn’t so simple. Not when all he had to do to steal it was to reach out for it. Good thing he wasn’t aware of it. Not yet.

My phone buzzing pulled us out of the warm cocoon we were wrapped into, ripping us away from our post-orgasmic bliss. “Shit,” I mumbled, reading the text in the notifications.

“What?”

“It’s Gigi. She wants to do some yoga again.”

“Well, you’re already warmed up,” he humorously pointed out.

Pouting like a child, I wriggled closer to him with a whimper. “I don’t wanna go.”

“Won’t she suspect something if you refuse?”

I considered giving it a thought, but the conclusion came fast. “Ugh… She might, yeah.”

His fingers traced random spirals and swirls on my back and shoulder, igniting delightful shivers under the skin he grazed. “Would it help if I came down to work out, too?”

“So, you think having the privilege of watching you work out is an incentive good enough? Maybe you do have an ego problem,” I joked.

His hand found my ribs under the covers, and he pinched me, making me jolt with a giggling squeal. “I meant so you’re not alone, you idiot.”

“I know.” To ease the jab, I kissed the tattooed skin of his pec. “It would help, but don’t feel forced on my account.”

“I don’t mind—on the contrary. It would be good after those few days of chaos.”

“We’ve been keeping up with the cardio alright. Time to lift weights. We’d hate for those muscles to go anywhere.” I ran my hand over the perfect slabs of his abs, very appreciative of them. It might have been shallow of me, but damn, I loved his body as it was. The man behind the skin was as enticing, for sure, but this perfect exterior was very much to my tastes, and my greediness pushed me to want more of it. To want all of it. With a contented sigh, I pushed against his firm stomach to lift myself up.

“Alright, let’s get ready. You’ll get to watch my ass, and I’ll get to watch you be all sexy and strong.”

“Aye, aye, captain.”

Since we’d be all sweaty again soon, we forewent the shower but did some speedy maintenance where our morning sex had left a mess. Dressed in our gym clothes, we made a halt in the kitchen for a quick bite, agreeing that we’d eat adequately later. With our stomachs reasonably full, we then made our way downstairs to the luxurious home gym.

Like I had done the week prior, I took out everything I needed from the hidden closet and settled it in a corner. Ulrik clearly had his own habits, and by the time I dialed Gigi, he was already starting with his warm-up. My friend on the other side of the North Sea was quick to reply, and seeing her bright smile and familiar face filled me with happiness. Although I was having so much fun here in the Westergaard estate, I missed her. She was so much more than my roommate. Gigi was also my best friend and might as well have been a sister to me.

“So, how have you been doing?” she excitedly asked. “You were off all day yesterday.”

“Yes, sorry about that. I finally got to enter the archives and spent the day going over a small portion of them.”

“Did you find anything interesting so far ?”

“Many things, actually. I think Ulrik’s collection holds secrets that were never uncovered before.”

“Oh my God, that’s exciting!”

“I know! That’s why I don’t know yet when I’ll come back to London. I would need at the very least two weeks to go over the archives, but I can’t stay that long away from work. So for now, I will see what I can do and then come home when it feels like I’ve done enough.”

“We miss you here,” she said with a pout.

“And I miss you too. Now, I don’t want to rush you, but should we start?”

“Sure. Put your phone in a way that lets me see him work out again,” she humored.

But I knew it wasn’t entirely a joke, so I indulged with a chuckle. While we started with our stretching, I asked her about how things were at home. To my relief, the cats were doing well, and so was Gigi. Vick was still a strong contender, and hearing her talk about them had me elated for her.

Now and then, my eyes met Ulrik’s in the mirrors, and every time, heat rose within me, aware of the underlying message in his gaze. That insatiable hunger between us was more potent than anything else I’d ever known.

The secretive charade went on for nearly forty-five minutes before Gigi let out a heavy sigh and sat back on her heels.

“Okay, are you really not going to tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“That you and that sexy piece of blond ass are shagging.”

My heart skipped a beat right before hammering in my chest. I should have guessed she’d notice something. She knew me too well. “I’m not—We’re not—”

“Oh please, don’t. It’s offensive enough that you thought I wouldn’t realize, so don’t add lies to the offense.”

I pinched my lips together, looking away from the screen to glimpse at Ulrik in the mirror. He was bench pressing, his earphones still on. “What gave it away?” I asked Gigi, still not daring to look at her.

“Do you want all the clues?”

“Go for it, yeah.”

“Well, first of all, you made zero effort to look alluring, which means he’s already seen you at your worst. And I’ve seen you after sex: that’s your worst.”

“Bitch.”

She smiled, unaffected. “Also, last week, he looked at your arse like he wanted to rip your leggings and see it. But today, he’s looking at it like he already got to.”

“You seriously can tell the difference?” I asked, impressed.

“Yeah. Also, you wince every time we’re doing a minge-stretching exercise.”

Alright, the clues were plentiful. I looked back at Ulrik, who was busy bench-pressing too many plates for me to count.

“So, how was it ?” Gigi impishly asked, wriggling her eyebrows.

“I’m sure you already deduced the answer to that.”

“I think I did, yeah. When did it start? How?”

“Could we finish our session first?” I suggest.

“Ugh, fine. But then you’re telling me everything without sparing a single detail.”

Fifteen minutes later, we were done and doing breathing exercises when Ulrik left the gym. Seeing him leave compelled Gigi to bombard me with a series of questions, which I did my best to answer. But because I had a suspicion that he was waiting for me in the sauna, I eventually cut short my call with her and walked out of the gym.

Since it was the proper etiquette, I quickly showered first and headed to the sauna. As suspected, it was on, and a humid towel was hanging by the door. This time, I didn’t think twice about what to do with mine. Leaving the towel next to his, I entered the sauna brazenly naked. His attention darted to me the instant the door opened, and it never left me all the way to the bench where I sat with my legs crossed, facing him.

We observed one another for several moments, and I reveled in the sight of him with his muscles, tattoos, and perfect body.

“Did you have a good workout?” I asked, compelling his gaze to leave my breasts and meet mine instead.

“I did. And the view was splendid. You?”

“Same. I was still a bit sore, though.”

Something flickered in his tempestuous eyes. “Sore where?”

“Everywhere, but mostly there,” I explained, pointing at my intimacy, shielded from his view by my crossed legs.

“Show me.”

A heat that had nothing to do with the surrounding steam made its way inside me. It was insane to think that we had been in this exact situation merely a week ago, still holding back on our impulses and desires. So now, as I slowly parted my legs for him to look at my folds, I couldn’t help but revel in the drastic changes in our dynamics.

“Should I massage you like I did your ankle last time?” he cleverly suggested.

I shrugged, holding back a grin. “It can’t hurt. Especially if you do it with your tongue.”

He didn’t need a clearer invitation, so he slid down to kneel before me. I adjusted my legs to pass them over his shoulder, and his tongue landed on my clit at the same moment my feet touched the edge of the seat opposite me.

A breathy sigh poured out of me as my hands reached for his hair, fingers tightening in the wet strands.

We were far from being satiated yet. Even though we’d fucked for a good portion of the night, I still wanted more of him. So much more.

Tomorrow, Yuko was coming back from her stay in the hospital. That meant we’d have to slow down with all the sex going on. With her in the house, Ulrik could hardly pay me a visit in the archive room to fuck my brains out.

In the meantime, though, we were allowed to have some fun.

With a contented sigh, I leaned back onto the wood behind me, spreading my knees further, looking down at Ulrik’s dark blonde head between my legs.

Damn, this trip to Norway was truly something else…

---

After our steamy moment in the steam room, we showered again and dressed for the day. When I returned to the main space, Ulrik was cooking something that smelled delicious.

“What are you cooking?”

“There are scones in the oven with tomatoes and mushrooms, I cracked open a can of beans, and the sausages are grilling.”

“Oh, you’re making me an English breakfast?”

“Thought you might miss it after nearly two weeks away.”

I smiled broadly, walking up to him and wrapping an arm around his solid neck. “Good to know you’re not getting me used to it again because you want to throw me out.”

“Shit, was my master plan so obvious?”

I chuckled at his terrible acting skills. The giggles turned into a small yelp when he lifted me off my feet to sit me on the counter. Now that I was leveled with his face, he ravished me with a deep, longing kiss. Earlier in the sauna, he’d made me orgasm with his mouth and fingers, never expecting anything in return. I was a little too dazed to think of returning him the favor, anyway. The intensity of his kiss betrayed how much he wanted me.

When he released me to return to the sausages, I noticed the bulge in his pants. The poor man… After all, it had been a couple of hours since he’d last come.

“How much longer for the scones?” I asked.

He checked on the oven. “Six minutes.”

My teeth clamped on the inside of my cheek to hold back my smile as I slid off the counter. Since I was barefoot, he didn’t hear me coming, and he jumped slightly when my hand reached around him to turn off the stove.

“What are you doing?” he wondered, squinting at me.

I already had my hands unfastening the button at his waist. “Do you think I can make you come with my mouth before the scones are done?”

His pupils expanded at the challenge, and he didn’t stop me when I slipped a hand into his underwear to grab onto his growing erection. “I think anything’s possible with you, Miss Connelly.”

My bright grin apparently warranted a quick peck, and then I made my way lower, kneeling before him while shoving his shorts down. As I looked at the perfection that was his dick, I realized that I’d never welcomed it in my mouth. He was always eager and ready to go down on me, but the opportunity to reciprocate never arose. About time we fixed that.

Just as I leaned forward to press a kiss on the swollen head, which poked through the foreskin, his hand gently reached down to tilt my face up. I complied, meeting his intense blue gaze, and the things I read in it had my chest swelling.

“You know you’ll drive me mad one day, right?”

“The good kind of mad, or the bad kind?” I teased, giving his shaft a playful pump.

“Both.”

When I bent forward this time, he didn’t interrupt me, and I gave his tip a wet kiss. Then, I pulled the skin back and licked the dent underneath the shiny end. Before he could see it coming, I wrapped my lips around his girth and sucked, bobbing my head a few times while rolling my tongue around his smooth tip.

“Fucking hell…” he cursed in his native language when I pulled away. “Definitely both , kjære .”

His words delighted me almost as much as the clear drops that seeped out of him. Two hours was definitely too long.

I was just taking him back when the worst possible sound resonated from the other side of the room.

The elevator.

Someone was using it, and it had just arrived with an elegant “Ding.”

When I looked up, Ulrik’s eyes darted down with the same panicked shock. What the—

He was the first one to react, pulling his shorts up, but before he could even start on the zipper or before I could get up, I heard the doors of the elevator parting.

“I am home!” Yuko’s familiar voice called into the vast space.

Fuck. Shit. Fuck!

【09】Nothing Escapes You

My mind was racing, contending with shock and anxiety to find a way out of this mess. With Yuko on the other side of the room, I couldn’t stand up now, or she’d figure out some foolery was going on between Ulrik and me. And it seemed he wasn’t thinking of anything either, given his bewildered expression.

When I noticed the pantry door was left open, I realized I could make it all the way there without her ever seeing me, thanks to the high counter that separated the kitchen from the rest. So, understandably, the first thing I thought of doing was crawl all the way to the pantry. Which I did, scrambling on all four.

“Mila, what are—” Ulrik started to mumble before Yuko interrupted him.

“Is Miss Mila with the collection?”

I grimaced, almost there, and Ulrik said, “Hmm, she is…”

As soon as I was far enough into the pantry, I sprung to my feet and returned to the door. “Hi, Yuko,” I cheerfully greeted her.

Her smile was luminous when she answered, “Hello, Miss Mila.”

I came around the counter to give her a tight and brief hug. Ulrik was with us, and he gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“Weren’t you supposed to come back tomorrow?” he asked.

I shoved my elbow into his side, reprimanding, then asked, “Was everything okay?”

“Oh, yes. Everything good. Everything very good. They tell me I have good results for last blood work.”

“That’s amazing, Yuko,” Ulrik fondly said.

“Are you already cooking lunch?” she asks.

“Uh, no, this is breakfast,” I cleared.

“This late?”

Ulrik and I exchanged a loaded side glance, aware that this was rather abnormal. “You two had long night?” she then wonders.

Again, I was not sure what to say. Especially since I could read something mischievous in her eyes, a twinkle of amusement. “I woke up late,” I improvised. “And Ulrik was exercising.”

“Oh, I see…” She didn’t look convinced, and after a few beats had passed, she gave us a knowing look. “You two know you can’t hide thing from me, right?”

“What are you implying, Yuko?” Ulrik cautiously asked.

Smiling mischievously, she reached for something in her coat’s pocket, and I tensed. As soon as she pulled out something blue and lacy out of it, I recognized it. “I imply that Miss Mila’s bra not walk alone to the elevator.”

Shit, no! The night Ulrik had driven me to the airport and back, we’d gotten a little carried away on our way up from the garage. Neither of us had used the elevator since, and because I’d spent so much time naked, I hadn’t even noticed the bra’s disappearance.

There was probably a window where we could have denied it and made it plausible. But we missed it because I was too shocked, staring at Yuko with my mouth agape, to say anything, and Ulrik was just as silent as me.

Rightfully so, Yuko took our silence as the acknowledgment she sought, and her grin widened. “If I knew all you two need was time alone, I would have gone sooner.”

Although her approval went straight to my heart, it didn’t quite help with the awkwardness of the moment. That lustful bubble we’d been getting ourselves lost in had swiftly burst, and I had no idea how to handle it.

“I interrupt something?” she asked.

“No, we weren’t—There was nothing happening,” I lied.

“I can return to my place and let you finish what you were doing.”

“We weren’t doing anything.”

“Really? Because Mr. Ulrik zipper not up,” she impishly said.

Shit.

Ulrik wasn’t as embarrassed as I was, taking care of his wardrobe malfunction with a semi-smirk. “Nothing escapes you.”

“I become wise with age. You see one day.” They exchanged a look charged with humor before she added, “I go, you two keep going.”

“Yuko, stay. You just came back from the hospital,” I protested. “Did you have breakfast yet?”

“Not a very good one.”

“Then have another one with us. There’s plenty enough for three.”

“We worked up quite the appetite,” Ulrik joked, earning another shove of my elbow.

Yuko considered my offer for a little longer, her amused gaze traveling between Ulrik and me. Eventually, she gave in with a shrug. “Alright, I stay. But only because it smell so good.”

While she went to get rid of her coat and bag, Ulrik came closer to me. “Weren’t we in the middle of something?” he whispered in my ear.

“You will survive.”

His scoff was countered by his amused grin. He returned to the kitchen to finish the breakfast he’d started, and I went to Yuko.

“So, how are you feeling?” I asked her, rubbing her arm.

“A little tired, like always. But I am glad they say I am in remission. We did not have good results before.”

“I’m glad to hear it too. Ulrik told me you were a force of nature and would outlive us all.”

“He say that?” she wondered, eyeing her boss. I nodded, which somehow brought a grin to her wrinkled face. When her attention returned to me, I knew the topic was taking a swift turn. “So, you two make up?”

“We…had a talk. He apologized for being an idiot and promised he would do better. He even shared some things about his past as a show of good intentions.”

“He did?”

“Yes, he told me about his late wife.”

Now, Yuko was properly shocked, which indicated that the matter was a delicate one that Ulrik didn’t often share. “It good you two are… Well, whatever you are. Mr. Ulrik deserve to be happy, and you a… What they say in your country? Swoll woman?”

I laughed softly, touched by the compliment. “It’s swell. Nobody says that anymore, but thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Miss Mila. He a swell man too.”

We both turned to look at Ulrik, who was actively setting our food on three plates. “I’ve noticed, yeah…”

So he wouldn’t be the one doing everything, I ordered Yuko to take a seat at the table and handled the dressing of the table. Before long, all three of us were seated, surrounded by the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, mingling with the scent of grilled sausages and buttery scones.

As we dug in, Yuko gave us an account of her hospital stay. Although it was a common occurrence that they were both used to, it was a first for me, so I appreciated that she took the time to fill me in on the procedures. The chemo didn’t make her overly sick, but it drained her for a few days.

“Ulrik and I will be in charge of cooking, then. I’ll make you my father’s macaroni bechamel.”

“Ah, yes! You told me about it. The Egyptian dish?”

“Yes! It’s the ultimate comfort food, you’ll see.”

As we enjoyed our meal, a sense of tranquility settled over the space. The clinking of cutlery against plates harmonized with soft laughter, creating a symphony of togetherness. This breakfast was more than just that; it was a testament to the bonds we were all slowly forming. Ulrik and I exchanged glances and discreet smiles the whole time. We might not be alone anymore, but this link, this connection between us, remained untouched.

Of course, Yuko tried to help clean up once we were done, but both Ulrik and I insisted that she remained seated. When she expressed her need for a nap, I eagerly offered to walk her home, curious to see the accommodations she lived in. Ulrik came along, and our little trio exited the house with warm shoes and coats. It was a five-minute walk that led to a quaint little stone house.

“This was already on the property,” Ulrik explained as we closed in on it. “It was remodeled to the highest standards, so Yuko could live as comfortably as possible. Jakob’s house is a log house a little further down the road.”

“I see…”

“Do you want a tour?” Yuko offered as she opened the door—which wasn’t locked.

“I’d love one.”

As soon as we stepped inside her home, a sense of cozy warmth enveloped me. Ulrik’s mansion was stunning by any means, but it was rather cold with all the glass, exposed concrete, and metal. The immense volumes of the house also didn’t help bring a sense of comfort and safety. This, however, was homely and warm. A fire burned in the hearth, flowery curtains hung on the windows, warm colors… It wasn’t cluttered, though, which I supposed was due to Yuko’s Japanese origins. Once the brief tour was over, Yuko offered us some tea. I accepted, insisting we’d let her rest right after.

Which was what we did, heading back to the mansion on foot and leaving her to her cozy home.

As we walked up the hill, Ulrik slipped an arm around my waist to pull me closer. “Thank you,” he said, kissing my temple.

“For what?”

“Being so good to her.”

I sent him a confused glance. “You don’t have to thank me for that.”

“I know, I just… I appreciate it.”

“You really care about her.”

“I’ve known her for so long that she’s family at this point. The only one I have left.”

I wrapped a hand around his broad back to tug him closer. “She’ll be fine. You heard what the doctors said about her remission.”

“Yeah, that was a relief.”

“She’s a tough cookie.”

“She is.”

We reached the house, reentered its warmth, and Ulrik helped me out of my coat. I was busy hooking it on the rack when his fingers came to graze my neck and pull my blouse to the side. His soft lips came to rest on the patch of skin he exposed there, and I closed my eyes, delighted.

“Should we…continue what she interrupted?” he whispered in my ear.

The reminder of what we’d been doing before Yuko’s untimely arrival, of my kneeling before him in the kitchen and sucking on his dick, brought a surge of heat inside me. I wanted to accept and resume, but most of the day was gone as it was, and I hadn’t spent even a minute downstairs exploring the archive room.

Twisting my neck to meet his intensely blue eyes, I offered him a sheepish pout. “Maybe later? I really should get working.”

His understanding smile reassured me, and he pressed a last kiss on my neck to really show that he didn’t mind. “I’ll be doing some work of my own then. Let me know if you need anything, skatt .”

I spun around and hooked my arms around his neck. “I will. Thank you, Norseman.”

We were both grinning when we kissed, a sweet and poignant exchange that displayed just how much we wanted each other despite being reasonable people. We’d spent the past couple of days having sex, so it was about time we returned to our old habits.

The glass room felt rather lonely when I entered it, but that sentiment was quickly dismissed as I became absorbed by my findings there. Just like last time, I found myself discovering unheard-of books and manuscripts, which gave me unique knowledge that my colleagues would kill for. It was unfair that one person might own such precious items filled with so much history, but I was blessed to have come across Ulrik’s path.

All of this was so substantial that I could more than ever justify my lengthened stay here in the Westergaard Estate. Those were solid researches that a historian like me was not only qualified to conduct but also encouraged to. Hopefully, Ulrik would eventually allow me to borrow everything in there, so the museum could verify and scan everything, allowing us to have permanent access to every single bit of information these pages held.

The sun was slowly setting on the horizon when he came down to pay me a visit, holding a steaming cup of coffee for me. I thanked him with a smile and a peck on the lips, and we both observed the codex open on the table.

“Found anything interesting?”

“Yes, many. I still can’t believe you own all this.”

“A collector’s curse, really. I can’t seem to stop wanting more, and I constantly invest in new items that I come across…”

“Must be nice, being so rich,” I mumbled.

He chuckled. “Well, I could give you a taste of it if you want.” I gave him a side glance, my eyebrow rising as an encouragement to keep going. “I just got a call from Gustaf.”

“Dr. Henriksen?”

Ulrik confirmed with a nod. “One of his contacts is holding an auction with old Viking artifacts in Oslo. Since he knows my interest in such matters, he arranged a meeting between me and the auctioneer.”

“So you can get acquainted with the items before the auction?”

“No, so I can offer my price on some of them before they are even auctioned.”

“It sounds quite counterproductive, given what auctions are meant for.”

“It’s a silent auction, so I will place some very generous bids, and then wait to see if I won. I’m not someone for this whole public nonsense with cameras and accolades. I’d rather trade in the dark and stay in the shadows.”

I knew Ulrik was a private person because a brief attempt at finding information about him on Google had brought very little—and only one poor-quality picture. I’d never realized he went out of his way to make sure it remained that way, though.

“When’s the auction?”

“In a couple of weeks, but the auctioneer’s only availability is the day after tomorrow.”

“So, what? You’re heading to Oslo tomorrow?”

“I’m afraid I must, yes. And if you’d like to join me, it would be my pleasure.”

I looked at all the things I had yet to uncover in this room, hesitant. “You’ll get to come back and finish this eventually,” Ulrik noted. “But it might be your one chance to see some of the items in Oslo. Besides, I’d love to have your expert eye with me to help with the decision-making.”

I huffed despite being touched by his compliment. “You know as much as I do, if not more, about Viking art and history. I don’t think I’d be of any actual help.”

He chuckled, wrapping an arm around me and pulling me in front of him. “Then how about the fact that I don’t want to spend two days away from you, Miss Connelly?”

His admission delighted me beyond words, a lot more than it should have, and I practically turned into a puddle. “That, Mr. Westergaard, is a sentiment I can get behind.”

He lowered as if to kiss me but stopped when his lips were nearly against mine. “So, will you come to Oslo with me, love?”

“When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow, right after lunch.”

“Can I think about it and let you know tomorrow morning?”

“Sure. Here’s some material to help you decide,” he whispered just before taking my lips.

Not even two seconds in, I already knew I’d say yes. There was no way I’d spend two days away from him.

【10】Takeoff

Of course, I ended up accepting to join him on his impromptu trip to Oslo. Not only was I eager to visit the city, but I was also looking forward to seeing my old professor, who would be meeting with us. Also, Ulrik had spent a portion of the night showing me exactly why I needed to come along with him, displaying an insatiable amount of persuasion and stamina.

My main issue was Yuko, whom I felt terrible for abandoning so early after her return. “No, don’t worry for me, Miss Mila,” she insisted when I brought it up to her. “I like to be alone here. I don’t mind you going.”

“Are you sure? Maybe you could come along with us.”

She shook her head without an ounce of hesitation. “I only come to Oslo when Mr. Ulrik stay more than a week. I don’t like long trip, and I like my home here more.”

Because she sounded so genuine, I decided to believe she truly meant it and wasn’t being polite or making sure she stayed out of our way. I insisted that I had no issue staying here if she would rather, though. But again, she maintained she was perfectly fine with solitude—especially since she would have Reginald for company.

After an intense morning of working separately, Ulrik and I shared a quick lunch with her before going on our way. We had a five-hour drive ahead of us, and despite Ulrik’s car being so luxuriously comfortable, I wasn’t really looking forward to that.

“Do you go to Oslo often?” I asked him as we passed the gates of the estate and joined the main road.

“Two, three times a month.”

“Adding to all the trips you take around the world?”

He winced. “Yeah, I don’t spend much time at the estate. I have entire months where I barely spend four or five days there. In fact, I can’t remember when was the last time I stayed there for as long as I did since you got here.”

“Really?”

His hand came to rest over my thigh as he nodded. “For some reason, I didn’t want to leave.”

I smiled, touched by his admission, and held his hand over my thigh. “So, Yuko is used to being alone there.”

“She is. I offered that we relocate my main residence to Oslo instead so she’d have more activities and social life. But she prefers nature and the fjord’s beauty.”

“I kinda get her,” I said, looking around at the landscape. Even from the road, this place was stunning. “Did she ever…fall in love and marry?”

Ulrik gravely shook his head. “She fell in love with the wrong boy when she was a young teen. From what I know, he promised her the world but never delivered any of it. She had an ectopic pregnancy as a result, and lost her ability to bear a child.”

“Oh, no…”

“Everyone abandoned her—not only that boy but her family too. I think she never recovered from the betrayal, so she didn’t allow herself to fall in love again.”

“That’s horrible… Poor Yuko.”

This was heartbreaking to hear. The information left me silent for a while, as I pondered on its implications. This bond between Ulrik and her made even more sense now, because she’d known him since he was a child and had been the one constant variable in his life. He’d called her the only family he had left, and I now realized that Yuko felt the same.

At some point, Ulrik took an unexpected turn, so I twisted around to confirm that the Oslo sign we’d just passed showed a different direction.

“Isn’t Oslo the other way?” I asked.

“It is. But the airfield is that way.”

Now I was properly confused because the airport also wasn’t in that direction. “We’re taking a plane?”

“We are,” he confirmed with a crooked grin.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I suspected you might have some objections about it.”

“Why would I—”

Before I could finish my question, we took a turn that revealed an asphalt runway, and waiting on the other side of it, I spotted a small red plane.

“We’re flying in that ?” I asked. He nodded, still clearly amused. “It doesn’t look like it can take more than two people,” I skeptically pointed out.

“It can actually take four to seven, but it’ll be just you and me today.”

“And the pilot.”

“I’m the pilot, love.”

My jaw dropped, and now it made sense why he had said nothing. I had objections, yes. Plenty of them.

It wasn’t that I didn’t trust his ability to fly it, but I didn’t trust his ability to fly it. Just how many talents could this man have? He had to be bad at something, and I wasn’t looking forward to learning he sucked at flying a plane.

“Is it a joke?” I insisted.

“Not in the slightest. This is one of the best personal planes out there, love. And I have completed hundreds of flights.”

“Really?”

“Yes. And only a couple of crashes in all that,” he joked.

I pinched my lips together, not really amused. “Everything will be fine, Mila. And we’ll be in Oslo in less than an hour.”

Well, that helped. And it made sense why he would have this kind of solution if he flew to the capital so often. Instead of five hours and some, he could get there in an hour and a half door-to-door while enjoying a splendid view over Norway.

Before I could protest more, we reached the plane. Two men were inspecting it, and when Ulrik parked nearby, their attention turned to us.

“Welcome, Mr. Westergaard,” the oldest man greeted Ulrik in their native tongue. “We’re just done with the check-up. She’s fueled up and ready to go.”

While Ulrik spoke with him, the other man came to take mine and Ulrik’s luggage from the trunk and loaded it in the plane. This felt very…rich. And Ulrik’s nonchalant attitude with it told me he was beyond used to the procedure. He gave the man his car keys and joined me, visibly excited.

“Are we ready to go, love?”

“I’m, uh… I think so? Someone put our stuff in the plane.”

“Then we’re off.” It seemed that he could sense my uneasiness because his eyes softened, and he gave my arm a gentle caress. “Come on, kjære . I promise I wouldn’t put you in any sort of danger.”

The fact that I was hung up about this was odd because I’d flown in worse conditions before. I still remembered how my father had brought me with him to Egypt one summer, and we’d taken a beat-up old plane in Cairo to a location further up the Nile. The aircraft before me was clearly state of the art, and if Ulrik had indeed as much experience as he claimed, then everything would be fine.

Swallowing back my anxiety, I gave him a nod and followed him to the small aircraft. He let me in first and then joined me up the few steps.

“You sit here,” he instructed, pointing at one of the two front seats in the cockpit.

“I don’t know how to do any of that.”

“I know, don’t worry, elskling . The Vision G2 only requires one licensed pilot.”

I let out a small, reassured sigh and sat in my chair. The seatbelt was easy to buckle, and then I watched Ulrik do his thing. The dashboard wasn’t covered in buttons and switches like I expected, but touch screens that he easily navigated through. After a few minutes of his rigorous inspection, where he sparsely explained a couple of things to me, he handed me a noise-canceling headset that was plugged into the plane.

“It’s about to get noisy, and this is how we communicate,” he explained, pointing at the small microphone. I nodded and took it from him, slipping it over my ears. “I’ll taxi us to the runway, and then you’ll do the takeoff.”

My eyes widened, my head whipping to him at once. Again, he looked very amused and entertained, ignoring me as he flicked the engine on. “Ulrik, I told you I have no idea how to do any of this,” I reminded him as he taxied the plane to another location.

“Takeoff is the easiest part, Mila. I’ll handle the landing, but you can absolutely get us in the air without putting us in any kind of danger.”

It was a stressful idea, yes, but also an exciting one. And the faith he had in me made something swell in my chest. If he was so confident that I could do it, then I ought to trust him.

Once we were in position, with the tarmac lined up ahead of us, he gave me the instructions I needed. “This is the gas,” he explained, pointing at a command between us. “We’ll push it together. The flight control happens with the joystick on your side. When I tell you, you will slowly but firmly pull on it. Like this,” he explained, showing me with the stick on his side. “If you don’t want to do it, just tell me, love, and I’ll handle the takeoff.”

“I kind of…want to,” I sheepishly admitted.

He laughed, apparently finding me endearing, and bent over the low console between us to give me a kiss. Then, I waited while he cleared our takeoff with the control center, my heart beating hectically, my throat dry with apprehension. This felt a lot more adventurous than it really was.

He flicked something on the dashboard and gave me an encouraging smile. “Are you ready, kjære ?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“That’s the spirit,” he chuckled.

I watched as he pushed a few more buttons on the touch screen before us, and then he grabbed my hand, which was resting in a tight fist over my thigh, and slipped his thumb between my fingers and palm to encourage me to relax it. He laid it over the lever between us and enveloped it with his own big and warm hand.

“It’s nothing to be worried about, Mila. I’m right here with you.”

With a firm nod, I swallowed the lump that clogged my throat and stared right ahead.

“Alright, hand on your control stick,” he instructed, to which I immediately complied.

Somehow, I still wasn’t ready when he slowly pushed on the lever under my palm, making the engine above us roar. The plane instantly began to build up speed, a lot more than when he’d taxied us here, and I felt the pull of gravity tugging at my gut. The length of the runway reduced before us, and I couldn’t help but worry that we wouldn’t have enough of it to take off. Ulrik’s attention was everywhere at once, on the speed indicator, the outside, the dashboard…

There was still plenty of room when his voice came through the headset to say, “Now you can pull, love. Slow and firm.”

So I did. I pulled on the joystick, just like he showed me, hoping I wasn’t messing it up somehow. But then I felt it—the moment the wheels took off from the asphalt. And I saw the ground lower below us. We were airborne. And I’d done it almost on my own.

My anxiety turned into pure joy as I watched the landscape lowering, my eyes sometimes darting to the altitude counter. This was a fantastic feeling, between accomplishment and pride.

“You did so good, sweetheart,” Ulrik praised me, even though I’d only been following orders. “Now, we’ll climb a little more, and then we’ll maneuver to set us in the right direction. Do you want to do it?”

“Is it complicated?”

“Not really.”

“Then…yes? You’ll talk me through it, right?”

“Of course. Just keep in mind that you need to go slow and be gentle. This beast is a lot faster than it looks like, and its speed can sometimes take you by surprise.”

“Roger that.”

For the following ten minutes, he gave me clear instructions on how to proceed, and my elation never faded. It would have been so much simpler for him to just take charge and fly us, but he’d insisted on letting me try, knowing I’d have a blast doing it. And that, beyond the novelty and the sense of accomplishment, was absolutely amazing to know. Especially since I could tell how much he loved flying, which meant that doing it was taking a pleasurable moment away from him.

Once we were set on the proper course, he took a moment to explain a few more things to me. I felt stupid for even questioning his ability to pilot a plane because he was remarkably well-versed. Again, this man’s talent was impressive, and it only added another reason for me to be attracted to him.

As if I needed that…

“Okay, hypothetical question,” I asked. “Let’s say a co-pilot found themselves sucking on the pilot’s dick because of how overwhelmingly sexy he is. What would be the risks?”

His chuckle, a breath that was half amused and half surprised, rasped into my ear. When I turned to look at him, I saw the cocky little smirk bending the corner of his lips.

“Miss Connelly, bribing your instructor with the promise of head won’t help get you a license.”

“I’m not promising anything; it’s just hypothetical.”

“So, if I replied that it would be perfectly safe since the autopilot is on, you wouldn’t jump on the opportunity?” His side look was defiant, daring me to act on my not-so-coy offer.

“Oh, I would even if it wasn’t that safe.” With that, I undid my seatbelt and sent a hand to his crotch, molding it over the bulge at the apex of his muscular thighs.

“Mila, you do realize this is an open channel, and every control tower in a five-hundred miles radius can hear us, right?”

My eyes became huge with shock and shame as I met his, ripping my hand away and pressing my lips together tightly so I wouldn’t say anything more. What the hell?! Why hadn’t he told me this sooner!

The mischievousness in his eyes answered that for me.

“Ulrik, you dickhead! Don’t mess with me like that. I was so worried.”

He laughed, heartedly and loudly. “You’re too easy to mess with, love. See this indicator here?” he asked, pointing at a little light that was turned off. “When that’s on, then our channel is open to the towers. Now, focus and fasten your seatbelt back, woman. We have half an hour left to turn you into a proper aviator.”

“I would much rather blow you if I’m being honest.”

“Weren’t you the one terrified to get in twenty minutes ago?”

“Well, you’ve earned my trust.” My avid hands returned to the opening of his pants, only to be stopped by the solid grip of his.

“Not now, Mila.”

“Why?” I whimpered with defeat. “Is the air police going to pull us to the side and fine you?”

He chuckled low, shaking his head. “Because when I do get those pretty little lips wrapped around my cock, I want to be able to enjoy it one hundred percent. I want to hear, see, and enjoy it all without having to worry about anything else. And we’re not getting interrupted again for whatever reason.”

So, he wasn’t refusing me because he didn’t want this, but because he wanted it too much? That was very flattering, despite being a rejection of sorts. With my ego both inflated and crushed, I agreed with a nod and sat back properly, fastening my seatbelt again.

“You have got to be the most charming killjoy out there,” I mumbled into the mic.

“At least you find me charming.”

I rolled my eyes, failing at hiding my grin. Of course, I did. And I wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore.

What was the point?

【11】Oslo

I wasn’t exactly surprised, but the landing on a small private runway close to Oslo was smooth and flawless, proving once more that Ulrik was a fantastic pilot. After exiting the plane, we entered an electric SUV waiting for us. It drove us to a tall building downtown, and Ulrik led me to its last floor.

Of course, his place in Oslo was as stunning as the one in Trondheim. The penthouse offered a panoramic view over the city, and the chic and elegant interior screamed opulence and old money. Some relics of the past were exposed there as well, either on pedestals or hanging on the walls. I was busy admiring a remarkably well-preserved helmet when Ulrik came to my side, slipping a hand on the small of my back.

“Would you like a tour?” he offered.

“Of course.”

With his hand still on my back, Ulrik guided me through the spacious living room, adorned with exquisite design furniture that looked both stylish and comfortable. The plush velvet couches were complemented by sleek glass coffee tables, and a stunning chandelier hung from the high ceiling, casting a warm and inviting glow over the room. On the walls, an impressive collection of art was displayed, ranging from modern abstract pieces to classic oil paintings, each adding its own unique touch to the ambiance.

Moving on, we entered the dining area, where a grand wooden table dominated the space. Surrounding it were chic, high-backed chairs that invited us to take a seat and enjoy a sumptuous feast. The large windows provided a breathtaking view of the Oslo skyline, making it the perfect setting for both intimate dinners and glamorous gatherings.

Next, we ventured into the kitchen, a chef’s dream come true. The sleek, state-of-the-art appliances blended seamlessly with the minimalist design, and the marble countertops exuded a sense of luxury. Ulrik explained that to him, a kitchen was not just a place to prepare meals but also a space for culinary creativity and experimentation. His cooking skills truly stemmed from a passion more than it did a need.

The tour then led us to the terrace, a true gem of the penthouse. The outdoor space was lavishly furnished with plush lounge chairs, a cozy outdoor fireplace, and an elegant dining area, as well as potted plants. The panoramic view of downtown Oslo was simply breathtaking, and I could imagine spending hours here, basking in the beauty of the city.

I couldn’t help but be captivated by the sheer beauty and opulence of the place. From the moment I stepped in, it was evident that every aspect of the penthouse was carefully curated to exude elegance and sophistication. Throughout the tour, Ulrik’s passion for design and attention to detail shone through, making this penthouse more than just a luxurious space but a work of art in itself. I felt incredibly grateful for the opportunity to experience such splendor and beauty.

The master bedroom was a sanctuary of tranquility and relaxation. The king-sized bed was clad in soft, high-thread-count sheets that promised a night of ultimate comfort and sin. The room’s color scheme was a calming blend of neutral grays and beiges, creating a soothing atmosphere that was conducive to restful sleep.

As we made our way to the bathroom, I was in awe of its grandeur. The marble-lined walls and floor, along with the sparkling crystal fixtures, gave it a spa-like ambiance. The deep soaking tub looked incredibly inviting, and the rainfall shower promised an indulgent bathing experience.

“This place is amazing,” I said once we returned to the bedroom.

“I like living in comfort.”

“This is more than comfort, Ulrik. This is luxury.”

He offered me a semi-smile as if the nuance held no importance to him. Because I hadn’t teased him for nearly an hour, which was apparently my limit, I gestured at the hallway we came in through.

“You mentioned the guest room was the first door, right?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll go settle my things there, then.”

My poker face must have been on point because he looked genuinely confused for a split second. He figured it out, though, and a wolfish grin split his face in half. “You will do no such things, Miss Connelly.”

Before I could protest or do anything, his powerful arms came to wrap around my frame and lift me off the waxed concrete floors. My squeal of surprise didn’t deter him from carrying me across the room, and the next thing I knew, I was thrown on the bed, softly bouncing off it before settling. I couldn’t hide my amusement, still a little stunned, as Ulrik crawled his way on top of me, his lips seeking mine.

Somehow, despite everything that had happened, I still had a hard time believing that Ulrik, this demigod of a man, was actually mine to enjoy. The way he looked at me, the way he held me in his arms, it felt like a dream, too good to be true. And more than that, he wanted a formal commitment with me, to be mine in a way that extended beyond passion and desire. It was exhilarating yet intimidating, a whirlwind of emotions swirling within me.

In those intimate moments, when his hands traced the curves of my body, and his kisses filled me with a fiery passion, it was difficult to remember that he was still on probation, that there were shadows from his past that lingered. I had to be cautious with my heart, even though it longed for what he had asked for—to be with him in a deeper, more profound way, to explore the possibilities of a real connection between us.

But the memories of what we had been through couldn’t be easily brushed aside. I couldn’t forget the tears that had welled up in my eyes before we had even delved into a physical relationship. He was a complicated man, and I had no illusions about my own complexities either. We were both shaped by our pasts, our experiences, and our insecurities.

The question weighed heavily on my mind: could our intricate, complex selves truly be compatible? It was like trying to fit two unique pieces of a jigsaw puzzle together, unsure if they would complement each other perfectly or if the edges would clash and create gaps.

Yet, despite the uncertainty, I couldn’t deny the deep connection we shared. It was as if we understood each other in a way no one else could. We felt the unspoken emotions that lingered beneath the surface. There was a magnetic pull between us, drawing us together despite the challenges we faced.

As we navigated this uncertain path, I couldn’t help but hope that we would find a way to make it work. To embrace the complexities of ourselves and each other, and in doing so, create a bond that was unbreakable. Perhaps, in the grand tapestry of life, our unique pieces could weave together to form a beautiful and harmonious picture.

Everything in me wanted to listen to my heart and see where this journey with Ulrik would take us. For better or worse, it could be a risk worth taking, and I was eager to explore the depths of our connection, hoping that love would conquer the complexities and make us whole, like those two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle that fit together perfectly.

I ripped myself from his lips, aware of his hands fidgeting between us, to open my jeans.

“You’re really good… You know that?” I breathed out.

“At what?”

“At groveling and being perfect and making me forget about all the mess from before.”

“I am?” he asked with feigned surprise as he dipped his fingers into my underwear.

The tip of his index and middle finger found my clit with uncanny precision, rolling around it just enough to make me moan. “Mmm… You’re also very good at sex, which might help.”

He chuckled, the low, raspy vibration of it rippling against my throat. “I really like making you come. You make the most intoxicating sounds when you do.”

“Really?”

“Mhmm…” His fingers slithered lower, and he pushed them inside me, unhurried and playful.

“I’m not sure I even know what I sound like. Maybe you should… make me come a couple of times, and I’ll pay attention.”

“ Elskling , if I’m doing things right, the only thing you’ll pay attention to is me.“

It was my turn to laugh softly, and I reached for his handsome face, framing it with both hands and bringing it up to kiss him. “We shall see,” I mumbled right before claiming his lips.“

---

After a couple of enchanting hours in Ulrik’s bed and a long shower to clean it all off, we stepped outside into the vibrant streets of Oslo, ready to immerse ourselves in the city’s charm. The bustling energy of the urban landscape was invigorating, and we strolled along, taking in the sights and sounds that make the capital truly special. I knew this city well, but I hadn’t taken the time to enjoy it in a leisurely manner since my studies there. Whenever I visited, I was in a rush of professional meetings and lengthy conventions. It was nice to appreciate it like this once again.

As we made our way towards the harbor, hand in hand, the air was filled with a refreshing maritime breeze. The scent of the sea mixed with the earthy notes of the nearby parks, creating a delightful atmosphere. The harbor was alive with activity as day cruisers and sailboats fended gracefully on the shimmering waters. Seagulls glided overhead, their calls adding to the sense of being by the ocean.

We found a spot by the water’s edge and sat on a bench, marveling at the picturesque view before us. The bobbing boats created a mesmerizing dance on the waves, and the warmth of Ulrik’s body against mine was comforting, with his arm possessively resting over my shoulders to keep me warm and close. It was a moment of tranquility amid the urban rush, and we both relished in the peace the harbor offered.

As the sun began to set, casting hues of orange and pink across the sky, we decided it was time to head to return to the real world and have dinner. Walking through the city streets once more, we passed by charming cafes, stylish boutiques, and lively squares, all contributing to the eclectic ambiance of Oslo. It all seemed like random strolling until Ulrik stirred me toward a small square paved with cobbles with a few trees that had lost nearly all their leaves now.

He walked me all the way to a small restaurant nestled between two more prominent buildings, its exterior exuding a sense of old-fashioned elegance. “This is the oldest restaurant in Oslo,” he explained.

“Really?”

He nodded. “As stellar as Yuko’s cooking is, I thought you might enjoy some traditional Norwegian dishes.”

“I would, yes.”

With his hand on the small of my back, he led me inside. Upon entering, we were greeted warmly by the staff, and I observed the interior. While the outside hadn’t looked that old, it was easy to guess the restaurant’s impressive run inside. It almost looked like a small museum, with antique pieces, pictures, and furniture that dated from two centuries before this one. It created an inviting and sophisticated atmosphere, and I almost wanted to walk around just to bask in it.

A waitress led us to a table in a retreat corner, where Ulrik pulled my chair to help me sit before taking his place on the other side. I crossed my leg, purposefully resting the side of my foot against his calf, and offered him a teasing smile.

“So, what’s our program while we’re here?” I asked, picking up the menu the waitress handed me.

“In the morning, we’re meeting with Gustaf at the gallery that will host the auction. I’ve been told that a few pieces haven’t been shown in half a century, as they belonged to a very private individual.”

“That reminds me of someone,” I pointed out, hiding my smile behind my menu.

“And yet, some do get to explore all of it and even borrow some pieces.”

I raised an amused eyebrow at him. “An honor, really. Anything else planned?”

“We’re having lunch with your old professor, and then I’m afraid I have some business to conduct in the afternoon.”

“Ever the workaholic.”

He gave me a sardonic grin. “I’m actually trying to make arrangements to have more free time in the foreseeable future.”

My heart fluttered at his words, my mind secretly hoping it was for me. But it would be too bold to ask it so bluntly, especially if he was changing things around for something else. Holding a tight leash on my hopes, I cleared my throat and innocently asked, “Any specific reason?”

He leaned back into his chair, his cerulean eyes planted in mine, examining me. “Well, I plan on spending a lot more time in London. And I’ll also need more free time.”

“Doing what?”

“If I have a say in it, you. Over and over again.”

I couldn’t hide my delighted smile but managed to quench a giggle. My heart was in a frenzy, and my face was warm with delight. He was indeed serious about this thing between us.

“Anything else planned while we’re here?”

“I have to go meet with some friends tomorrow evening at a club. You’re welcome to join me, of course.”

“Is it a good club?”

“One of the most exclusive in Europe.”

Of course, it was… “I don’t think I have an outfit for that.”

“Good thing you’ll have the entire afternoon to find one, then,” he pointed out with a smug grin.

I hadn’t indulged in a shopping spree in ages, so the prospect was actually exciting. Doing it in Norway, though, wasn’t the best idea, as prices here were rather steep. All I needed was a club-appropriate dress, though, so I would be fine.

【12】Skattekammer

As we stepped into the luxurious art gallery the following morning, the air seemed to buzz with excitement. Ulrik was in one of his perfectly tailored business suits—a blueish silk blend that worked wonders on his eyes. I looked just as professional with my pencil skirt and satin blouse, a fitted jacket thrown over it.

A woman, blonde, tall, and about my age, came to welcome us. “Mr. Westergaard,” she greeted Ulrik in Norwegian, “welcome to Skattekammer .” She then greeted me with a polite smile and turned back to Ulrik. “I will let Mr. Hagen know you have arrived.”

Following an elegant nod, she fended her way through the gallery to disappear behind a door.

I allowed my eyes to wander around us, amazed by the collection. The place itself looked like an antique shop more than it did an art gallery. The soft glow of carefully placed spotlights illuminated the artifacts of all origins that adorned the space. It wasn’t just Scandinavian antiques, but items that came from all around the world, with African masks, Chinese watercolors, Pre-Columbian carvings… Each piece held a sense of mystery and history, inviting us to delve into the ancient world that once thrived on this earth.

When I came closer to a glass cabinet, I sensed Ulrik’s presence following me. “ Treasure Chamber is quite the appropriate name,“ I pointed out, admiring the fine details of a Renaissance dagger.

“I have purchased many items from Mr. Hagen’s shop in the past. He has a knack for finding these things like no one else.”

While the morality of acquiring such priceless artifacts was debatable, I wasn’t allowed to throw a stone from my glass house. After all, I worked for a museum that was filled to the brim with ancient items that had been stolen from their culture—some centuries ago and some much more recently.

“Mr. Westergaard!” a masculine voice called.

We both turned toward it, seeing an elderly man approaching us. Despite his advanced age, his dynamic walk conveyed an active lifestyle, and his look was of refined class, almost timeless as if he’d just stepped out of another century.

Ulrik offered him a professional smile as the man joined us. “Mr. Hagen, always a pleasure to see you.”

They shook hands, and the gallery’s owner turned to me. “This is Miss Mila Connelly,” Ulrik introduced me. “She’s been cataloging my collection for the past couple of weeks. I plan on using her brilliant historian skills to evaluate the items you’ll share with us today.”

“A clever man you are, Mr. Westergaard.” I was taken slightly off guard when he took the hand I extended, but instead of shaking it, he laid a brief kiss on the back of it like a proper gentleman. “And a man of fine tastes,” he added, giving me a wink. I might have felt awkward about it, but there was no libidinous undertone to the glimmer in his eyes—only mischief. “Gustaf mentioned you, Miss Connelly, when he said he would come to see the items with Mr. Westergaard. He made it sound like you were his star pupil.”

“Oh, I’m surely not. I loved following his classes, and I owe part of my passion for Viking history to him. But I’m sure he’s had more prominent students than me.”

“You’re being too tough on yourself, unge dame, “ said a familiar voice from behind us.

Only one person called me a young lady like this, so I instantly knew who it was. I turned around with a broad smile. Despite the years that had passed since I last saw him, Professor Gustaf Henriksen hadn’t changed much. His slightly overweight frame and neatly trimmed beard were just as I remembered, and his frameless glasses hadn’t changed. With warm grins, we welcomed each other like old friends.

“Mila, my dear, it has been a long time,” Professor Henriksen exclaimed, his eyes twinkling with delight.

“Professor Henriksen, it’s wonderful to see you again,” I replied, my heart swelling with nostalgia and gratitude.

Ulrik offered him a nod, “Gustaf, I must thank you for putting me in Miss Connelly’s path. Meeting her has been a delight.”

The professor chuckled warmly, shaking Ulrik’s hand. “Ah, Mila was always an exceptional student. Her passion for history and her thirst for knowledge were unmatched. I’m glad to see you two are getting along well. You appreciate the beauty of the past as much as she does.”

Once everyone was adequately greeted, the gallery’s owner rubbed his hands together. “Should we get on with it?”

“Absolutely.”

Mr. Hagen led us to a different room, almost as big as the gallery itself, where dozens upon dozens of ancient artifacts were exposed. My jaw dropped slightly at the sight, excitation making my heart swell and race. Part of me was aware that the impressive display wasn’t as remarkable as it would have been a couple of weeks prior. But after seeing Ulrik’s collection, this was almost…anticlimactic in comparison.

We all followed as the gallery’s owner guided us through the pieces. His passion for art and history was evident in the way his eyes lit up as he spoke about the collection, sharing anecdotes and stories that brought each artifact to life.

The shared knowledge between all four of us was astounding, and we spiraled into thrilling debates, painting vivid pictures of Viking sagas and their legendary voyages. One particular piece caught my eye—an intricately carved rune stone standing tall in the center of the gallery. Henrik explained that it was a rare find, dating back to the early Viking Age. The runes inscribed on the stone held secrets and messages from an era long gone, and I couldn’t help but wonder about the stories it held within its weathered surface. With Mr. Hagen’s authorization, I snapped a few pictures of it, eager to translate it once I found the time for it.

Ulrik, too, was captivated by the artifacts. His eyes sparkled with curiosity and admiration as the gallery’s owner unveiled each treasure. It was a privilege to be here, surrounded by the remnants of a fascinating past, and to have Ulrik by my side, sharing this remarkable journey through history.

My lover and the professor engaged in a lively discussion about the historical significance of particular pieces, and I found myself in awe of the intellectual exchange between the two. They knew each other a lot better than I’d ever thought, and it was odd to witness their familiarity. My old professor held a considerable place in my life, and Ulrik was gaining more of it with each day, already consuming most of my thoughts, placed right in the center of my mind and needs.

Thankfully, I was too absorbed by everything to accidentally expose our little secret, and aside from a few excited glances, we masterfully kept our shared intimacy under wraps.

I was busy admiring a magnificent tapestry when I felt his warm presence right behind me, sensing the discreet brush of his hand on my lower back before he settled next to me. “All these priceless treasures, and yet you’re still the most stunning one in the room, skatt ,” he whispered.

As corny as it was, I couldn’t hold back a grin. “Someone’s in a good mood.”

“If I could wake up to the taste of your cunt every single day for the rest of my life, I’d be the happiest of men.”

Heat crept up my face at the memory of this morning. I’d emerged from deep slumber to the pleasurable sensation of his tongue licking up my folds, his piercing eyes planted on my sleepy ones.

“Ultimately, these treasures do have a price,” I said, desperate to keep this professional. “Any you’d like to take home?”

“Aside from you?” he teased. The disapproving glance I gave him made him grin even harder. “The rune stone that caught your eye would look good in the living room in Trondheim, wouldn’t it?”

Oh, to be filthy rich… “It would. The dagger with the gold engraving is also remarkable. And those two rings are incredibly preserved. And the brooch with the—”

“Come see this!” Professor Henriksen called, interrupting me.

He was bent over a pedestal, admiring a piece I hadn’t seen yet. Ulrik and I made our way to him, curious.

“Oh, wow,” I breathed out upon seeing it.

It was a set of gold jewelry, a necklace, and a bracelet, ornate with garnets and amethysts of perfect quality. The craftsmanship shone through the details, but the most impressive thing was its state of preservation. It was possibly from the mid-11th century, but one could hardly guess. The bracelet was a snake biting its own tail, a representation of Jörmungandr, a mythical sea serpent large enough to circle the whole world. As for the necklace, it was composed of five delicately crafted plates.

“Ah,” Mr. Hagen let out, joining us. “This one is one of our main items. Denmark was found in a solitary grave marked by a standing stone. I have never seen such a spectacularly well-preserved set.”

“Me neither,” I concurred. “It must have belonged to the wife of a jarl, at the very least. Maybe a king.”

The artifact was so magnificent, it almost called to me, dared me to touch it and see if it was indeed real. I held back, though, paying my respect in silent admiration.

We continued the tour, and throughout the rest of it, Professor Henriksen radiated warmth and wisdom, reminding me of the reasons I admired him as a teacher. His presence brought a sense of familiarity and comfort, like revisiting a cherished chapter from my past.

The two of us ended up discussing and catching up while Ulrik did one more round with the owner, probably placing his early bids on the pieces he was interested in. Although I was curious, I decided not to intrude, knowing that I’d feel weird about how much money he’d spend on this. This financial gap between us was something that would take time for me to get used to.

“Ulrik told me he gave you access to his collection?” Henriksen asked, glancing at the subject of conversation, which compelled me to do the same.

“It’s…complicated. He came to London and stole a sword from me.”

“Ah, yes. I relayed that email to him. Maybe I shouldn’t have; my apologies.”

“No, it’s alright. We found an arrangement. He can have the sword, but I can borrow anything I want from his collection for an exhibit I’m curating for the museum.”

“I see… Well, his collection is one of the finest I’ve ever seen, so you will be better off.”

“It seems that I will, yes.”

We exchanged a little longer, mostly about my upcoming exhibit, and then the other two joined us. “Alright, I’m good to go,” Ulrik explained, looking positively delighted by this morning’s adventure. Whatever he’d bid on, he was delighted about it. His eyes almost twinkled with satisfaction.

“Per always, it was a pleasure dealing with you, Mr. Westergaard.”

“Oh, this isn’t your first time doing this?” I wondered.

“Mr. Westergaard’s great-grandfather actually helped jumpstart my career,” Hagen explained. “Harald Westergaard was my best client when I first opened shop sixty years ago.”

“I see… So this passion for old artifacts runs deep.”

“It seems to have skipped a generation, but it seems this lad right here is the perfect copy of his grandfather.”

I gave Ulrik a side glance, amused by this new piece of information. “Well, thank you, Mr. Hagen, for sharing these incredible artifacts with us. It was truly a remarkable journey through history,” I said warmly.

“You are most welcome, Miss Connelly. It was a pleasure to have all of you here.”

Ulrik added, “Your collection is exceptional, as always.”

With a sense of camaraderie, Professor Henriksen chimed in, “Indeed, Felix, you have created a wonderful space to honor the past and inspire the present generation with tales of old.”

Mr. Hagen humbly accepted our compliments, and his eyes gleamed with pride. “Thank you all. History should never be forgotten, and I’m grateful for the opportunity to share its wonders with others.”

As we stepped out of the gallery, the crisp air of Oslo greeted us, and our appetites were piqued after a morning of exploration. Professor Henriksen suggested a small but reputable restaurant nearby, renowned for its sea-focused cuisine.

The restaurant’s ambiance was cozy and inviting, and we settled into a corner table surrounded by rustic wooden decor that exuded an air of tradition. The restaurant’s menu featured an array of traditional dishes, each offering a different way to serve fish.

Over the delightful meal, our conversations flowed effortlessly. Professor Henriksen regaled us with stories of his recent historical research, and Ulrik shared his admiration for Nordic art and design. Halfway through it, I excused myself to relieve myself in the restroom. When I returned, I found them having a hushed conversation in their native tongue.

“Are you sure about this, old friend?” Henriksen was asking.

If the secretive tone hadn’t ticked me off already, Ulrik’s answer certainly would have. “You can’t imagine how many hours I’ve spent considering everything.”

I stopped in my tracks so as to not make my presence known and hear more, but it was too late—Henriksen noticed me and straightened up, offering me a smile. The uneasiness that lingered in my guts at the brief moment I’d overheard was quickly dismissed when Ulrik gave me a similar grin. Whatever they’d been talking about didn’t necessarily revolve around me, and it was probably just my trust issues taking over.

Still, I couldn’t entirely help the slight tension that remained etched in the back of my mind, as if my lizard brain was calling for cautiousness, like an instinct I couldn’t entirely control.

It was unfair to Ulrik, though, since he’s been nothing short of perfect since that evening at the airport.

So, dismissing my surely wrongful doubts, I joined them back at the table, plastering a smile on my face.

【13】Close Your Eyes

The afternoon of shopping went a lot better than I’d expected. I hadn’t taken the time for myself like this in months, so it was a welcome self-care moment. Ulrik had offered his credit card since he was the one who put me on the spot at the last moment, but I refused. It was too early for this, and I could pay for my own indulgences.

Since I wasn’t entirely sure about the club he’d take me to, I picked a hybrid dress, one that would fit no matter the ambiance. I really could do no wrong with a little black dress, especially not with a deep square cleavage and a slit that ran high on my left thigh.

I was just out of the shower when Ulrik returned from his afternoon of work. He looked drained from his day, but as soon as he spotted me, wet and wrapped in a white towel, it all faded away.

“What a sight to come home to,” he humored with a naughty grin stretching his lips.

I unwrapped the towel from around my head, biting back my smile. Then, I patted it on the lengthy strands thrown over my shoulder. For some reason, I expected him to head to the shower as well, but he came to me instead. His powerful hand came around, and he pulled me back onto him, his forearm nested right beneath my breasts.

When his warm lips descended on the slope of my neck, brushing against the droplets there, my body shivered from head to toe. “Ulrik… I’m not letting you get me all dirty again.”

“We’ve got time. The club’s activity doesn’t pick up until eleven.”

That meant we had several hours ahead of us, so I was out of arguments when he gently pulled on the towel, unwrapping me like a present. It dropped at our feet, and my skin prickled with goosebumps that had nothing to do with the cool air. When he tugged at it, I let go of the second towel, which joined the first one on the hardwood floor.

“Look at me,” he demanded, his voice entrancing.

The dressing room was adorned with several mirrors, including one right in front of us. That was where I found his blue eyes, intently staring into mine. The sight was possibly the most erotic one I’d ever seen, since I stood there utterly naked while he wore his fine suit, tall and mighty behind me. I fought the urge to shield myself from his penetrative stare—it was useless. He’s already seen me naked, already touched, and licked nearly every part of my exposed body.

With the softest of touches, he ran his knuckles along my side, igniting faint shivers that seemed to pool between my legs. My breath hitched when his lips brushed along my throat, journeying up to my ear.

“Do you know just how beautiful you are, Mila?”

My interest shifted from his hand, which was slowly making its way toward my core, focusing back on his eyes. “I’ve met my fair share of attractive women, kjære , but you… You put them all to shame.”

He kissed my throat again, his fingers having reached the curly mound at the apex of my legs. Eager for more, I sighed and arched against him, slightly spreading my legs as an unmistakable invitation. He smiled, probably entertained by how fast he’d wrapped me into his spell, but didn’t do anything to comply with my silent demand. I watched as my chest rose with shallow breaths, as my skin prickled with the need to be touched, as my eyes grew glassy and hooded… Electricity hung in the surrounding air, weighing it with the promise of what the next couple of hours would be filled with.

While he leisurely toyed with the trim patch of curls, refusing me anything more, his free hand came around to cup my breast. When he pinched its tip, rolling it between his thumb and index with the perfect pressure, I didn’t hold back the moan it triggered, pressing harder onto him. He was erected, long and thick, behind his pleated pants.

“Hmm… I’m almost tempted to stay here and savor you all evening instead,” he said with appreciation.

Despite the delight his words triggered, I felt compelled to protest. “I spent the afternoon looking for the perfect dress. You better take me out, Norseman.”

“Alright, then… We’ll come back early, so I can peel it off of you and worship you the way you deserve.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Finally, oh, finally, his hand between my legs ventured lower, and he gave my clit a soft graze, which was enough to make me buckle against him.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” he suddenly remembered, releasing me entirely. “I got you something.”

A little disoriented and stunned, I watched as his reflection walked away from mine, leaving me alone and horny in the middle of the room. I turned with a slack jaw, watching him disappear into his bedroom. Seconds stretched, and just as I was about to pick up the towel to join him, I heard his footsteps returning.

He was holding a flat velvet box this time, and his eyes greedily took me in as he came closer. It was jewelry, clearly, and something twinged inside me at the thought. It was way too early for a grand gesture with some priceless gift.

“What is it?” I asked, doing my best to mask my anxiety.

“Close your eyes, love.”

“Ulrik, you can’t—”

“As much as I love your stubbornness, Miss Connelly, I must insist. Close your eyes.”

I gave him a reproachful glance in the mirror but decided to comply. Whatever it was, I could always return it afterward. With a sigh, I forced my eyelids to shut, bracing myself for whatever he’d gotten me.

Behind me, I heard him settle the box on the settee and then came the delicate clinks of metal. I sensed his heat enveloping me, and then something cold grazed my chest, surrounded my throat, and he locked it on my nape. I waited, somehow torn between delectation and anxiousness, ignoring the way my chest was expanding at his delicate attentions.

“You can open them,” he whispered, resting his chin on my shoulder and drawing a line with his fingertips right under the necklace’s cold touch.

My eyes fluttered open and instantly fell on the magnificent piece of jewelry, its beauty magnified by my nakedness. It was the sublime necklace from the gallery, the one made of gold, garnets, and amethysts. How had he made this even more insane than everything I had anticipated?

This nine-hundred years old masterpiece belonged in a museum, not around my neck. Hell, even just letting it touch my skin felt sacrilegious, as I would normally use gloves to handle such a priceless artifact.

“Ulrik, what the hell?” I breathed out, completely flabbergasted.

“You liked it, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but—”

“I can’t think of a single pedestal that would do it justice more than your neck does.”

I blinked several times, admiring the necklace, struggling to accept this was reality. I reached up to touch it, needing to confirm it wasn’t my mind playing tricks on it, and when my fingers brushed the precise carvings in the gold, I jolted them away. It was real. Undeniably so.

“Ulrik, this is too much.”

“It’s actually not enough. But we’ll get there.”

Before I could protest further, which I was definitely going to do, he resumed his earlier ministrations, snaking a deft hand between my legs and bringing the other one to my breast.

“Look at yourself, Mila,” he murmured, rolling his fingertips around my sensitive nub. “It was made to be worn by you.”

While he teased my nipple, he entered me with two thick fingers, robbing me of my breath. It was too much. Way too much. It went against my ethics and common sense. But I could see what he meant. Wearing it brought this necklace alive, giving it another chance to serve the purpose for which it was destined.

“She might have been a queen, a princess, a fru… And now it has made its way to you, elskling . Isn’t fate a funny thing?”

“It’s not fate, it’s—Mmh…” I struggled to talk, fighting against the arousal to keep a clear chain of thoughts. “It’s money.”

“But fate brought you Haakon’s sword, and then it brought you to me. Fate gave the necklace to Mr. Hagen, and it put you in the same room, along with a man who can’t think of a better way to spend his money than by doing this.”

I was so wet now that we could hear it—the moist sound of his fingers pushing in and out of my drenched slit. Of course, I wanted to fight him more on this, well aware that it was too much. But with every brush of his knuckles against my intimate walls, I was losing more and more determination to do it.

“Do you think that whoever offered this to his wife, fiancé, mistress… demanded to see it like this? On nothing but skin?” he asked, lazily pumping his fingers inside me, igniting a wave of pleasure that rolled in my entire body.

“Maybe…”

“It would be a shame if he didn’t. Look at how beautiful it is on you.”

It was. The gold worked well with my complexion, and with the redness of my cheeks, the garnets looked bright like rubies.

“Do you think he fucked her with it, Mila? Just like I’m about to fuck you wearing it?”

I let out a trembling breath, my head falling back on his broad shoulder. The sensuality of the moment had won me over, but in the back of my mind, I already knew I would return this ludicrous gift. It was beyond too much, and I didn’t have the capacity to protect and secure such a valuable treasure.

The hand that was playing with my nipple rose to my neck, and my insides fluttered when his fingers and palm wrapped around the delicate skin. He used the hold to force me to twist my face so he could claim my lips in a deep and needy kiss, his warm tongue slipping inside my mouth with eagerness.

In my core, the pleasure was building up, his fingers expertly conjuring it while the base of his thumb massaged my pulsing clit. The necklace quickly became the last thing on my mind, my moans and whimpers landing in his earnest mouth.

“Are you going to come for me, Mila?”

“Yes…”

“Such a good girl… So receptive…”

He pushed deeper, still slow and taunting, but when his fingers grazed right where I needed them the most, I buckled with a small cry. The fine fabric of his suit against my back reminded me of how erotic the situation was, and the hard length poking in my back made me crave so much more than his index and middle finger.

“Make me come,” I begged, writhing against his erection.

His pace increased, and so did the pressure against my aching clit, and my climax became an unstoppable force. He did everything perfectly, and before I knew it, my walls were pulsing around his fingers, my cries echoed in the dressing room, and my entire body shivered from head to toe, undulating against his solid frame.

Ulrik held me onto him, assisting my balance as I rode the waves of bliss, overwhelmed by pleasure. But even then, even during the peak of it, I knew I wanted more. I needed him to fuck me, to ravage me with the hard length trapped between us, to take me until I was out of orgasms to give, turning me into a sweaty and limp mess. He was with me throughout the descent, laying small pecks on the side of my face while I panted, his fingers slowing down between my legs.

When he pulled them out, the empty sensation left me needing more. I was still numbed by the pleasure, but seeing him bring the drenched fingers into his mouth shook me out of it.

“Hmm… So fucking sweet, love.”

I was still panting, still trying to recuperate from the sight and the orgasm, when he passed his arms behind me to lift me up. I hooked one of mine over his neck, taken by surprise by the gesture, and watched his gorgeous face as he walked out of the small room with me. His eyes lowered, first to my flushed cheeks, then to the necklace, which felt heavy against my skin, and then to my breasts below.

“If I could, Mila, I’d put you in a glass cabinet, looking like you do right now, and never allow anyone else to witness your perfection.”

The words should have worried me, but the possessiveness in his tone, the sheer admiration, caused my chest to swell with pride. He was a lover of all things beautiful, an avid collector, and this was the greatest compliment he could have paid me, a testimony to how attractive he found me.

We matched one another’s tastes in an uncanny way, and my hunger for him was patched by his for me. The fact that we couldn’t get enough of one another was proof of that.

【14】Black & Gold

Clearly, Ulrik was doing everything in his power to woo me, and while his technique didn’t really work on me, the fact that he was trying so hard did. Still, I was a little impressed by his incredible vintage Aston Martin™, which was a beautiful blue and green iridescent color. It fended through the streets of Oslo with formidable ease, especially given Ulrik’s expert driving. The low vibrations of its engine were strangely alluring, and its roars whenever Ulrik picked up the pace were definitely sexy.

It was a good thing I’d slipped a condom in my bra before leaving. I might ask him to take a detour on our way back, so we could find a dark and quiet alley, isolated enough for us to fuck in his car.

The building we arrived at was older than the surrounding ones, yet it was the only one with a crowd gathered before it. There was a line of party-goers that went around the block, and I worried for an instant that we might not get in. Ulrik drove past them, though, and stopped the car right before the grand entrance. Someone from the club was by my door before I could open it, and Ulrik took his place to help me out, extending a stable hand.

As I rose out of the low car, I couldn’t help but be in awe of the sheer luxury surrounding us. The club’s exterior exuded sophistication, and the anticipation of what lay inside made my heart race with excitement. Its name, Bifröst, was written in white glowing cursive letters.

Ulrik looked dashing in his black dress shirt and pants, exuding an air of elegance and refinement. As for me, the tight-fitting black dress matched the ambiance of the upscale venue. Despite his insistence, and even though it suited the dress to perfection, I’d refused to wear the necklace, worried it might get snatched throughout our evening of clubbing. Wearing such a priceless treasure in a room packed with intoxicated people would have been stupid. I was wearing the Jörmungandr bracelet, though, since the fit was perfect, so one couldn’t take it off without me noticing it.

A valet entered Ulrik’s car to drive it away, and the latter led me hand in hand to the club’s entrance. I could already hear the pulsating beats of music and guess at the flashing lights within. The tall and broad man guarding the entrance nodded at Ulrik and allowed us in without a word. Feeling both like a fraud and a queen, I gazed at the long line of people trying to get in.

I didn’t have time to dwell on it, though, as Ulrik pulled me inside, resting a hand on my lower back. Music filled my ears, its bass tunes vibrating in my chest. The energy was infectious as we stood at the edge of the pit, where people danced with abandon to the rhythm of the music. The club was alive with laughter, chatter, and the clinking of glasses, creating an atmosphere of pure indulgence.

I’d never heard music like this, a stunning mix of clubhouse and ancient Viking chants and instruments. But given the club’s name, which came from Norse mythology—the bridge between our world and the gods’—I should have expected that this place honored the old ways.

We stood there for a moment, entranced by the sways of the crowd and the dancing lights about them, until Ulrik then led me to a great door ornate with gold and detailed carvings. There, a high desk stood, manned by a well-dressed gentleman of advanced age. Ulrik and the man exchanged a nod of recognition.

“Here with a date tonight, sir?” the man asked.

“Yes, this is Miss Mila Connelly. She will be my guest upstairs for the evening.”

“Of course.” The old man opened a drawer and pulled out two silver bracelets from it before settling them on the counter—a large one and a smaller one.

Ulrik frowned at them as if taken aback, and he shook his hand. “Black for the lady,” he corrected.

It was the old man’s turn to be surprised as his eyes traveled between the two of us, then the bracelets, then back to me. “Yes, of course,” he eventually said, taking back the small bracelet to exchange it with a black one.

Ulrik picked them up and handed me the black one before slipping the silver one around his thick wrist. A little confused by what had just happened, I stared at my bracelet. It was sober, just a metallic band with an opening to slip it around the wrist.

I still hadn’t put it on when Ulrik spurred me on, pressing a soft hand on my back. He led me to an elevator, which had a bouncer before it. The broad man gazed down at our bracelets, which prompted me to put mine on.

“What are those for?” I asked once we were on our way up, alone.

“Access. The upper part of the club is extremely exclusive, and bracelets are color coded.”

“What does black mean?”

“That you’re a special guest.”

I wondered what he meant by “special,” but whatever strict policies this place had, I trusted him to know better. “And silver?”

“Gold, silver, and bronze are members. Black and white are guests.”

The cast system wasn’t hard to understand, and it baffled me that there might be some gold members above Ulrik. We’d literally arrived in James Bond’s car, and he wasn’t even at the top of this club’s hierarchy.

When the doors parted with an elegant ding , I couldn’t help but marvel at the opulent surroundings. The luxurious decoration was a striking blend of modern and old, with sleek designer furniture tastefully juxtaposed alongside ancient artifacts. The fusion of contemporary elegance and historical treasures created an enchanting space that was both captivating and evocative.

A bar stood against one wall, a masterpiece of craftsmanship and design. Bartenders skillfully prepared extravagant cocktails, mixing premium spirits with a touch of artistry. The array of shimmering bottles behind the bar, just under the luminous Bifröst sign, showcased an impressive selection, promising an exquisite taste experience. The waiting staff moved gracefully among the members and guests, carrying trays adorned with beautifully crafted cocktails, each a work of art in itself.

There was an opening that led to what must have been a backroom with more private spaces and another security guard standing before it. On the opposite side, on our right, a glass wall revealed a breathtaking view of the pit below, where the energetic dance floor and dazzling lights seemed to come alive like a kaleidoscope of colors. The music’s thumping beat echoed faintly through the glass, adding a touch of excitement to the exclusive ambiance. From there, I could see the stage where a woman expertly maneuvered the plates before her, deftly controlling the music that had everyone jumping and dancing.

Ulrik guided me toward a stewardess, her black uniform crisp and fitted to perfection. “Welcome, honorable guests,” she saluted us with reverence. Someone came to take our coats, and then the woman invited us to follow with a gesture of her hand. This place’s standards were through the roof, really.

We walked side by side as she guided us toward a private corner by the glass wall, where she settled two drink menus. We sank into the comfortable leather sofa once she was gone. The smooth texture beneath my fingertips mirrored the sophistication of the night, and the soft lighting cast a warm glow, cocooning us in an aura of intimacy. As I looked around in awe, I couldn’t help but notice the other guests in the VIP section. They exuded an air of elegance and charm, dressed impeccably in fine attire that complemented the luxurious setting. Soft laughter and engaging conversations filled the air, creating a harmonious symphony that blended with the music below.

“This place is amazing,” I noted, frankly impressed. “Do you come often?”

“Every time I’m in Oslo.”

“So, a few times per month. How does one become a member?”

An enigmatic grin stretched his lips. “The selection process is extensive, and the requirements are extremely restrictive.”

“Privileged, much?” I humorously asked.

“I’m aware, yes. But I try to let the less privileged among us enjoy the benefits of it.”

I grinned broadly, feeling indeed lucky to be here with him.

In need of a drink, I picked up the menu and scanned through it. There were so many options with names I’d never seen before that I quickly gave up and turned to Ulrik, who wasn’t even looking through the options, apparently already knowing them.

“Any recommendations?”

“Hmm… You should try the espresso negroni. You like bitterness, so it should be perfect for you.”

“That sounds really good, actually,” I agreed. “What are you getting?”

“A Penicillin.”

“What is that?” I wondered, having never heard of it.

“Scotch, honey-ginger syrup, lemon juice, and a touch of smoky Islay Scotch.”

“That also sounds good. You’ll let me have a taste?”

He offered me a crooked smile, resting a warm hand over my thigh. “Of course, elskling .”

With an elegant wave of his hand, he conjured the waitress back to our side. He placed our orders, and she faded into the background again.

My eyes drifted to the pit below, where people were still dancing and having the time of their lives. The music was so distinctive, and the traditional beats which were native to this land added something primal to it, matching the electronic sounds to perfection. I could help my body from reacting to it, and the leg that was crossed on top of the other bounced in rhythm, the tip of my high heel moving up and down.

Up here, people didn’t dance much. It was more of a lounge, a parlor-like space meant for mingling and conversations. The bracelets probably served the purpose of going in and out of the VIP section in case the members and guests wished to join the pit for some heated and sweaty moments among the crowd.

I was about to tell Ulrik we needed to head downstairs soon when someone’s hand appeared between us to firmly grip Ulrik’s shoulder. The first thing I noticed was the bracelet, a striking band of gold.

“Hi there, old friend,” the stranger said in Norwegian, his regional accent hard to pinpoint exactly.

Ulrik looked up, and upon recognizing the newcomer, he smiled. “Tyr, it has been a while.”

“It has.”

The man’s interest switched to me, then to Ulrik’s hand, which lay on my thigh, and my hand over it. “Who might this lovely creature be?”

“Mila darling, this is Tyr, an old… friend. Tyr, this is the lovely Mila Connelly.”

“Delighted to meet you, Miss Connelly.”

“Likewise,” I tentatively said.

Tyr hesitated for a slight moment and then squeezed Ulrik’s shoulder in an inviting way. “May I have a talk with you, friend?”

Ulrik looked at me, pondering. Clearly, he didn’t feel comfortable leaving me alone, but he also came here because there were people he wanted to meet. I gave him a nod, encouraging him to go. After another few seconds of hesitancy, he returned to his friend. “Yes, of course.” He gave my hand a longing kiss and said, “I’ll be right back, love.”

I leaned onto the comfortable sofa as he rose and then watched him walk away with Tyr. When the man laid an arm around Ulrik’s massive shoulders, I noticed the stiffness of his hand. It was a prosthetic, the rigid cast of a hand frozen in a somewhat natural pose. They both went to the door that led to the backroom, and the security guard allowed them in with a nod.

The spectacle of the club below quickly distracted me from his departure, and I observed the lively bunch vibing with the tunes. A couple of minutes after Ulrik had left, the waitress came back with our cocktails. I had in mind to wait for his return, but curiosity got the best of me, and I took a long sip of mine. God, it was delicious. Ulrik had hit the nail right on the head, and it was perfectly to my liking. I tried his drink since he was okay with it, and while it was a great beverage, too, it wasn’t as catered to my tastes.

Halfway into my glass, Ulrik hadn’t returned yet, and droplets of condensations were glistening on his. Maybe I should bring it to him, so he could enjoy it before it was too tepid. I took another long sip into mine and rose from the couch to head to the back room with his glass in hand.

As I reached it, though, the bouncer stepped in front of me and shook his head.

“I’m just bringing a glass to someone inside,” I explained in Norwegian, showing him the drink.

He shook his head again. “No black bracelet past this point.”

Confused, I looked down at the band on my wrist. “Just the black ones?”

The man nodded, intransigeant. As if sent to prove it, someone with a white bracelet arrived, and the bouncer allowed them in. With Ulrik’s glass still in my hand, I returned to the sofa, trying to gather my conflicted thoughts. Downstairs at the high desk, the old man had initially given me a silver bracelet, and Ulrik had been the one to have it changed. What if his explanation of the workings of this place were lies? What if he’d wanted to make sure I’d be stuck here while he could do whatever he needed back there?

Puzzled, I downed the glass I was holding, barely realizing it. Then, what was left of my drink followed the same treatment, and I was out of things to occupy myself with. Maybe I should head downstairs and dance. It would clear my mind and make me feel better.

Just as I was about to do that, someone sat by my side. Taken aback, I slipped further away from the stranger, frowning as I examined his features. He had chestnut hair, slightly too long and disheveled, and eyes so dark I couldn’t differentiate the iris from the pupil. Those shark-like eyes seemed to hold a gloomy intensity. His physical appearance wasn’t conventionally attractive, but there was an undeniable charisma that emanated from him.

His smile was enigmatic, bordering on unsettling, and it sent a cold shiver down my spine. There was something about him that made me feel uneasy as if he could see right through me with those penetrating eyes. He leaned in closer, invading my personal space ever so slightly, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I could feel the weight of his gaze, almost as if he were trying to read my thoughts. His presence was captivating, yet there was an underlying sense of discomfort that I couldn’t shake.

Who was this, and why was he looking at me like he knew me?

When he spoke, his words were laced with a touch of arrogance, giving him an air of assurance that bordered on overconfidence.

“So, whose pet are you, little one?”

【15】Flawless Harmony

Although the man hadn’t sat next to me for more than ten seconds, I found myself growing increasingly anxious for Ulrik’s return. I longed for his reassuring presence, a comfort that would dispel the uneasy atmosphere that surrounded me.

“Excuse me?” I asked, unsure I’d heard him correctly.

His expression, as if he believed he held all the answers, and his self-assured demeanor only added to the unease I felt. He gestured toward my bracelet. “This means you’re here with someone, and we’re meant to avoid you,” he explained.

The confusion caused my eyebrows to knit together as I glanced down at the black band adorning my wrist. What? Did a black bracelet truly mean that? I looked around, assessing the other bracelets, and while I could see gold, silver, bronze, and quite a few white, I couldn’t see a single black one.

Something twinged in my chest, a mix of doubt and betrayal at the idea that Ulrik might have used my lack of knowledge to do this. There was a massive difference between him saying he wished he could keep me all to himself like a priceless artifact and him isolating me from the world like this.

Realizing that I was giving the word of a perfect stranger more weight than my trust in Ulrik, I reeled back my conflicted emotions and gave the man a blank stare. “Maybe you should keep avoiding me, then,” I said with feigned confidence.

He smiled a crooked, icey smile that revealed his sharp canine. “This one, however…” he continued nevertheless, gesturing at the Jörmungandr bracelet, “…it’s a fine piece. And a very interesting choice of lore. I saw you enter with…Westergaard, is it?”

My eyes instinctively darted to the backroom, hoping Ulrik would return soon. The unease this man conjured in me was tying my stomach in knots. The man was of relatively tall build, from what I could see, but he was undeniably slender. Since Ulrik would clearly have a physical advantage over him, I decided to use that as a way to protect myself.

“I’m here with him, yes. And he’s a very possessive man, so maybe you should leave before he returns.”

The stranger chuckled, a deep sound that sounded false and eerie. “I’m not afraid of your date, young one. I’m above him, you see,” he explained, raising his hand as he twisted his arm to proudly reveal his bracelet from under his dark green tweed jacket. He was a gold member.

“Good for you. I would like to return to my quiet contemplation if you don’t mind.”

I did just that, dismissing the breathy chuckle that poured out of him and focussing on the pit below. If I ignored him for long enough, he would eventually move on. Adding to what was happening, I could feel the altering effect of the booze, which I’d downed too fast. It seemed that the bar was generous in its dosage, and the alcohol was already making its way into my bloodstream.

“You’re feisty. I like that,” he noted, which made my skin crawl. Even in a place like this, a woman couldn’t be left alone?

Just as I was about to ask him to leave me be again, I sensed a hand grazing my bare arm. The unwanted gesture was my breaking point. An instinctual surge of adrenaline coursed through my veins. My body seemed to move of its own accord as my Krav Maga training kicked in.

Without a second thought, I swiftly grabbed hold of his wrist, using a combination of speed and precision to catch him off guard. With a fluid motion, I twisted his arm around, which forced him to bend away from me as my free hand pressed between his shoulder blades. That immobilized him without causing harm but made it abundantly clear that I would not tolerate his unwanted advances.

“Leave me alone,” I asserted firmly, my voice resolute and unwavering.

As the creep winced in discomfort, his arrogant demeanor faltered, replaced with a mixture of surprise and embarrassment. It was evident that he hadn’t expected such resistance, and the realization that his advances had been thwarted left him visibly unnerved.

The sudden action drew the attention of the VIP section, and the room seemed to hold its breath for a moment. The commotion around us momentarily paused as people turned their heads to witness the unexpected confrontation.

Only then did I question my impulsive action. This extremely exclusive club surely didn’t tolerate such displays, and I might get not only myself but also Ulrik in trouble. As swiftly as I’d seized him, I released the man and raised my hands to show my willingness to let this altercation end now.

In the corner of my eye, I caught sight of a tall blond man approaching, his confident stride and authoritative aura captivating the room. He had a striking resemblance to Ulrik, with the sharp jawline, the sky-blue eyes, and the strong brow. Even though this was Norway and blond men with blue eyes and perfect bone structure were common currency, the likeliness made me pause for an instant.

As the handsome man reached us, his piercing eyes surveyed the scene, quickly assessing the situation. There was an air of authority about him, and he exuded an aura of protectiveness that put me at ease, even in the aftermath of the confrontation.

The blond man wasted no time in stepping forward, resting a firm hand on the creep’s shoulder. “What have you done this time?” The tall blond then turned his attention to me, his expression filled with concern. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” I replied, feeling a sense of gratitude for his protective presence.

Displaying an uncanny amount of strength, he lifted the man by the tweed of his jacket and brought him to his feet. The creep sent me a glare, in which I guessed some amount of curiosity mixed with shock.

“Time to head back,” the blond said before offering me a grave nod.

I watched as they walked away toward the backroom, still not over what had just happened. Was I not in trouble, after all? The blond man’s attitude made me think that the creep was renowned for this kind of behavior. It was clearly not the first time he’s acted this way, and everyone was back to their conversations, ignoring me entirely. Maybe I would be okay after all, despite losing my temper.

My eyes drifted down to my hands, wondering where that uncanny turmoil had come from. Was it his words about the bracelet which had planted a seed of doubt in my head? Was it his ominous aura? The drinks?

Whatever it was, I was to blame for my reaction. Yes, he shouldn’t have touched me or insisted, but I should have been more diplomatic. I turned to the backroom door, growing increasingly frustrated that Ulrik wasn’t here. What was he doing there? A few minutes passed, my annoyance ever-growing.

Then, a waitress arrived with a fancy cocktail on her tray. “This is from one of our members,” she explained with a polite smile. “To apologize for the…disturbance.”

My attention drifted to the back door, wary. “Is it from the brown-haired one?”

“No, miss. It’s from the blond one. He hopes you will excuse his friend’s poor manners.”

I glanced at the door again. Had the glass been from the creep, I wouldn’t have touched it for fear it might be spiked. But this clearly came straight from the bar, and they hadn’t been in this part of the lounge since they’d left, so the drink was safe. I gave the waitress a nod, and she settled the glass before me on the table.

I mindlessly took it, curious to discover its flavor. The color was unique, between lilac and lavender, and what must be edible glitter was glimmering within. Dear God, the taste that spread on my tongue was…heavenly. I couldn’t even determine which liquor it was or which fruits were in the juice. But the mix of it was absolutely stellar.

As the vibrant music pulsated through the club, drawing me in with its hypnotic rhythm, I found myself growing increasingly frustrated with Ulrik’s absence. The VIP section had lost its allure, and the temptation of the dance floor below became irresistible. Downing the last of my drink, I made a spontaneous decision, determined to empty my mind and let the music guide me. I left the VIP lounge behind, walked up to the elevator, and rode it down. When the door parted, the languid tunes loudly filled my ears.

I wasted no time making my way to the pit, immersing myself in the energy of it, where bodies moved and undulated as one with the intoxicating beats. I still couldn’t get over this flawless harmony between old and new, entranced by the war drums, horns, tagelharpa, chants… which blended perfectly with the electronic music the DJ layered over them.

It didn’t take long for me to get absorbed by it and start dancing among the countless bodies there. Undulating amidst the crowd, I lost myself in the music, feeling the electric energy coursing through me. I swayed and moved with abandon, my worries and frustrations melting away with every step. In the pit, moving as one giant organism with the others, I forgot about that creepy man and Ulrik abandoning me. My head spun, possibly because of the music, more likely because of the three cocktails I’d downed in half an hour. Especially since we hadn’t eaten much before leaving Ulrik’s penthouse.

My eyes often dared up to the large glass wall of the VIP section. I saw people there, talking and mingling, but never Ulrik. Whatever he was doing, he was still in the backroom, discarding my existence entirely.

The songs morphed into new ones, bringing new prying eyes and hands of some men who sought to join me on the dance floor. Dodging their advances and slithering deeper into the pit, I felt a surge of irritation at their audacity. I had come here to find solace in the music, not to be bothered by unwanted attention.

Just as my frustration threatened to overwhelm me, a hand snaked around my waist to hold me possessively. Before I even looked down, before I saw the tattoos on the muscular forearm, I knew it was him . The electric shiver his touch triggered gave it away. His big and firm body, already so familiar, welcomed mine in his embrace, my back plastered to his front, and he followed my gestures, sensuously grinding against me in beat with the music. I should have pushed him away like I had the other men. His attitude toward me since we’d arrived had been awful, and I deserved better than to be abandoned for as long as he had.

But Christ, it felt good to be in his arms. Especially with the way we moved together, his crotch pressed on my behind, hardening a little more every time I pushed against it. Despite the hundreds of people around us, it was remarkably erotic, like foreplay that everyone could see. His hand on my stomach held me tightly, and when I leaned my head onto his solid shoulder with closed eyes, I felt the corner of his lips meet my temple, his warmth enveloping me entirely.

A veil of sweat was already on my arms and chest, but everything within me warmed up under his touch. We danced like this for several minutes, moving in perfect synchronicity, shamelessly arousing one another.

He was as hard as steel behind me, his breath hot across the side of my face, his hand clutching the fabric of my dress. The other one snaked around me from the other side, and he unabashedly ran in over my breasts, surely sensing my perky nipples, before lowering it between my legs. My eyes whipped open, shocked by his bold gesture, and the flashing lights of the club, as well as the packed crowd, reminded me that no one could see what we were doing with precision, lost in their own trance anyway.

“Ulrik,” I moaned when he cupped my sex, his audacious fingers separated from it by the thin fabrics of my dress and thong.

He said nothing, tracing a firm and tantalizing circle right over my clit. I shivered against him, swallowing back a moan and arching my back onto his erection. I was already drenched from the dancing, so it was no wonder he sensed it through the flimsy barrier.

“You’re soaked,” he groaned in my ear.

I nodded because what else could I do? Just as he slithered his fingers toward the slit of my dress, my eyes traveled to the VIP lounge as if compelled to. Standing before the window up there, the creepy man from earlier was looking down, observing the pit with interest. Because I’d just been there, I knew he couldn’t be looking at us in particular since it looked like a human sea from up there, a meddled mass of arms, shoulders, and heads. He couldn’t see us , wholly lost in our state of abandonment.

But I could swear his eyes were on me, staring, studying, and it made the unease he’d caused resurface. Suddenly, the man behind me, the one who was reaching the lace of my thong and toying with the elastic at its side, became much less appealing.

Ulrik had abandoned me in a place I’d never been, surrounded by people I’d never met before, leaving me to fend off for myself. Clearly, I could fight my own battles, but he was in the wrong for it, still. The annoyance of being ignored for most of the night took over everything else.

I turned around in Ulrik’s hold to glare up at him. The lust on his face swiftly turned to puzzlement as my own arousal switched to anger. I wanted to feel cherished and needed, not simply a fleeting presence in the background. The mixed emotions welled up inside me, and I couldn’t suppress my frustration any longer. With a sense of determination, I firmly shoved his broad torso, extricating myself from his hold, and gave him a pointed look before turning away.

“I need space,” I muttered, my voice barely audible above the music.

My bag was still up there, as well as my coat. I needed to get them and then find my way back to his place. I was done with this evening.

【16】The Back Room

I snaked my way out of the crowd with relative ease, swaying between the dancers and avoiding collisions as I walked toward the elevator. Behind me, I heard Ulrik call my name, but I ignored him, hoping his broad build would make it hard for him to follow me. As soon as I was freed from the mass, I hastened my steps and walked to the elevator. My escape might have worked if the damned things had been here already rather than up there.

The doors were barely opening when Ulrik joined me, gently grabbing my arm. “Mila, what’s wrong?”

I shook my arm out of his hold and glared up at him. “You have to ask, really?”

Before he could answer, I stepped into the elevator. Of course, he joined me there, and I turned my gaze away. But with the mirrors surrounding us, he was everywhere at once, and escaping his stare was nearly impossible.

“I’m sorry I took so long, elskling . Tyr had a lot of…questions.”

“I don’t care,” I lied.

“You obviously do. I’m sorry I was away for too long, Mila.”

Finally, I met his blue irises, hating that I could already feel my anger dissipate. “It’s not just that. What does black mean?” I demanded, shoving my wrist in his face.

“I told you, it means you’re a special guest.”

“Really? One that’s private property and shouldn’t be approached?”

Slight confusion claimed his features, but not the kind I was hoping for. On his face, I read some admittance of guilt. “Who told you thi—”

“Some creepy rando who came to harass me while you were doing God knows what back there. Which, by the way, I know is only restricted to black bracelets. So, congrats on ensuring I’d be kept away while you handle your affairs.”

The doors opened again, and I stepped out of the elevator, eager to escape him. “Mila, it’s not like that,” he insisted, catching up with me.

“Like what? Like you made sure the man handling the desk would give me a bracelet that not only claimed your ownership of me but also kept me out of the one place you plan on spending the night in?”

Although I was doing my best to control my voice and not cause a scene, my heated retort attracted the curious interest of a few people around us. Ulrik noticed, scanning our surroundings with unease.

“I’m not your property, Ulrik. And I’m not the kind of woman you can abandon for nearly an hour like an obedient bitch.”

Ulrik’s frustration became palpable, his resolve hardening. In a move that caught me off guard, he seized my arm, his grip firm and determined. Without a word, he began pulling me away from the prying interest and judgmental gazes of the onlookers. My eyes widened when I saw where he was dragging me, and I stopped trying to wrench my wrist out of his grasp.

The bouncer at the back room entrance started to object, raising his hand, “Sir,” he began. But Ulrik’s intent was unwavering, and he bypassed the bouncer with a stern gaze that left no room for argument.

As we entered the back room, a hushed atmosphere enveloped us. The opulence of the VIP lounge was amplified here, with private alcoves separated by heavy and dark velour drapes. Some people were seated in those, among which I recognized Ulrik’s friend and other people I’d seen during the evening. Chandeliers cast a warm, dim glow, and gold decor adorned the surroundings, creating an aura of luxury and seclusion. In my eagerness to discover this exclusive space, I almost forgot about my annoyance and anger, absorbed by our surroundings’ lavishness.

There was a golden door at the end of it, guarded by two men in suits. What was that? Yet another level of above the VIP’s VIP? This place, which had seemed so incredible upon arriving, now felt overly pompous and pretentious. Those people needed a reality check to realize they weren’t that important.

Ulrik’s grip on my arm didn’t falter as he guided me through the lavish expanse. The air was thick with tension, and I could feel the weight of our argument lingering between us. As we reached one of the private alcoves, Ulrik pulled the drapes closed with a swift motion, effectively shutting out the outside world.

The secluded space cocooned us in a world of our own, a realm where our voices could lower to a more intimate tone. The dimmed lights seemed to soften the edges of my emotions, allowing me a moment of respite from the chaos of the club.

“There, you’re in the back room. Are you satisfied now?”

I squinted my eyes at him, disliking his condescending tone. Or maybe I was perceiving it that way, and he was only irritated.

“Listen,” Ulrik began, his voice softer now, the frustration still present but tempered by a hint of vulnerability. We were no longer surrounded by prying eyes and judgment; it was just the two of us facing each other in a more personal space. “I’m trying, Mila. I’m being as open and honest as possible, but you’re not ready for some of it.”

“Like what?” I challenged.

“You will know when it’s time.”

I scoffed, rolled my eyes, and then glared at him. “This isn’t what we discussed, Ulrik. When you came to get me at the airport and begged me to stay and give you yet another chance, you promised you’d be honest with me. That you’d try to make things work between us.”

“And I am. But this … It’s too soon.”

“ What is?“ I insisted again. “Are you involved in some illegal activities?”

His eyebrows came together as if he was surprised that this would be my first idea. “I’m not,” he countered.

Part of me wanted to believe him, especially since he sounded so genuine, but doubt lingered in my mind. Something was afoot, and I wasn’t letting him get out of this easily.

“Then tell me, Ulrik.”

He passed a hand in his hair, messing it up slightly. “Must you be so stubborn all the time?”

The way my jaw dropped must have been almost comical, but I was too angry to let it distract me. “You can’t seriously expect me to roll over and act like it’s nothing, you asshole.”

“No, I’m asking you to trust me.”

“Trust isn’t something you can demand. It’s something you earn.”

His jaw ticked, tightly clenched. He knew I was right, but he wasn’t used to not getting his way. “Then I will trade your trust for the world, Mila. If you trust me and give me the time I need to share everything with you, I will give you the world. I will give you my entire self, my whole being. But I need you to trust me.”

My heart skipped a beat, deeply affected by how hard he was trying and by how intense his plea was. “You’re asking too much, Ulrik.”

“But I will give you everything in return for it. Everything . Every last convoluted corner of my mind, every dark secret, every ounce of my being. This, right now, is all I’m asking in return.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I stared at him, flabbergasted. I was too tipsy for this, too frustrated and emotional. Ulrik’s devotion was absolute, and if I harbored any doubts that he was playing with me, they would have dissipated right then.

Trusting him was so little in comparison to what he would return to me. As if he could sense my hesitation, he came closer, laying gentle hands on my sides in an effort to reconnect. I hated how well it worked, how my body relaxed at his touch, how I longed to lose myself in his embrace.

“I’m not used to this, Mila—opening up, sharing… But I’m getting there. I just need you to be patient.”

As I looked up in his cerulean eyes, I saw the plea in them. He meant all that, and he was genuinely trying to make this thing between us work. Ever since that day at the airport, I’d grown more and more confident that it could. But now, for the first time, I doubted it. He had his demons and past looming over his present, and they had never felt so potent. I wanted to believe he was all worth it, but in all truth, I wasn’t sure.

But what if he was? What if trusting him now and ignoring the alarms going off in my head led to the most incredible adventure of my life? We were so utterly compatible in many aspects—our interest in history, our matching intellects, our sexual harmony… He was the most interesting person I’d ever met, and I’d met a plethora of riveting people through my work and studies. With him by my side, life could never be boring, and every day would bring its share of intrigue and unique endeavors.

And this was the price for it. Turning a blind eye to his secrets. Right now.

I hated this with all my heart. I was a curious person by nature, and my work pushed me toward uncovering hidden and forgotten truths even more. So, agreeing to his terms went against my entire being. But the rewards for it were unfathomable.

In our lifetime, we’re all subjected to a few decisions that can alter the entire course of our future. One wrong choice, and it all turns into something entirely different from what could have been. This felt like one of those moments where my future could lead to two very different paths, depending on what I chose.

But if I was being honest, I didn’t really have a choice. Not when I was wrapped in his mesmerizing embrace, lost in his eyes, surrounded by the clean and compelling scent of him. He already had too much power over me, and the mere thought of ending things over some stupid secrets felt terribly wrong. Ulrik had turned me into a pathetic simp, and the cocktails only played in his favor.

I wanted him in so many different ways.

Because it was the only way I could think of to make all the noise in my head stop, I reached up for his nape and pulled him down to kiss him. Maybe we were doomed, and maybe this very moment was the beginning of our downfall. But I would be stupid to end it all together. This man’s potential outweighed the risks ten times over.

Ulrik was hesitant at first, his hands frozen at our sides while I kissed him feverishly. Maybe he wanted to talk this out rather than let our bodies speak for themselves, but I didn’t. I was too intoxicated to have such a serious talk, and it wouldn’t matter anyway. I was already trapped, already falling for the man despite his walls and secrets.

When finally, his hands came to rest on my back, his powerful arms enveloping me in their warmth, I relaxed another degree and deepened our kiss. This we were good at— great at, even.

The sense of familiarity that took over as we got lost in one another chased away all other thoughts. As always when we got intimate, I forgot about everything that wasn’t him or this very moment.

My fingers clutched the silky fabric of his shirt at the opening of his collar, and I pulled him closer, shoving a bold tongue in his mouth, licking with eagerness. His hand lowered to my behind, and he gripped the soft mound with matching intensity. The electric sparks that flew within me made me moan in our kiss, my legs trembling with the need that was rapidly drawing between them. Our sensual dance in the pit had left me wet and needy, and this kiss was now the final blow to my resolve.

As he angled his face to the side to deepen our kiss, I was reminded of his car and how I planned on having sex in it. But even that felt too far away, and the thick curtains that isolated us from the rest of the backroom looked like enough. They probably weren’t, but between the booze and the lust, I couldn’t find a reason to care. I probably wouldn’t set foot in this place again because if I was being honest with myself, this thing with Ulrik would most likely be nothing more than a flash fire, brief, intense, and leaving nothing behind but our scorched souls. But I would embrace this heat while it lasted and let it burn me all the way to my bones.

Never halting our kiss, I pushed back against him until he hit the cushioned sofa behind him. “Sit,” I ordered, planting my nails in his broad shoulders as I pushed him down.

“Mila, let’s go back to my pl—”

“No, I need you now.”

I pushed against him hard enough to make him tilt back and fall on the seat. Before he could say or do anything, I moved to straddle him, lifting my dress in the process and setting my knees on each side of him.

He repeated my name, but I stole the rest with my lips, kissing him with intensity once more. I could hear the other people around us and perceive bits and pieces of their conversations, but I didn’t care. To hell if they heard. And because of that damn bracelet, they already knew I belonged to him, didn’t they?

My tongue was playfully licking the contours of his lush lips when my hands traveled south to the fastening of his pants between us. He groaned but didn’t fight me when I unbuckled his belt, and when I popped the button open, he gripped my ass hard.

“Mila, this is reckless…” he protested as I slid the zipper down.

My hand entered his underwear, and I firmly circled his hardening shaft. “You’re telling me people never fuck in here?”

I didn’t even need his silent confirmation. The alcoves, the drapes, the music, the dimmed lights… This place was basically designed for sex, and I doubted we’d even be the first one doing it tonight.

His jaw clenched, his eyes rolling back slightly as I massaged his erection, tightening my grip at his tip. “Promise you won’t discard me like this ever again,” I demanded, using my thumb to spread the droplets of precum that seeped from his tip.

“ Kjære , I didn’t mean to—“

“No. No excuses,” I cut him. My hand journeyed lower, and I grabbed his balls, squeezing them tightly enough to make him flinch. “If you want me in your life, you have to do better. I’m not some relic you can play with and discard at will. If you’re with me, be with me.”

I felt very spicy at that moment, very resilient and strong—maybe too much. But he had to understand that I wasn’t going to let him fail over and over. Not after everything he’d already put me through.

“I promise,” he professed, wrapping a soft hand around my wrist to silently encourage me to let go. His thumb caressed the tender skin, his eyes meeting mine with fervor, and I loosened my grip. “I promise I won’t take you for granted again, skatt . You’re a fucking goddess, and I won’t forget it anytime soon.”

“Fuck yeah, I am,” I muttered before retaking his lips.

【17】Almost There

My hand in Ulrik’s slacks became amorous again, grazing and teasing his length, and while I focused on him, he hastily lowered his pants to free himself. He sent me an amused glance when I fished out a condom from the side of my bra.

“You came prepared,” he humored.

“With you? Always.”

“You’re the wild card, love. Not me.”

I grinned, taking this as a compliment, and tore the silver packet open with my teeth. He moaned when I rolled it down his thick girth, his eyes watching me work. As soon as I was done, he pulled my dress up, exposing the narrow thong that covered my intimacy. I was the one tugging it to the side and aligning his tip to my entrance.

I was soaked—from the dancing earlier and the kissing—so I didn’t bother with foreplays beyond sliding the plump head over my clit a couple of times. His hands at my hips tightened as I slowly impaled myself on his length. Shit, even with how aroused I was, I struggled to take it all at once. An inch or so remained out of me when I lowered, so I rose and tried again.

“ Fy faen… “ he cursed, his head falling back on the couch’s rest.

“ Du kan ta det, “ I breathily replied. You can take it…

His low chuckle turned into a growl when I finally managed to fit him whole inside me. Maintaining the up-and-down momentum of my hips, I leaned forward to reclaim his lips while my hands tremblingly undid the buttons of his dark shirt. His own hands reached for my behind, which he lifted along with my moves to help with the fast cadence. We might have been isolated in this alcove, but this wasn’t a place for anything more than a quickie.

“Fuck, you feel good,” I moaned, spreading his shirt wide open to feast on the sight of him. I’d never get over his tattoos and the muscles beneath.

I fucked him with intensity, containing my moans in favor of heavy sighs. His eyes were dark with want, and they turned an even deeper shade of blue when he pulled the straps of my dress down to expose my bra. He tugged on the sheer black lace as well, and my breasts were now free, dangling with my ups and downs.

Ulrik’s hand rose to cup the left one, fondling it with earnest. “Ah, fuck,” I moaned when he pinched the pebbled tip of it.

Pleasure was building in my pit, my walls stretched by his imposing size every time I impaled myself on him. Below me, I could feel his belt buckle dig into my skin when I lowered, and the ambient sounds kept reminding me that we were only separated from the world by fabric.

As I looked down at him, still writhing and bouncing on his lap, I forgot about everything else. It didn’t matter if he had secrets. Everything about him was superior in every possible way, and such a thing had to come at a price. He couldn’t be that perfect, and if his mysterious ways were his flaw, then I’d accept them. I was getting so much in comparison.

He ripped his gaze away from mine and leaned forward to catch a swaying nipple in his mouth. A moan with his name on it flew past my lips as I tangled a hand in his lush hair, pulling him closer. He sucked, nibbled, and licked the taut tip, sending jolts and shivers of pure pleasure right to my core. It was all so overwhelming—his dick inside me, his deft tongue, his hand teasing the other nipple, the fact that we could be caught at any moment… So, when he slithered a hand between us to draw small circles over my clit, I shattered.

My orgasm took me by surprise, unexpectedly early and strong, and I barely managed to hold back a soft cry as it ran through me like lightning. Ulrik held me tightly as I quivered on top of him, my walls pulsing around him.

The climax left me weak in the legs, panting as the waves of bliss slowly receded. Everything since we’d left the apartment earlier had led to this, from the car ride to the dance. Even the time I’d spent alone had contributed to this explosion, as it had built up my frustration and need for him.

I was still trying to recuperate when I felt him stir under me. Before I knew it, I was lifted off as he switched us around, laying me down on the couch while never dislodging his shaft from within me—which was still very much hard.

“You didn’t come?” I whimpered.

He shook his head with a cocky little smirk, and I knew I was in for another shattering orgasm. Fuck…

“Don’t worry,” he said with amusement, “I’ll be fast.”

True to his words, he wasted no time thrusting into me. His shoves were deep and fast, ramming into me with fervor to seek his own release. Knowing him, though, he would make me come with him.

While I could moderate the sounds I made when I was on top, there was nothing I could do to hold back the moans he conjured in me now. With a leg hooked on the backrest to my right and the other wrapped high on his hip, I endured the wrecking pleasure he bestowed on me, ravaging my overly sensitive and satiated flesh with his perfect cock.

Just as two people passed by on the other side of the curtain, less than a foot away from my head, Ulrik gave me a particularly effective shove, hitting right where it felt so damn good. Something halfway between a scream and a moan escaped me before I could slap a hand over my mouth. The people stopped their conversation abruptly, betraying the fact that they’d heard me.

“Well, someone’s having fun in there,” one of them said in Norwegian after a couple of seconds, evident amusement seeping through his tone.

Ulrik remained unmoving as they walked away, and I glared at him the entire time. “You’re such a dickhead,” I muttered once they were far enough, failing at hiding my incredulous smile.

“What do you mean? Aren’t you having fun?”

“Just finish already—before we get caught and thrown out.”

“Aye, aye, Miss Connelly.”

He resumed his momentum, merciless and determined, and this time, as soon as my moans became uncontainable, he pressed a hand over my lips to muffle them. The only sounds that echoed in the alcoves were the slapping of flesh, the metal clinks of his belt, and the heavy breaths he released with every punch inside me. But those could be covered by the music.

“Almost there,” he grunted, looking so mighty and domineering on top of me that I nearly melted.

I was nearly there again, but I needed a little push. My hand tremblingly found its way between us, and I pressed two fingertips on my swollen clit. It was so sensitive that I shivered at the first touch. As I hastened my gestures, he quickened his pace, adamant to bring us both to the finish line at the same time.

At the first deep moan that rumbled in his throat, I slammed a hand over his mouth, mirroring his on mine. His hips rammed into me one last time, and I felt his cock throb inside me, my pulsing walls ripping the cum out of him. With our eyes locked by some unbreakable force, we climaxed together. This orgasm lasted longer and was somehow more profound than the previous one. I trembled and undulated underneath him, stuck against the sofa, never ripping my gaze from his. My hands between us kept rubbing my clit, dragging out the pleasure for as long as I could endure it.

Eventually, everything slowed down, leaving us both completely spent. My hand slipped away from his mouth, and he released mine. We moved in unison to kiss, and I welcomed his lips with hazy tenderness. He was still deeply planted into me, my legs wrapped around him to keep him close. We were both slightly sweaty now, panting, and I could barely believe we’d done this.

I could hear people out there, so close to us they had to have noticed some of it. But even now, as I basked in whatever hormones he’s unleashed in me, I couldn’t bring myself to care.

When he moved back, I admired the finer details of his stunning face for a few seconds. He observed me with matching devotion, eyes scanning my flushed face.

“I really am sorry, Mila,” he murmured before kissing my sweaty forehead. “My actions tonight do not reflect the unwavering adoration I have for you.”

“You adore me?” That was just me being needy because I already knew the answer to that.

“To no end, my love.”

The endearment sent a surge of emotions straight to my heart. He’d called me “love” countless times, but this… This was new and entirely different, wasn’t it?

I was still processing it when he retook possession of my lips, and we kissed slowly, leisurely, until someone outside laughed loudly. That reminded us that this wasn’t the place for lingering cuddles.

Ulrik pulled out of me, his latex-clad shaft glistening with my two orgasms. Before he got rid of the protection, he grabbed a couple of napkins from the low table and ran them between my legs to clean off the excess wetness gathered there. When he bent down to give my satiated intimacy a small peck right before setting my thong straight, I giggled and tried to close my legs.

While he got rid of the condom and the napkins, I handled my bra and dress, disliking that we had to cross the paths of so many people before we were in his car. One look at us, and they’d know we’d just fucked like wild beasts. He looked properly drained, with his slightly reddened face and glimmering eyes, and I had no doubt it was even more apparent on me. I sat there with my legs crossed as he did the buttons of his shirt and methodically slipped it into his slacks.

“Ready to go?” he asked once he was done, extending a hand to help me up. I nodded, took it, and rose from the couch on unsteady legs.

He gave me a long and poignant kiss once more, expressing with his action again how sorry he was for the way the evening had turned. Then he reached for the curtain and tugged it open. The closest people were in a nearby alcove, and they paid us no mind as we made our way out of the backroom. People having sex in there must have been even more common than I’d imagined because no one spared us even a look.

The buzzing activity of the VIP lounge brought me back to reality when we reentered it. The bouncer posted there gave us a side look, surely disliking that I’d been back there, but Ulrik ignored him. We walked side by side to the table we’d occupied earlier to get my bag, with Ulrik’s powerful arm holding me close. As we made our way to the woman handling the coat, a cold shiver ran down my spine.

Disconcerted, I turned around to seek what could have triggered it and detected the creepy man who’d bothered me during Ulrik’s absence. He was staring at us, his interest unrelenting even after I’d noticed him. I glared at him, pushing myself further into Ulrik’s embrace.

“What is it, elskling ?” he asked, noticing my discomfort.

“That man over there in the green tweed jacket…”

He sought the creep with hawk-like precision, and upon finding him, his face turned grave and somber. Clearly, he was familiar with the man, and he harbored nothing but loathing for him.

“What about him?” Ulrik asked, giving my hip an encouraging squeeze.

“Nothing, he just… He’s the guy who bothered me while you were away.”

His grip tightened, almost painfully so. If looks could kill, that man would have died right then and there. Because I didn’t want another scene, I laid a gentle hand over his solid torso. “Ulrik, it’s fine. Some big blond guy came to my rescue.” I looked around to see if that man was still there and spotted him near the glass wall. “Him,” I told Ulrik, pointing at the good samaritan. “Nothing happened. Just don’t leave me alone like this again, okay?”

“I promise I won’t.”

We resumed our walk to the coats, and the woman there went to fetch our things. Ulrik was still tense, still on the fence, so when he let out a low groan, I already knew what was coming next. “Wait here,” he ordered.

“Ulrik, no,” I protested, holding his arm. “Let’s go back to your place. I’m tired, and those shoes are killing me.” He hesitated, seething as he glared at the man. “Please, I really want to go.”

Ulrik looked down at me, and when he read the plea in my eyes, he gave in. “Alright, let’s get you out of those shoes.”

“The dress is a little uncomfortable, too.”

He chuckled, instantly catching my drift. “I’ll get you out of it too, then.”

“Perfect,” I approved, rising to my tip toes to kiss him.

Whoever that creep was, he’d ruined my evening enough as it was. I wouldn’t let him get anything else from us.

【18】Agnes

The following day, we were already leaving Oslo. Our stay there had been brief but intense, and I couldn’t wait to return to the quiet fjord up north. I understood why he preferred it to the city, and it made sense that he had made it his primary residence—especially with how much he traveled.

In our hurry to leave the club, we’d forgotten to leave our bracelets at the desk. For some reason, I hadn’t removed it, and the black band still adorned my wrist. I didn’t entirely hate its meaning, as I already considered myself entwined with him in a romantic way. We belonged to one another in a way, and the bracelet wasn’t off mark regarding that. What I had disliked was the sneaky way he’d gone at it.

Before we could head to the airport, though, Ulrik had one more stop planned. “I promise it won’t take long,” he said as we left the capital behind us.

“It’s alright, I don’t mind. I’m actually excited to meet another Westergaard.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint, but she’s a Sørensen.”

“Ah, it’s fine. You said she was your great-grandmother, right?” He nodded with a grave expression, eyes forward and jaw tight.

We remained silent for the rest of our picturesque journey uphill, meandering through the outskirts of Oslo. The city’s vibrancy transformed into a serene landscape of rolling hills and towering trees.

As we neared our destination, the surroundings blossomed into a vision of tranquility. The retirement home was of refined elegance, nestled amidst meticulously cultivated gardens that seemed to thrive despite November being so advanced. Leaves of various colors painted the landscape with nature’s brushstrokes, while stone pathways invited leisurely strolls.

We parked the car in the shade of an ancient oak tree, and as we stepped out, the gentle fragrance of nature wafted on the breeze, welcoming us to a realm of beauty and serenity.

As we walked onto the grounds, I noticed others who strolled through the gardens, elderly people accompanied or not by nurses in beige blouses, their presence a testament to the sense of community that thrived here.

The old but pristine building that housed the retirement home stood as an architectural masterpiece, its façade a tribute to bygone eras. Crafted from light stone with four stories, it rose majestically against the sky, each floor adorned with countless windows that provided glimpses into the lives within.

Gothic inspiration was evident in the intricate details that adorned the structure. Delicate carvings graced the edges of windows and doors, while spires reached for the heavens, a nod to a bygone era of architectural beauty. The grand main entrance beckoned us with its intricately crafted panels.

As we crossed it, the tasteful interior design embraced us with open arms. The palette of beige and white continued, creating an atmosphere of understated luxury. Polished marble floors reflected the soft glow of chandeliers above, while plush seating offered a place to pause and admire the beauty that surrounded us.

We walked up to the reception desk, where a staff member welcomed us with a warm smile, her demeanor a reflection of the professionalism that pervaded the establishment. “Good afternoon, Mr. Westergaard. Here to visit Mrs. Sørensen?”

“We are,” he said with a nod before resting a hand on my lower back.

“You’ve come at a great time. She has been herself a little more for the past few days.”

“Yes, I received the email.”

“I believe she’s in the sun room. The weather has been so good lately, so she has been enjoying a few moments there every morning. Nurse Nilsen will take you there,” she added politely as she gestured toward her colleague, posted by the reception.

Nurse Nilsen, a petite woman with a strong build, invited us to follow her, which we did. Following her guidance, Ulrik and I made our way down a corridor adorned with artwork that seemed to carry whispers of history.

“Is your great-grandmother not well?” I asked, compelled to by the receptionist’s words.

“She has dementia. It’s quite advanced. She’s never fully there anymore, so I’ve asked to be informed when she has good days.”

We arrived at the end of the corridor, and a glassed gallery revealed itself as we stepped across the threshold. Bathed in natural light, it was a space that bridged the boundary between indoors and outdoors. The room was embellished by an array of plants, their vibrant greenery, where potted flowers added splashes of color, their petals reaching for the sunlight that filtered through the glass walls and ceiling.

Rocking chairs were thoughtfully arranged throughout the room, inviting moments of leisure and contemplation of a view that stole the breath from my lungs. Through the expansive windows, the outback of Oslo stretched out like a canvas of natural beauty. Rolling hills led the eye to distant horizons where the sky met the earth in a breathtaking display.

Amidst this panorama, a figure sat in one of the rocking chairs, a woman whose age was etched into every line and crease of her features. She wore a light blue cardigan with a loose yellow dress, her curly white hair cut just above her shoulders. Mrs. Sørensen’s eyes were fixed on the scenery beyond, her gaze holding a quiet contemplation that seemed to transcend the present moment.

The nurse left us there with a nod and a smile, and Ulrik removed his hand from my back to approach his great-grandmother. I followed, remaining a few steps behind. As we drew closer, Mrs. Sørensen turned her gaze toward us, her eyes devoid of recognition as she observed Ulrik. Just as I thought she wouldn’t recognize him, a smile stretched her wrinkly lips, lighting her face with warmth.

“ Far ?“ she called out, nearly beaming with happiness.

My heart tore in my chest as I understood she wasn’t doing as good as the nurse said. How could she, when she’d just called him father ?

“It’s me,” he patiently said, kneeling by her side.

“Harald?”

“Ulrik.”

The name Harald was somewhat familiar, and when I tried to remember why, I recalled Mr. Hagen, the gallery owner, mentioning it. Harald was Ulrik’s great-grandfather.

The old woman frowned, puzzled, and then her attention traveled to me. “Who is this?”

Ulrik turned toward me and invited me to join them, extending a hand. I took it as I stepped closer and offered a polite nod to Mrs. Sørensen.

“Is she your fiancée?” she asked Ulrik, visibly still confused.

“No, not yet,” he replied with a smile.

“But Father, what about Mother?”

Ulrik sighed, releasing my hand to wrap it over hers on the armrest. Her skin was so thin and translucent that I could see the veins behind the darker spots scattered there.

“Your mother has been gone for a long time, remember?”

Mrs. Sørensen looked confused again, her eyes lost somewhere on the tiles below her feet. Then grief overtook her aged features, as if she hadn’t lost her mother what must have been decades ago. “Oh, right…” she whispered.

Her arms began to shake slightly, then the rest of her. “Agnes, are you cold?” Ulrik asked.

She nodded, gazing up, and I noticed the blue of her eyes, which was very similar to Ulrik’s. Her genes had passed down the generations all the way to him.

Ulrik turned to me with an apologetic smile. “Would you mind fetching a blanket, love?”

“Of course.”

I left them together and returned inside the building in search of something to warm her up. I came across the nurse who’d led us outside and asked for a blanket. I followed her as she retrieved one from a cupboard, and then she led me back to the sun room. This time, I remained on the threshold while she went to Ulrik and his great-grandmother.

It made me somehow emotional to watch him unfold it with caring gestures and lay it over her legs before tucking it to her sides.

Nurse Nilsen was back at my side, and she watched the scene with matching affection. “Mr. Westergaard is an absolute gem. We don’t have another great-grandson as devoted as he is.”

“He doesn’t have much family left, so I suppose he’s aware of how precious relatives are—however distant.”

“It’s commendable that he’s still so selfless after a life of tragedy, then.”

I could only agree with her assessment, reminded once more that Ulrik was unlike any other man I’d ever met. We observed from afar as the two of them exchanged a soft conversation, too low for us to hear the words they spoke.

“How old is she?” I asked the nurse.

“Between ninety-seven and ninety-nine. We’re not sure.”

“How so?”

“Her birth certificate was lost, and she isn’t on any birth registry—it happened sometimes with people born in very rural areas. All we have is Mr. Westergaard’s estimation since she doesn’t remember her birthday.”

I nodded, intrigued by the life this woman must have led. Nearly a hundred years of it. A century of adventures, seeing the world change, meeting new people… The fact that she still had someone to care for her was touching, and I could only hope to be so lucky myself.

“Would you like me to serve tea for the three of you?” the nurse offered.

I wasn’t sure if it was alright for me to intrude in their moment, but if Mrs. Sørensen was still cold, it could do no harm. I accepted her kind offer but decided to keep my distance to give them some privacy. By the time the nurse returned with a small cart filled with various pastries, a porcelain teapot, and three delicate cups that matched, Ulrik had pulled one of the chairs to sit before his great-grandmother.

He thanked the nurse with a polite nod and sought me with his blue gaze. With a gesture of his hand, he encouraged me to join them, but I hesitated for a second. It was only when he stood to fetch a second chair that I made my way to them.

“Agnes, this is my good friend, Mila,” Ulrik introduced me once I was with them again.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Sørensen.”

“You are a very beautiful woman.”

“Oh, uh… thank you. I’m sure you were a heartstopper in your days,” I said in return. And I meant it. Despite the decades that had drawn creases, spots, and wrinkles on her skin, her features conveyed what must have been a great beauty.

“I was quite the catch, yes,” she replied with unmasked pride.

“Couldn’t keep the boys away from her,” Ulrik added humorously. “She was a handful—from what I’ve heard.”

As we shared a cup of the excellent tea the nurse had brought and several succulent pastries, Agnes Sørensen entertained me with tales of her past. It seemed that Ulrik’s few minutes with her had brought her mind back, and the confused old woman we’d first seen upon arriving was gone. It was clear that he had already heard it all, but he listened with fondness nevertheless. Everything was going splendidly until her sharp gaze suddenly turned empty and confused right in the middle of a story about her first husband.

“Agnes?” Ulrik softly called, laying a gentle hand on her blanket-covered knee.

When she gazed at him, childlike hope illuminated her face. “ Far ?“

My heart squeezed in my chest at the realization that she was gone again. The pain in Ulrik’s eyes was unmistakable, and I reached for his hand to give it a supportive squeeze.

“Where am I?” Agnes wondered, panic slowly seeping into her mind.

“You’re in the sunroom at Eldreglans , remember?”

She looked around, perturbed, and I could sense her growing agitation. It was clear that she felt lost, and her distress was hard to bear. When she began to hyperventilate, I stood from my chair.

“I’ll get a nurse,” I offered, hastily making my way back inside.

I found one quickly and returned to the sunroom with her. Agnes’ panic had become even more potent in those moments, and Ulrik struggled to soothe her. As soon as the nurse squatted before the old woman, though, a sense of recognition struck her, and her breathing slowed.

While the nurse did her best to help his great-grandmother return to a calmer state, Ulrik came to stand beside me—a few steps away. I wrapped my arm around his and held him close. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“It’s alright. We had a good hour, which is more than we’ve had in months.”

The nurse helped Agnes up, probably to get her back inside, and I released him as they approached us. As they passed by, the old woman looked up at Ulrik, her eyes lighting up once more. “ Father , you came!“

Ulrik smiled in a soft and warm way and gave her a single nod. “I’m here, angel.”

She wrapped her unsteady arms around him and held him tightly. Ulrik returned the gesture, kissing her forehead with affection. The fact that he was entertaining her episode to bring her comfort brought tears to my eyes, my vision blurring.

“We have to leave now, Agnes. But I will be back soon, alright?”

She nodded, still holding on to him. They hugged for a few more seconds and then released each other. He gave her forehead one more kiss before the nurse escorted her out.

“You’re extremely sweet for visiting her like this. You know that?” I said, resting my temple over his shoulder as we watched her disappear back inside.

“It’s the least I can do for her.”

“It’s so much more than that,” I countered.

He looked down, so I looked up, and in his eyes, I read gratitude. “I’m happy I got to introduce you to her,” he said with a small smile.

“And I’m glad I met her.” When he lowered for a kiss, I granted it gladly.

It was such an odd thing how we got along so well sometimes until he triggered my fight-or-flight response one way or another. Thankfully, I was a stubborn woman, and as long as I was willing to fight for us, we might have a chance to create something extraordinary out of all that chemistry between us.

【19】One Day At a Time

The return to Trondheim wasn’t as amazing as our way down south. The weather was rather cloudy, so I couldn’t gorge on Norway’s beauty as much. It didn’t matter, though, because the splendor of the Westergaard estate was enough to satiate me.

Yuko was waiting for us with lunch on the stove when we arrived. After some warm reunions, we all ate her beef stew together before moving on with our day. Reginald ignored me for about an hour or so, apparently displeased to have been abandoned so carelessly. His resolve quickly wavered, though, and he accompanied me downstairs to the collection.

Although Ulrik and I hadn’t talked about it yet, my pending departure loomed over us like a silent threat. Soon, my stay here would reach three weeks, and while I worked hard enough to justify it, I’d have to return home eventually. Possibly before the week ended.

That reality lingered as I tried to dive back into work. Things would change even if Ulrik came to visit often. I wondered if our story, still so young, could survive the long distance. Between my demanding work hours and his, we’d struggle to make time for one another.

It seemed I wasn’t the only one with it in mind, though, because when I emerged out of the collection early in the evening, I found Ulrik busy in the kitchen and a beautiful table set for two people with candles that had yet to be lit and what must have been crystal glasses and fine china.

“Are we celebrating something?” I wondered as I approached him. He looked mighty appetizing, with his light blue button-up shirt and the anthracite apron tied around his waist.

“I thought I’d cook us something, and we’d have a nice evening together.”

“Anything in particular that you have in mind?”

“Well, I thought we could talk about what comes next. You’ll have to leave soon, and I… I’m not sure I earned my keep yet.”

I didn’t answer because I wasn’t sure either. Yes, I didn’t want things to end so quickly, and I hoped we’d keep this thing between us alive. But I wasn’t naive enough to think everything would be perfectly fine, even with the North Sea separating us. We were both physical beings, and the most functioning aspect of our relationship for now was the sex. I adored his brain, too, and his mind, but would it be enough in the long term?

The fact that I wasn’t rushing to reassure him made him doubt it even more, of course. His brows came together, his expression turning somber. Because I didn’t want him to worry about an uncertain future, I walked up to him and wrapped my arms around his muscular build.

“One day at a time, yeah? We can’t tell what the future holds for us, but what I know for sure is that I haven’t had my fill of you, Norseman. I want so much more.”

“The sentiment is reciprocated, love.”

“Then I think we’re good?” I said with a smile, rising up to kiss him.

He bent down but taunted me, his lips half an inch away from mine. “We are?”

“You’ll come visit me in London, right?”

“Of course, elskling . I’ll probably move there for the time being, with Yuko and everything.”

“Then we’re good,” I asserted, moving swiftly to lock lips before he teased me some more.

Before whatever was sizzling in the pan could burn, I ripped myself away from him. “Do I have time to shower before dinner?” I asked.

He looked around the kitchen, discontented. “The real question is: do I have time to join you in there?”

I chuckled and shook my head. “All of this smells too good to be ruined. You keep cookin’, Norseman, and I’ll go get ready for a romantic evening.”

He allowed one last peck before I left him alone in his sumptuous kitchen, surrounded by all those mouth-watering scents.

The shower felt great, especially since the long day had started in Oslo. Wrapped in a soft towel, I looked into the wardrobe to find something to wear. I didn’t have sexy outfits with me here, aside from the fine lingerie Gigi had stuck in my suitcase. I couldn’t have dinner in my underwear, though—otherwise, there would be no dinner at all—just fucking.

Still, I selected a pretty ensemble and slipped it on. It was black with red embroidered details, and the balconette bra barely covered my nipples. I was adjusting the garter on my thigh when my phone buzzed on my bed. As I picked it up, I noticed it was my father, which caused me to grimace. I’d been meaning to call him for ages, and the fact that he was the one doing it clearly proved it was long overdue. Dad tended to forget such things, usually caught up in time and too busy to think outside of work or his cozy little life.

“Hey, Dad,” I greeted him as I picked up.

“Hi, squirt. It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, I’m so sorry… I’ve been working like crazy lately.”

“I know the feeling, yes. You said you went to Norway?”

I’d texted him that I was traveling before leaving. “I’m still there, actually. Found a gold mine. I’ve never seen a collection as amazing as this one. And it’s only the Viking stuff. The rest of the collection is spread all around the world with countless artifacts.”

“Anything Egyptian?” he wondered, forever the Egyptologist.

“I suppose so, yeah.”

“That’s exciting. Who’s the collection owner?”

“Ulrik Westergaard. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of—”

“Oh wow. We have a Westergaard plate here at the Smithsonian.”

“Really? I’d never heard of this family before.”

“It’s a recurring name in the museum world. The Westergaards have been silent patrons for decades, maybe even centuries.”

My eyebrows drew up, impressed that he knew all that. Maybe I’d never paid enough attention to notice the name, but at seventy-two years old with over fifty years of work in the field, my father knew better.

While pacing the room, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror, which reminded me that I was in the middle of something. “Did you call for anything in particular?” I asked.

“Yes, hm… I wanted to know if you already got your tickets to come for Christmas.”

“Oh, not yet, no. Why?”

“Well, Marcia and I are…separating.”

Marcia, the woman he’d been dating for the past five years, was both brilliant and incredible, precisely the kind of person he needed in his life. I was supposed to join them in Washington for Christmas so we could celebrate together, along with her family.

“What?! Why?” I wondered, surprised and disappointed.

“You know me, I’m…complicated. She is a wonderful, wonderful woman, but she’s not…”

He trailed off, having the good sense of not finishing his sentence. That didn’t fail to anger me, nevertheless, because I knew exactly where this was going. “You have to move on, Dad,” I gravely asserted. “She abandoned us twenty-four years ago. You’ve been hung up over a woman you barely knew for almost a quarter century.”

He sighed, already bothered that we were having this discussion yet again. But it wasn’t my fault if he couldn’t get over the woman who’d birthed me and dipped. “You’ll understand one day,” he said like a promise. “One day, you’ll meet your person, the one made just for you out there, and that person will stick with you for the rest of your life. There’s no moving on.”

“I refuse to believe that, Dad. You knew her for barely two years. She was a complicated woman with some messed up agenda who abandoned you, as well as the child you made together. There’s nothing about her that could make up for that fact.”

“She was the most uniquely intriguing woman I’ve ever met, Jamila.”

“So now, you expect all other women to live up to this false idea you’ve had of her? To this fantasy you’ve built in your head of who she is?”

“I knew who she was. She was wildly cultivated, deeply interesting, and remarkably smart. Her beauty was beyond what words could ever describe, and her mind… Oh, her mind was the most thrilling of all. We could talk for hours about our matching passion. She knew so much about ancient Egypt and lost history. And she had this mysterious aura to her that I could never get enough of. You can think whatever you want, Mil, but she opened herself up to me like she didn’t with anyone else.”

“Right… Did she open up too, the night she disappeared with all her stuff, leaving nothing behind—aside from a pathetic ‘I’m sorry’ note?”

This time, when he sighed, it was evident frustration was taking over. “I wish you’d known her, squirt. I wish you could remember her, how she’d look at you with nothing but love, or how she cherished you like the eighth wonder.”

My eyes watered, emotions gaining me despite the fact that I was over this woman and what she’d done. “Don’t you think I wish the same?” I said into the phone, my voice slightly trembling. “Don’t you think I wish I knew what it’s like to have a mother? A maternal figure who stayed by my side as I grew up? Don’t you think I’d rather have fond memories, rather than crippling abandonment issues and some messed up idea of motherhood?”

“She never meant to hurt us.”

I couldn’t hold back the snicker that escaped me. “Really? What did she think would happen? That we’d move on with our merry lives? Did she not realize what abandoning her loved ones like she did was bound to fuck us up? If she did, maybe she wasn’t as clever as you thought.”

Another deep, defeated sigh. “I can’t do this again, Mil.”

“Me neither. I have to get ready for dinner.”

I could tell he was hurt by my lack of understanding, but I was so over this. That woman had hurt us both more than anyone else, and there was no way I’d pick her side like my father constantly did. No matter what he thought, that woman had many secrets, and she’d vanished into the night with every single one of them, leaving me otherwise orphaned and him brokenhearted.

“I’ll call you when I’m back in London,” I said, hating the way my throat was tight and aching.

“Alright. I think I might come to you for Christmas if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, sure,” I mumbled.

Marcia would be missed, but it was nothing surprising. This had been my father’s pattern all my life, so I wasn’t surprised by it. Not a single woman was measured up to his one true love, so they never lasted much longer than a couple of years before he pushed them away. I’d hoped that Marcia would break the pattern, and in a way, she did by lasting much longer than the others. A shame she couldn’t entirely cure my dad from his old habits.

“Talk to you soon, Dad,” I said before cutting the call.

As much as I loved him, his delusions regarding my mother would always upset me and create this gap between us. The subject was a particularly sensitive one, and the fact that I, the real victim of all this, had to be the voice of reason was exhausting.

Since my romantic mood was almost entirely gone, I slipped on the first thing I found and headed out. It wasn’t like I could do much better than the midnight blue wrap dress, anyway.

As I walked back to the living area, I couldn’t shake off the uneasiness this conversation had left in me. I tried to shake it off and ignored it, but in the back of my mind, I knew exactly why it had gotten to me so hard. It hit too close to home, didn’t it?

His description of my mother, her aura, the mystery of her, their passionate exchanges, her secrets… It was Ulrik. All of it. And even if I refused to believe it, I couldn’t help but wonder if I wasn’t recreating the same messed up generational pattern, setting myself up for failure as my father had.

Would I wake up one day to find Ulrik gone forever? With nothing left behind but our child and memories that would haunt me for the next quarter of a century? The mere thought of it made my heart race in my chest, and I halted my steps, setting a hand on the wall to lean on it slightly.

There was no way I would let anyone else abandon me with emotional scars that could never fully heal. If he did that to me, I would find him, no matter what, and rip his balls out to feed them to him—even if it took me a lifetime.

Was I being as naive as my father had been by thinking Ulrik and I could make this work? Was I repeating my father’s mistake by getting wrapped up in the wrong person’s aura?

Soft music rose from the main area, pulling me out of my thoughts, and I swallowed a couple of times to chase away the lump clogging my throat. Gathering myself, I apprehensively took the few more steps that separated me from the end of the corridor.

There, I found Ulrik with a dish towel thrown over his shoulder, methodically lighting up the candles on the beautiful table he’d set for us. There was something inherently joyful about him as if he was looking forward to this little dinner together. He even whistled along with the melody as he returned to the kitchen.

No, I was being paranoid. This man genuinely wanted me, without some terrible agenda, like my mother. He wouldn’t hurt me like she had my father. I was certain of it.

I took a deep breath to exorcize my worries, passed my hands on the front of my dress to arrange it, and took a step forward.

One day at a time.

【20】Gave It My Everything

II arrived in the kitchen just as Ulrik popped open a bottle of champagne. Before the flow of bubbles could make a mess, he aligned the neck with an awaiting flute and filled it. He noticed my approach and offered me an appreciative look as he took me in. I returned his flirtatious grin while I joined him. I took the glass he offered and brought it to my lips. Before he’d even filled the second glass, I had emptied mine.

His expression was full of concern as he gazed at the empty glass I brought forward for him to refill it. “Everything alright, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, just my dad.”

“Is he alright?”

“He’s a fool, is what he is.”

When I brought the refilled glass to my lips, he stopped me with a raised finger and said, “Ah! Not so fast, Miss Connelly. We’re toasting first.”

He took a few seconds to come up with it, his eyes planted into mine with earnestness. “To us,” he started, “to many more of these moments together. And to whatever awaits us in London.”

The sincerity in his voice touched me deeply, and emotion gained in me once more. “To us,” I echoed, clinking my glass with his. We each took a sip, never breaking the link of our gazes.

“So, tell me what’s going on with your dad,” he asked, setting his glass on the marble countertop.

“Nothing, he’s just…a stubborn old fool.”

Ulrik opened the oven and took a perfectly golden roast out of it, setting the sizzling dish on the awaiting mat. “How so?” he insisted.

“He never got over my mother, and it’s becoming aggravating. He knew her for twenty months, and she’s haunted him ever since.”

Pondering for a moment, Ulrik didn’t say a thing at first, taking out a butcher knife and a sharpener. With deft gestures that displayed a lot of practice, he dragged the blade against the tool quickly and efficiently.

“Some people will do that to you,” he settled on saying. “They leave a mark on you that can never go away.”

I pouted, displeased by his rational argument. It was like listening to my father all over again. “My dad’s being an idiot about it, though. All that for a woman who doesn’t deserve the time of day.”

“You can’t realize how much effect love can have on you until you experience it.”

“Ugh, stop. You sound exactly like him.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“If you wanna get to fuck me within an inch of my life again, yeah, it’s pretty bad.”

He chuckled, shaking his head with a broad grin. “Noted.”

The roast was on a cutting board now, and I watched as he cut perfectly even slices, his knife going through the tender meat as if it were butter.

“I just don’t get why he’d let her have so much importance in his life. She isn’t worth it.”

“Before we continue, and so I know what you want from me, do you need to vent, do you want advice, or do you seek comfort?” he methodically asked.

I considered the question and decided, “I think I just want to vent for now.”

He nodded once, getting another dish out of the oven—caramelized carrots. “Then vent away, kjære .”

“Did I tell you he looked for her for years? To no avail, of course. I think he still does, now and then. But she disappeared off the face of the earth as if she never existed.”

While Ulrik crafted our plates with gestures akin to great chefs, I told him the improbable story of my parents, how they’d lived together in secret and hidden the pregnancy from the world. Having a child out of wedlock was social suicide, so aside from a few legal documents, no one had known about me. So, to live their lives more freely, they’d decided to move to the US and get married. Before that could happen, though, she’d disappeared into the night, leaving him lost and confused.

By the time I was done recounting everything, we were almost finished with the succulent dish Ulrik had prepared. He listened, nodded, and participated when I needed him to. I was thankful for him being so considerate about my need to let it out, as confessing everything lifted a weight off my shoulders.

But I’d monopolized the conversation so far, and as good as it felt for my soul, I also looked forward to hearing more about him. “Anyhow, enough about my depressing upbringing. What are the plans for the upcoming weeks?”

“I’m still making arrangements, but I’ll be taking residence in my London townhouse. I’ll have to travel for the next few months, but then things will settle down. Before that, I need to ensure I’m leaving my business ventures in the hands of competent people.”

“You don’t have to give up everything for me, you know.”

“I know, love, but I want to. I’ll still work, but I don’t wish to be on the move so much. You’re more important, and I want to give us a fair chance.”

His devotion was commendable, and it reassured me to see he was so committed to this relationship already—nothing like my mother. It felt like a lot, though, and I worried that he might come to regret it.

“What if…we don’t end up working out?”

“Then so be it. At least I’ll know I gave it my everything.”

I nodded, my eyes lost somewhere on the empty plate before me. Since none of my previous relationships had been anywhere near serious, they’d demanded no real commitment on both sides. Now that I was facing this prospect, though, I was realizing that maybe I had a slight problem in that department.

“I’m not saying that I have commitment issues,” I carefully started, “because I think I’m ready to try this with you. But I have a hard time trusting people and letting them in,” I confessed. “For obvious reasons, I have abandonment issues, and my self-preservation mechanism is to keep people at bay. If I don’t get close to anyone, I can’t be hurt when they leave, right?”

“I’m not going to leave you, Mila.”

“You say that now, but—”

“No, I say it while being fully aware of the weight of my words. I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt this way about someone. But I know what this means, and I know that I will be entirely yours for as long as you want me.”

Still vaguely staring at my plate, I frowned. “I’m not sure I deserve all this, Ulrik.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

I looked up, compelled by something in his voice. “I’ve met a lot of people in my life, Mila,” he said with intensity, his eyes fixed on me with determination. “And rare are those who had on me the effect you do.”

My heart was beating hectically in my chest, slamming against my ribs in a way I couldn’t ignore. It would be so cruel of him to say all those things if he didn’t mean them, and Ulrik was far from being a vile person. Which meant this wasn’t a scheme to ruin me but the truth.

Overwhelmed, I got off my chair and made my way around the table to join him. He must have guessed my intentions because he backed up his chair just enough for me to come sit on his lap. I flattened my hands on each side of his gorgeous face and leaned in for a long, tender, and adamant kiss. His arms held me tightly, one around my waist and one by my hips.

When I pulled away, I lost myself in his mesmerizingly blue gaze. “To think all this started because Annie McCaine sent me an old sword,” I said with amusement and wonderment.

“Also, because I was being a dickhead and stole it away from you.”

I chuckled. “Yes, we can’t dismiss that fact.”

He showed no sign of wanting me off, and I didn’t make a move to, so I remained on his lap like this, an arm hooked around his neck while he had a hand resting on my thigh, right under the seam of my dress. I twisted to grab his glass of red wine and brought it up to take a sip from it. He picked it away from me, pensive.

“By the way, have you started your selection process?” he wondered, bringing the wine to his lush mouth.

“I have, yes. I created a shared spreadsheet with you, where I cataloged everything you have and marked the ones I’m interested in.”

“Ah, yes, I received the email and checked it out. I didn’t realize some of them were selected. You’ve done some amazing work in such a short time.”

His approval made my chest swell with pride. “And that’s only a rundown of it. All the pieces have a full sheet with photographs of details, a quick assessment, and an analysis of the material, as well as an estimate of their era.”

“With all that thorough work you’ve been doing, I feel like I should pay you.”

I laughed, amused by his take. “The museum pays me for my research, and this stay has definitely been enlightening.”

“Dare I venture in more than one way?”

I was still grinning when I claimed his lips once more. “Definitely,” I murmured against them.

This time, the kiss got a little out of hand, and while I maneuvered to straddle him, Ulrik got rid of the glass and returned it to the table behind him. Our tongues grazed in a lascivious way, following a sensual dance we were growing more and more familiar with. I was holding onto his shoulders, my intimacy pressed against his hardened crotch, and his hands were kneading the softness of my behind, greedily taking everything he could.

“It’s like I can never get enough of you,” he grunted in our kiss right before he deepened his exploration of the confines of my mouth, his tongue bold and daring.

I could only sympathize with this as I ravished him and yet wished I could get more. I sensed his hand on the side of my waist, tugging at the knot that held my dress closed. I didn’t assist him, trusting he’d figure it out, and began grinding on him instead, anticipating with eagerness what would come.

Because I had been so focused on my studies, I had never given a real shot to this relationship thing. All my partners had been what one might call flings. I had never been with anyone for more than a couple of months because getting wrapped up in a love story would have come in the way of my career. But I couldn’t remember ever experiencing such raw and untameable desire with any of those men.

Ever since discovering the pleasures of the flesh at sixteen, thanks to a boyfriend who miraculously knew what he was doing, I had enjoyed sex. There was something to it that appealed to my nature, and I had proven quite liberal with my body, sharing it on whims—although always protected.

But this… Sex with Ulrik was a revelation, even beyond the pure need I had for him. I’d never felt this connected to anyone, never considered sex to be a communion of the souls like it happened between us. Until now, sex had been a physical act that brought pleasure—when done right—as well as a peak of hormones. Now, though, I craved so much more than something as ordinary as pleasure. I craved the intimacy, the connection, the sense of belonging…

Maybe it was why I couldn’t get enough of him. Why I was willing to look past his reddish flags and stay by his side. I’d gotten a taste of perfection, and there was no going back.

The mere thought of returning to those mediocre experiences and seeking pleasure with other men revolted me. What a downgrade it would be, what a terrible loss… No one could ever be as meaningful as he was. No one could ever trigger those electric jolts with just a touch.

Which was precisely what happened when he finally loosened the knot and spread the front of my dress open, revealing the fine lingerie. But he couldn’t see it yet because I was monopolizing his attention with our kiss.

His hands traveled from my knees to my upper thigh, grazing the tights, the garters, and then my skin. Whatever he felt there compelled him to rip himself from my lips and take me in.

His darkened irises scanned me with intensity, lust plastered all over his expression with his hooded eyes, parted lips, and tense features.

“I want you spread under me,” he said with a rumbly voice, altered by desire. “I want to take you, again and again, and admire your beautiful face as it contorts with pleasure. I want to feel you clench around me as I make you orgasm on a loop until all you can remember is my name. I want to fucking ruin you, Mila, and I want you to ruin me in return until there’s nothing left but flesh, bones, and two hearts that beat in unison.”

Although his crude declaration triggered some primal part of my brain that made me want to fuck him right there and then, the sincerity of it brought me intense delight. Once more, I was reminded that this wasn’t just a fling. Far from it.

Bending closer to him, nearly kissing him but not quite, I planted my gaze into his.

“Then what are you waiting for, Norseman?” I challenged.

Before I even finished, he stood from his chair with me in his arms, his long strides carrying me in the direction of the bedrooms.

【21】Feel the Same

Somehow, this still didn’t feel real. Even as I held Mila in my arms, her slender legs wrapped around my hips as I carried her to my bedroom, I questioned reality.

The fact that I hadn’t ruined everything back in Oslo was a true blessing. Taking her to the Bifröst had been a mistake. Of course, she’d had questions. This woman was too curious for her own good. And the fact that Fyr had held me for longer than I intended didn’t help.

But there she was, the beautiful Miss Connelly, plastered against me and ravishing me with eager kisses. And I almost ruined it a shit load of times, didn’t I?

“Is it normal that I want you so much all the time?” she moans in our kiss.

Seeing this as a perfect opportunity for a break, I plastered her against the wall of the hallway and pressed my hips into her crotch. “I don’t know. I can’t remember being this obsessed with anyone before.”

She let out a soft cry when I thrust into her, and just like that, I knew I’d find her drenched once I would remove her clothes. Maybe it was insane that we desired each other this much. It might not be normal, but it felt so fucking right. With time, we would get accustomed to one another and not as prone to consummate all this lust. But today wasn’t that day, and something told me it would take a few months for us to reach satiation.

Too busy devouring her, I barely noticed that she was writhing against me, grinding her aching count onto my erection. Fuck, no, this wasn’t normal. This went beyond anything I knew.

Mila was uncharted waters, a new experience. And it was the most thrilling thing I’d encountered in a while.

Because we had to get on with the fucking, I pulled her away from the wall and continued our journey to my room. She was clinging to me with such fervor that when I lowered to settle her on the massive bed, she stayed right against me, ready to be sandwiched between me and the mattress.

Clothes were peeled from one another, eager hands pushing and tugging until there was nothing left but expanses of skin. I caressed her shapes, worshipping every curve and dip, my senses feasting on all of her. Her smoothness, her taste, her scent, her moans…

“I want you inside me,” she whimpered, arching under me to slide her wet cunt against my aching cock.

“Always so greedy…”

“You’re one to talk.”

When I lowered to kiss the delicate slope of her neck, she tightened the circle of her legs around my waist. “No, I want you now. I’m wet enough.”

“I can feel that. Let me just make sure…”

Just because teasing her was my favorite pastime, I slowly lowered my hand between us, observing how the tautness of her stomach shivered under the delicate grazes of my fingertips. Her responsiveness would forever drive me crazy. The curls of her mound tickled my fingers and palm as I inspected her wet folds. She was soaked, beyond ready for me.

Her back arched when I circled her swollen clit, and when I dipped two fingers inside her, she moaned my name. “Please… I need you.”

I would never get tired of this woman begging.

“And I need you.”

Fighting against the urge to go fast, I pulled out of her warmth and brought my fingers to my lips, sampling her with our eyes locked. Then, I reached for a condom in the nightstand. Her trembling hands wame to assist me once it was ripped open, and I gritted my teeth as she hurriedly slid it down my hardened girth. How did she feel so damn good?

Using her hold on me, she aligned us together, and I didn’t wait before slowly pushing inside her tight slit.

“Ah, fuck,” she moaned halfway in.

“You love that, don’t you? You love it when I stretch you until you’re full of me…”

“Yes…” The heels of her feet dug into my lower back as she pressed for more, raising her hips below me like the greedy woman she was.

“And I love being inside you. It feels like home, like I’ve been waiting for you all this time.”

“Then take me, Ulrik. Take me now .” Something in her voice, the desperation and the need, got the best of me, and I complied with a firm thrust. “Aah, yes,” she mewled.

As I leaned on an elbow, I sent my free hand down to her side, followed the curve of her hip and thigh, and grabbed her behind the knee to lift her leg higher, opening her more. The next thrust I gave her was deeper, reaching all the way to the end of her.

Although she wanted more, I kept things slow and tender despite the adamant intention in my shoves. We’d been a little rough lately, struggling to balance out the intensity of our emotions and needs. But I wanted her to know just how deeply I felt for her. How much she meant to me.

Everything was a blur of passion, limbs, and moans. I lost myself in her, into her warmth, her depth, her tightness… Her arms and legs embraced me, keeping me whole when my entire person was imploding from within. Emotions I had refused to ever experience again were wrecking, their uncanny intensity reminding me of why exactly I’d sworn off love and relationships.

When someone took up so much place in one’s heart, their departure left nothing but a gaping wound, a torn hole that never fully healed.

And those feelings Mila triggered, their magnitude, were almost unparalleled. I’d married the last woman who had made me feel that way. And then I had mourned her, filling the hollowness she’d left behind one day at a time.

Was I truly ready to start over? To do all of this again?

“Ulrik,” Mila moaned below me, her nails clawing at my back. “You feel so good…”

Maintaining the sinuous rolls of my hips, I looked down at her, admiring her flushed face, parted lips, and shimmering eyes. In their depth, in the things I read there, I found my answer.

Yes, I was ready. She was worth it, and however long we would have together would make up for the ache. It would never be enough, but it was worth the risk.

“You have no idea the things you make me feel, kjære ,” I said with intensity. “I wish I could rip my heart out of my chest to show you how hard it beats for you.”

She spasmed around me, visibly affected by my words. Her face was a picture of abandonment, her lips parted with moans, her brows twisted with pleasure, her eyes glassy with lust. This woman had always been remarkably beautiful in my eyes, but as she was in that instant, tucked under me with her cunt swallowing me over and over and her tits bouncing with every shove, she was magnificent.

“Aah, don’t stop,” she begged when I slowed down, grinding the base of my on her aching clit..

“Do you know, Mila? Do you know just how much I need you? Do you realize how obsessed you make me?” She didn’t reply, too busy arching and writhing to get more. Her chocolate eyes were closed, focused on her incoming climax. “Look at me,” I softly demanded. “Look at me, my love.”

This time, she complied, her gaze instantly landing on mine. “Do you know?” I insisted, angling myself to make her feel so good she shivered below me.

Her abandoned expression slowly changed into something else, almost as if she could guess at the depth of my feelings for her. She stared into me, torn between the pleasure that kept growing between her legs with my pace and the emotions wrecking her.

What I would give to be able to read her mind, to know just one of the many thoughts wreaking havoc in there.

“I know,” she ended up answering. “I know. And I feel the same.”

Something throbbed in my chest at her admission, and our lips joined again with matching yearning. For the following moments, there was nothing but our hips slapping together and our moans, avid hands pulling each other in.

Then she tilted, moaning my name as she ripped herself away from our kiss to press her face in the crook of my neck. When my balls tightened with the need to follow her in ecstasy, I didn’t fight it. It wasn’t about the performance and showing her all I was capable of. This was about us, about the connection, about being together in this moment of unaltered bliss.

I wished I could have taken her without a condom. There was nothing that I wanted more than to fill her with my pleasure and watch it slowly pour out of her. But I wasn’t taking such risks, not even for her.

We basked in that state of utter contentment for several minutes, with my satiated nested above hers while I held myself on my elbows to allow her to breathe. Her hands soothe the firmness of my back while her lips press small pecks on the parts of my throat and shoulders that she can access.

If only everything could be as simple as the sex between us, we’d be on for a smooth-sailing relationship.

With an ultimate grunt, I pushed myself off her, slipping out of her warmth, and rolled to the side. The way she cuddled up against me as if the distance was too much already, filled me with contentment.

There was silence for a moment, quiet enough for me to hear the beats of my heart. Then she asked, “When will you come to London?”

“I’ll have some affairs to handle in the next few months, so I might travel a lot. And I haven’t spoken to Yuko yet about relocating to England. I know she won’t mind a change of scenery, though, so that’s not an issue.”

“Ah, I didn’t realize she’d be coming along. That’s amazing.”

“Yeah, I don’t like leaving her alone for too long. But to answer your question, I think I can make a first trip to London in a couple of weeks. For a few days.”

“I’d love that,” she approved, wriggling closer to me.

Even then, a fortnight would be too long a wait to see her again. I dreaded the day she’d leave this estate, but it was inevitable.

【22】Laundry Day

The glow of the morning filled the room when I woke up. Because my stay in the Westergaard Estate would soon come to an end, I should have gotten out of bed as soon as I realized that. But the warm and familiar body against mine was too comfortable to rip myself away from it.

So, instead, I lingered in bed for a moment, silently admiring Ulrik sleeping, my head lying over his broad shoulder as I did. He looked so serene like this, but it was as though the sense of contentment we brought to one another followed him in his dreams. The ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, surely a remnant of our night.

He’d been tender and sweet at times but also demanding and rough when I needed it. At some point, things had turned so deep and powerful that I could only describe it as love-making. And it had been right then and there that I’d realized.

I was in love with Ulrik. Desperately.

It wasn’t just the stellar sex, although that sure helped. No, it was his attitude toward me, how much he cared, how he worshipped me… I loved how cultivated he was and how clever our conversations were, as well as his generosity. I loved that he was willing to share his collection with me, to open the doors to all these ancient relics despite having no obligations toward me. I loved to hear his laugh, to smell the scent of his skin, to catch him secretly staring at me from afar…

My resolve to take things slow had been crushed by everything that he was, unable to resist such a man.

And who would blame me for it? I’d resisted for as long as I could, but his merciless courtship left me no other choice but to fall head over heels for him. My dashing Norseman.

About twenty minutes after I had woken up, he began to stir under me, his consciousness slowly resurfacing. Before he even opened his eyes, his arm tugged me closer to him, plastering my front further into his side.

“Good morning,” I murmured in his ear. An indiscernible mumble answered me, and when I gently nipped at the lobe, he groaned. “Did you sleep well?”

“Always when you’re in my bed.”

My heart fluttered for the words as much as for the roughness of his sleepy voice. He still hadn’t opened his eyes when my lips trailed a path of kisses down his throat.

“Mila, you’re insatiable,” he groaned when I pushed the covers away to give his flat nipple a lick.

“I can’t let you start the day like this now, can I?” My hand cupped the firm shape of his erection over the duvet. “I would be a terrible girlfriend if I did.”

Despite the foggy state of his awakening mind, he instantly processed my words, and his eyes whipped open. “Girlfriend?” he echoed, clearly stunned.

“Isn’t that what I am?” I amusedly said, still kissing my way down his tattooed torso, following the outline of his defined abs.

I was forced to stop when he reached down to tangle his hands in my messy bed hair and made me look up. “It is?” he insisted.

The hope and emotions I could read in his eyes nearly undid me. It was impossible to deny just how much he wanted our story to evolve into something beyond the sex.

“Only if you’re alright being my boyfriend,” I answered, disliking the childishness of it. There was nothing boyish about Ulrik, so boyfriend was the wrong word for it. But it still felt so right.

It seemed he was at a loss for words because instead of saying whatever was running through his mind, he pulled me in for a deep and poignant kiss. In the adamant grazes of his tongue on mine, I found my answer. He was beyond relieved to hear my acceptance of him, of us.

Although it took considerable mental strength, I ripped myself away from his intense lips. I had a mission, and I wasn’t letting yet another thing come in the way of it. This time, I didn’t linger and took my time. No, I shoved the covers away with an adamant gesture and, after an appreciative glimpse at his hard length, lowered my mouth to it.

“Fuck, kjære ,” he groaned as soon as my lips wrapped around him.

I smiled around his head, flicking my tongue on the underside of him. Aside from a few moments here and there, I had never given him a proper blowjob. It seemed he didn’t like it when I tested his stamina, and he usually stopped me before I could get too far. This time, though, I was intent on making him come down my throat.

Motivated by a strong will to please him and show what I was too scared to say, I took more of him, opening my jaw wide to make room for his imposing girth. When his hands came back to my hair, I expected him to push me lower, to make me take even more, but instead, he gathered my hair together and stared down. I looked up, meeting his ravenous eyes as I had his length sliding in and out of my mouth.

With hollowed cheeks, I sucked his perfect shaft, hungry for his cum. Something in the vulnerability I could read in him told me he wouldn’t last very long. Men rarely did right after waking up, but Ulrik’s abilities had always surprised me, so I wouldn’t count on it, just in case.

“You’re so fucking good at this,” he whimpered in his native language. So good at it that I made him lose his English…

Seeing this as an encouragement, I sucked harder, took him far down the back of my throat, and looked up again. In the heated gaze we exchanged, I showed him just how much I wanted this, how much I enjoyed doing this for him. He’d gone down on me too many times to count, so it was about time I paid him back somehow.

With a confident hand, I cupped the sack underneath his throbbing length, earning me a sound halfway between a groan and a moan. His fist tightened around my hair, tugging at the scalp enough to cause some pain. That sent an electric jolt down my spine all the way to my intimacy, which I could tell was coated with my desire for him. But this moment wasn’t meant for me. No, all of it was for this incredible man.

“Mila, you should stop now, or I’ll—”

Just so there was no confusion about my intentions, I gave him a loaded glance and doubled down. This was exactly what I wanted. Him to come in my mouth.

“Fuck,” he grunted, ripping his eyes away from mine to let his head fall back.

Ten seconds later, I felt the first pulse of his climax in the palm of my hand circling him. Then, the big vein under my tongue throbbed, and a first spurt of his pleasure jutted on the back of my throat. His balls tightened in my fondling hand, contracting with every rope of cum that I swallowed. He panted above me, moaning my name as he came while his hand kept me down on his pulsing shaft, wholly absorbed by his orgasm.

Slowly, the pleasure receded, and his hold on my hair loosened, his ragged breath the only sound filling the room. With a tight grip, I lifted the ring of my fingers along him, squeezing out the last of his salty pleasure onto my tongue.

“Jesus fucking Christ, woman,” he whimpered when I released up, licking him from base to head one last time.

“You know my appreciation for breakfast in bed,” I humored as I made my way back up, kissing and nibbling.

“I do. Give me a minute to regain my senses, and then it’s my turn.”

“You’ve had your turn plenty of times.”

I reached his face and gave him a long and tender kiss, sharing his taste for a few seconds. When his hands came to my sides to pull me in, I pushed away with a laugh.

“No, there will be plenty of time for that when you join me in London.”

Before he could prevent my escape, I jolted out of the bed with a giggle.

“Mile, get that pretty ass of yours back here.”

I snatched his discarded shirt from the floor and looked back with a playful smirk. “See you later for some afternoon delight,” I said with a wink.

Although his naked body was beyond tempting, I didn’t have time for more sex at the moment. Like I’d said, London would offer plenty of those lascivious moments in bed. My time with the collection, though, was down to mere days now.

I was still grinning by the time I reached my bedroom. The first thing I did was pick up the phone I’d left on the bed to send a text to Gigi.

Are you up?

Then, I hopped in the shower for a thorough cleaning.

Gigi’s answer came as I was brushing my teeth.

Yep! Everything alright?

With the toothbrush in my mouth, I tried to contain my smile as I answered.

Gi, I’m down bad.

Go on, you fucking tease

, she answers after several seconds have passed.

I think I’ve fallen for him.

Next thing I knew, the phone was vibrating from a call. I spat out the toothpaste in the sink and picked up.

“Do you think you have fallen for him, or did you fall for him?” was the first thing she asked.

I winced, feeling silly for it. “I did.”

“Oh my God, Mimi! This is amazing!”

“No, it’s not. Everything is going so fast, Gi. We’re still supposed to be in this trial period, and now I’m…” Because I didn’t even know what to say, I allowed the words to trail off without an ending.

“It could always be worse, you know? Ulrik is rich, handsome, smart, and completely obsessed with you. Also, you have a passion in common, which is a great thing to have.”

“I know,” I whine. “He’s amazing and everything…”

“Did you tell him?”

“No! God, no. But I kinda officialized us just now.”

“You did?!”

“Yes, right before giving him a blowjob.”

She laughed openly on the other side of the line. “Well, that’s one way to seal it.”

I sighed, giving up on the teeth brushing. “I’ll be coming back soon, by the way. I can’t stay here for much longer.”

“Why?”

“I’ve been away from work too long. Mullins will end up firing me.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear it. The cats need their mom. and I make for a poor substitute.” After a few seconds, she asked, “How will you and Ulrik…manage the long distance?”

“He plans on coming to London soon. He’ll try to relocate there as soon as he can.”

“Ah, that’s adorable of him. I swear, he sounds perfect. I get that you’re scared, but again, it could be way worse.”

It could. It really could…

Ulrik was amazing in so many ways, and I should have considered myself lucky to be worthy of his interest. But there was something to him that I couldn’t quite discern—a secrecy that surrounded his life and that left me hesitant. Like what happened at the club in Oslo. Or that locked room downstairs.

That damn door had been out of my mind for a while since I now worked upstairs in the glass room and didn’t stare at it all day. But my guts told me there was something in there that I ought to see. Why would he hide a whole room away from me otherwise? What kind of secrets must be locked away in there, protected from prying eyes?

Every time I’d ask him to show me, he had refused under vague pretenses. Which made me wonder, now that we were something more official if he would be more forthcoming and unlock the door for me. But what if I asked, and he still refused? What was I supposed to do in that case? It wasn’t that I demanded total transparency from him, but I wasn’t comfortable with him keeping away something as big as whatever must be in that room.

Gigi was still on the phone, talking about the new menu she was coming up with for the restaurant, but I was now distracted by those thoughts, which she noticed.

“Alright, we’ll talk about all that once you’re back,” she decided instead.

“Sorry, Gi. My mind is all over the place right now.”

“Understandably. I need to go, anyways. Have to stop by the farmer’s market for fresh herbs for the restaurant. Tell me when you know when you’ll be back.”

“Of course. Say hi to the cats for me.”

“Mum says hi!” she shouts into the apartment, making me laugh.

“Love you, Gigi. Talk soon.” We hung up at the same time, and I quickly finished getting ready.

By the time I arrived in the kitchen, Ulrik was already there wearing one of his elegant business suits. Yuko was there as well, flipping a couple of pancakes in a pan.

“Hello, sleepy head,” she greeted me.

“Hi, Yuko. Were you waiting for us?”

“No, I came because today laundry day. But I see you did not eat, so I prepare breakfast.”

“I told you we would handle the breakfast from now on,” Ulrik reminded her.

“I no mind. Miss Mila, if you have laundry, bring to me before I go to the room. I clean for you.”

I considered refusing so as to not be an inconvenience, but I didn’t have much, so I considered it acceptable. “Of course, thank you.”

It was a little awkward to have her around now that Ulrik and I were intimate. But I would get used to this relationship being out in the open—not only with her but also around other people.

As soon as breakfast was over, Ulrik went to fetch his coat and car keys. “I have some affairs to handle in the city,” he explained as he came back. “It shouldn’t take too long, but I’ll let you two know if I’ll be back for lunch.”

“Alright. It below zero this morning, so careful with ice,” Yuko pointed out.

“Yeah, we wouldn’t want to lose another car to the treacherous roads,” he answered with humor.

“You more than the car,” I interjected. He seemed touched that I cared, even if it was so normal, and wrapped an arm around my waist to give me a tender peck on the lips. It was awkward to do this in front of Yuko, but I didn’t let it show. “Have a safe drive,” I offered.

“I will. Anything either of you need while I’m in Trondheim?”

“Oh, food for Reggie,” Yuko said.

He pinched his lips in discontent but didn’t object. “Send me the brand and type you want, then.”

After he’d disappeared in the elevator, I went to fetch the few clothes I needed cleaned. Yuko was done wiping the counters when I joined her.

“There,” I said with a grateful smile as I handed her the folded pile. “Thank you again.”

“My pleasure, Miss Mila.”

While she headed off to the elevator to get downstairs and start the laundry, I inspected the kitchen to see if there was anything else to do. But Yuko was efficient, so not a thing was out of place.

Aside from her keychain on the high counter.

My eyes locked on it, on the dozen of keys gathered on it. One of them must be it, right? One of them must be the key that opens the locked door in the reserve. It would be so easy to pick them up, rush downstairs, and open that damned room to see what’s in it,

Ashamed to have had the thought, I anxiously scanned the room as if someone could have witnessed my momentary insanity.

But would it be insane, really? I was in a committed relationship with Ulrik, a man I had fallen for, and he was keeping some big secret away from me. Was I not allowed to know what it was? Was I not supposed to make an informed decision about our future together?

One peek. One peek at the inside of that room, and then I’d lock it again and return the keys to the counter.

If it was nothing, then I wouldn’t say a word of it and move on. But if it was something big, I would be glad to know. My future was at stake, maybe my safety, even. If we were to become serious, I had the right to know what big secret Ulrik refused to share with me.

【23】Locked for a Reason

My hands trembled as I tried to single out the most likely key. In the blink of an eye, I’d rushed from the kitchen upstairs to the door, and now I was on a mission to finally sort this out. Whatever was behind this door, this mystery that called to me was about to end.

The first key was a miss, not even fitting in, and the second one refused to turn. Their metallic sound, which seemed so loud in all that silence, made me wince with worry. I was breaking Ulrik’s trust, and it felt wrong. But he couldn’t demand trust so early in the relationship, could he? It was something that one earned over time, and his mysterious ways had done nothing to put my doubts at ease.

When the sixth key that I tried turned, I froze. This was it. This normal-looking brass key was my way to the truth. Dismissing the gut-wrenching guilt, I completed the turn, then a second one, until the bolt opened fully.

“Just a peek,” I whispered to myself. It couldn’t hurt, could it? And with Yuko busy and Ulrik gone, it was my best shot at it.

After one deep breath to gather my courage, I twisted the handle and opened the door. I almost expected it to be empty, like a trial, something meant to drive me mad and test my loyalty. But the dark room illuminated on its own, probably thanks to a sensor, and it was far from empty.

In fact, it was full to the brim with paintings, sculptures, cabinets, and what looked like folders. But nothing was displayed in a proper manner; it was more of a storage room, with paintings stacked together and sculptures gathered in a corner. My eyebrows twisted with confusion, and that was when I realized how naive I’d been. There was no way I could leave it at just a peek. I had to understand why those were off-limits.

So, as I should have foreseen, I entered the room. The first thing I approached was a marble bust, and  I immediately noticed the likeliness. In the perfectly executed features carved in stone, I recognized Ulrik, or at least someone who very much resembled him. I fought the urge to graze at the smooth and polished texture, impressed by the craftsmanship and finer details. Still perplexed, I headed toward a painting that was covered by a cloth. It was a portrait in a style that reminded me of Johannes Vermeer, with old clothes from the 17th century and a background that matched. And the face painted in oils there also reminded me of Ulrik in an uncanny way.

More and more confused, I unveiled more paintings, which all represented Ulrik, either alone or surrounded by others. His beloved features were hard to miss, even if there was sometimes a beard eating away half of his face, or a wig covering his blond hair.

“What the hell,” I mumbled to myself.

My first instinct was to think he hired artists to have his likeness drawn through time like this. Because as a lover of art, maybe he enjoyed the idea of being transformed into the medium himself, posing as one might have done back then and getting a replica of what an old painting might have been.

It was his wealth, after all, and I couldn’t judge him for what he did with it. It was still weird, though.

But my inspection of the paintings told me they were originals. During my studies, I’d learned how to recognize an original from a counterfeit or an imitation. And while it would take some chemical tests to confirm my suspicions, those looked like the real deal, given the crackings, the discoloration of the varnish layers, and the techniques.

From what I found, they went as far as the 13th century. The drawings from then weren’t as precise, and I might have never recognized Ulrik had I not known the pattern. But there he was, with his blond hair, blue eyes, and powerful build, dressed in a knight’s armor.

Wholly confused, I moved on to one of the cabinets, only to retrieve an old album from it. In there, I found old pictures in period outfits. And while the paintings left room for doubts, given that they were the artists’ interpretations, the pictures didn’t. There he was again, clean-shaved as I knew him, or with a beard, a mustache… Exactly like in the paintings.

Was this an ego thing? Did he seek out paintings and such of people who resembled him? Or maybe those were family members, a long line of men just as dashing as Ulrik who’d fathered sons who looked like them. But what were the odds of that? And why would he keep this room locked, like it was some dirty secret?

My mind couldn’t wrap itself around what was going on here, so when I found old Norwegian newspaper clippings in another album, I sought any kind of answer. Some had pictures along, and on them, an Ulrik-like person again, posing with randomly important people—including young Queen Elizabeth.

In one of the older papers, before they began featuring pictures, a name on one of the headlines caught my attention. Harald Sørensen . It was familiar because Agnes, Ulrik’s great-grandmother, had mentioned it, as well as the man from the artifact gallery. But the article predated them both by nearly a century. Was it a name that ran in the family? The article mentioned how his generous donation would allow the museum to build a whole new wing.

Maybe that was it. Those were his family line memorabilia. They had been passing Haakon’s sword for centuries, after all, so why not other things? But again, why would he hide it all so fiercely? He’d told me he would show me the content of this room once I was ready. Ready for what? To know that his ancestors bore a striking resemblance to him?

There was something more to this room and those things, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. It was such a weird thing to hide. Hell, it was weird that they all looked so much alike despite the many centuries separating them.

“You shouldn’t be in here.”

Ulrik’s voice startled me so much that I almost dropped the album I was holding. Once I processed what it meant, though, my heart dropped and hammered against my ribs. He’d caught me sneaking in there, red-handed.

Slowly, I spun around to face him. His expression was grave, his jaw ticking as it clenched it over and over again. Clearly, he didn’t like that I’d gone over his head with this, and I couldn’t blame him.

“You aren’t—you aren’t on your way to Trondheim?”

“The door is linked to the security system. I was passing the gates when I received a notification.”

Oh, crap. I should have foreseen it. My eyes darted to the corners of the ceilings, where I spotted two security cameras.

“This room was locked for a reason, Mila.”

“I had to know.”

“And I told you you would, in due time.”

“It’s unfair to expect blind trust from me and then have an entire room of things locked away like this.”

I tremblingly returned the album to its shelf and gestured at the contents of his secret room. “I was imagining the worst. But this…I’m not sure what it is, but at least it’s not a serial killer’s room,” I explained, ignoring the way my throat clenched.

His eyebrows came together for a fleeting second as if my words confused him, and his face turned harsh again. “You haven’t figured it out yet?” he asked. His voice was soft but also unyielding.

“Figured what out?”

“What all of this means.”

I had absolutely no idea which direction this was going to take, so I said nothing. With a deep sigh, Ulrik stepped further into the room and picked up one of the paintings I hadn’t looked at. This one was wrapped in a sheet, which he pulled away as he settled it against the others for me to see.

This one was academicism, first half of the 19th century, and depicted a man in the nude, laid back in a somewhat sensuous position in a neoclassical setting, with a cloth to cover the model’s modesty. I knew this body, just like I knew those blue eyes staring right back at me. But mostly, I knew those tattoos… I’d followed them with the tip of my tongue, painted them with my fingers, and admired them.

“Wh—What is this?” I asked, more and more confused.

The resemblance in all those pieces was becoming increasingly creepy, and I couldn’t figure out the greater picture. Maybe I didn’t want to because the implications went beyond my understanding. Beyond the laws of this world.

“I knew you weren’t ready yet,” he let out through his clenched jaw.

“Ready for what? Ulrik, you’re creeping me out.”

“Ready to accept who I am. What I am.”

My eyes flew from him to the sculptures and paintings surrounding us, then back to him. Over and over again.

No. No, he was messing with me. But the graveness of his expression, how serious he looked in that moment, pushed me to almost believe him. Those were coincidences at best, family members at most.

But what about those tattoos? Why did they match so well? I’d never seen a classical painting like this with a depiction of tattoos, so they might have been added more recently by a very talented artist. It might have been part of this whole ego thing, and Ulrik had gotten the painting altered. Hell, maybe all the paintings were altered to some extent to resemble him more.

“I don’t like this joke,” I decided to say. “I’m sorry that I came in here, I shouldn’t have, and I’m leaving now.”

I stepped toward the door, ready to pass by him and put all this behind us. But just as I was about to go through it, his solid arm came across the way, forbidding me to go. Some kind of awareness flickered in my mind, and my heart began pumping faster. This was a much bigger deal than I thought, and I wasn’t prepared to handle the consequences of my actions.

“I wish I could let you go this easily, Mila, but we have to discuss this. You’re a clever woman, so I think part of you already knows what all this means. And it will scratch and scratch the back of your mind until it becomes a rotten, spoiled reality. So, please, let us face this now.”

I forced myself to look at him, trying to discern what was happening within him. He looked composed despite the crease between his narrowed brows.

“You’re scaring me, now. What you’re trying to imply is insane, Ulrik, and your behavior is bordering on schizophrenia. If this is a joke, I don’t find it funny at all.”

“It’s not a joke. Which is why I need you to accept it.”

I tried to move his arm away, but he held strong, using more of his broad body to block the only exit.

“Alright then. Say it,” I dared him. I wouldn’t be the one voicing this ludicrous thing he was trying to convince me of. I wasn’t a naive fool.

“I’m not who I pretend to be,” he admitted, his tone heavy with conflict and guilt.

“Then who are you?”

“You know who I am.”

My mind instantly figured out who he meant, and I looked conflictingly at the paintings behind me. His obsession with the sword now felt like a much more sinister reality, like the workings of a deranged mind.

Part of me clung to the hope that all of this was just an elaborate joke, something designed to make me question reality altogether. But the dreadful feeling twisting my guts, the grim feeling tugging at my heart, told me it wasn’t. It was too much to be a prank at my expense.

“You’re not him, Ulrik. He is an ancestor of yours who died eleven centuries ago.”

Something hardened in his gaze when I met it, triggering a cold shiver up my spine. Fear was the next thing that took over me. I was stuck, not only in this room but in this house. He was much bigger than me, and our exchanges had taught me that my self-defense abilities would be useless against him.

“Ulrik, you’re…you’re scaring me,” I tremblingly admitted.

His eyes softened, something tender crossing his face, and he removed his arm. Instead, I took my hand in his. “Come. Let me show you something.”

Slight relief made my shoulders sink as he pulled me out of the oppressive room. I considered ripping my hand away, but the contact appeased me, which was absolutely mad given the circumstances. He led me upstairs, and I began hoping this joke was about to reach its punchline and we’d move on from this madness. Yuko was nowhere in sight as we reached the kitchen.

I stood there, entirely lost and confused, while he removed his jacket and rolled up one sleeve of his crisp light blue button-down. The tattoos that revealed themselves truly were the same as the painting below.

“Please, don’t freak out,” Ulrik demanded before taking out a large butcher knife from a drawer. My heart rate peaked again, even though he immediately turned it on himself.

With my eyes widened and my lips parted with a shocked gasp, I watched as he dragged the blade across his forearm, tearing the skin. I was as though paralyzed for several seconds, too shocked to do anything other than stare in horror.

Blood immediately poured out of the gaping wound he’d inflicted on himself so carelessly, more than I’d ever seen before. But he wasn’t doing anything about it, staring at the wound.

When the crimson flow began to drip down his fingers, some sense of urgency finally struck me. “Ulrik, what the hell?!” I shouted, reaching for the dishcloth by the sink.

Within a second, I was by his side and pressing the bunched-up fabric on the bleeding cut. “Are you completely insane?” I asked, fighting against the nausea spreading in my throat. Blood was not my thing, especially in such an amount.

“I had to, or you wouldn’t have believed me.”

“So you hurt yourself? Ulrik, what is wrong with you?”

Trying to think past the panic, I called out for Yuko, shouting her name through the vastness. But if she was still downstairs handling the laundry, it was useless.

When Ulrik tried to remove the cloth, I shook my head. “No, you need pressure, or you’ll bleed out.”

“I won’t.”

“You will.”

“Mila,” he said gravely, his adamant gaze commending my eyes. “I won’t bleed out.”

There was something in his confident expression that made me doubt. He’d just cut himself open, a good five-inch opening deep enough to slice through an artery, but he was almost serene about it, like his life wasn’t on the line.

So, possibly because I was slowly accepting what he’d been trying to say, I let go of the rag, which was soaked with blood. When he pulled it away, I refused to look down. I wasn’t ready to face it. How could I ever be?

“Look at it, kjære ,” he softly demanded. I shook my head. “I need you to look at it, Mila.”

He was almost desperate for me to comply, so I did. Slowly, my gaze lowered to his injured arm. Blood was smeared over it, but even then, I couldn’t deny what he wanted me to see. There was no wound there. Not anymore. All that was left of the deep cut he’d inflicted on himself was a line of clear skin through his tattoo, without even a scar to attest to what had just happened.

“It’s impossible,” I maintained, still staring at it. I was feeling dizzy, my head spinning.

“It is.” His non-blooded hand came up between us, and he forced my head up with an index under my chin.

I could tell how sorry he was, as if the lies he’d told me from the day we met were too much as if he knew just how wrong all of this was. Nothing made sense anymore, and even though I knew what he was about to say, even though he’d just proved his point with the knife, I still wasn’t ready to accept it. With the blood, the fright, the turmoil, and everything else, this was too much. My body and mind couldn’t withstand it.

The softness of his voice when he confessed wasn’t enough to ease the blow. “I’m Haakon,” he carefully said, “the immortal son of Odin.”

Before I even realized what was happening, the blue of his irises disappeared from my sight, swallowed by empty darkness.

【24】Gods Don’t Exist

There was an array of paintings—portraits that went through the centuries. But I couldn’t make out the faces on them, their traits indiscernible. As I got closer, though, familiar features began to appear on them, clearer with every step I took. Once I was close enough, I recognized the man represented in every single one of them, the man represented through the centuries.

Ulrik.

With a startle, I sat up on the bed at once, woken up by the shock. My mind was in such a state of confusion that it took a moment for me to return to reality. I was in Ulrik’s bed, but I couldn’t remember going to sleep, especially with my clothes on. The curtains were drawn, but I saw rays of light coming from their edges.

The secret room. I found a key to open it, and Ulrik had caught me snooping around. Haakon… He claimed to be Haakon, and he’d sliced his arm open to prove it. All of that felt like a fever dream, and I struggled to grasp what was real and what wasn’t.

“How are you feeling?” a low, terribly familiar voice asked.

My eyes darted to its source, and in the shadow of the poorly illuminated room, I noticed a silhouette seated on the big armchair a few feet away from the bed. I couldn’t hold back the instinct to recoil, pulling the covers higher on me as if it could protect me from him.

This man wasn’t who I thought he was. The person I’d fallen in love with over the past few weeks was nothing but an illusion, a lie. Because even if I still couldn’t accept that his claims were real, this whole thing was either a cruel joke at my expense or the most mind-blowing revelation of my life.

“How long was I out?” I tremblingly asked.

“A little under an hour. I’m sorry you had to find out this way, Mila,” he said, leaning forward so his elbows were on his knees. “I wanted to ease you into the truth, not this.”

“This can’t be the truth. You can’t be…immortal.”

“Why?”

My eyebrows came together. “What do you mean, why? Gods don’t exist.”

“Most of them do, actually. You’ve met a few of them, even.”

“What?”

“The club we went to in Oslo. You met Tyr.”

My eyes widened, and then I dubiously asked, “The god of war and bloodshed? The one who lost his hand to Fenrir?”

But as I said those words, I was reminded that the man had indeed worn a prosthetic hand, something I hadn’t linked to the name before now.

“That Tyr, yes. And the man who came and sat with you while I was gone, the one who bothered you… It was Loki.”

“Loki, the trickster god?”

He nodded, and despite the darkness, I could tell he was dead serious about all that. “And the man who came to your aid was Thor, my half-brother.”

My jaw dropped, but I snapped it closed as bile gathered in the back of my throat. I was feeling dizzy again, my brain incapable of computing all of this. Everything in me wanted to reject his story and remain anchored in reality. But the malicious aura of the man who’d bothered me was still fresh in my mind. And I had noted the resemblance between the man who’d come to my aid and Ulrik. Everything added up, but even that wasn’t enough to convince me.

“We met your great-grandmother,” I reminded him, certain I’d found a mistake in his elaborate lie.

The way he sighed and passed a hand over his face wasn’t frustration but rather weariness. “Agnes isn’t my great-grandmother.”

“Who is she, then?”

I could sense his eyes on me, intense and piercing, as he said, “She’s my daughter.”

It hit me like a punch in the guts, leaving me breathless. During our visit, she’d called him father and even Harald . I’d put it on the count of dementia, but what if she’d been lucid? The nurses themselves had pointed out how she’d been herself that day. Ulrik’s devotion to her—his gentle care for the elderly woman—had a whole other meaning if this was true.

I was going to be sick. Being in this bed, where we’d shared so many tender moments, felt wrong. But my body was weak, my hands trembling as they clutched the duvet, and I wasn’t sure that I could stand and not topple over, crushed by the weight of his revelations.

“She was born in 1848,” Ulrik continued, unprompted. “My genes gave her a long and healthy life, but her mortality caught up.”

“Do you—do you have more children?”

He shook his head. “Agnes is my last living child. I told you before that I have watched everyone that I ever loved die, and watching your child die is the toughest of them all. That is why I go out of my way not to conceive anymore. But accidents can still happen, as it did with Agnes.”

Ulrik had always been adamant about using protection between us, never trying to negotiate sex without a condom. Not even once had he pushed for it, which was different from my other experiences with men—Even one-night stands had sometimes tried.

Why did all of this make so much sense? Why couldn’t I come up with a rational explanation that would dismantle all of this? But his mysterious ways, his reclusive life, his obsession with the swords… They would all make so much sense if this was true.

“What about Yuko? Is she also…immortal?”

He shook his head again. “I met her in Japan when she was fourteen. I saved her life, and she vowed to repay it by serving me for the rest of mine.” Ulrik let out a small, sardonic chuckle. “She didn’t realize what it meant back then. I took her as my ward since her family rejected her, and she’s been with me ever since as a valued friend.”

“What about your parents?”

“My mom truly died when I was a child. And with her gone, my father returned to Asgard and left me behind. I saw him again a decade later when he visited with two formidable gifts to make up for his negligence.”

“The swords,” I breathed out, completely stunned.

“Yes, two swords worthy of a god, forged in Nidavellir by the dwarves Brokkr and Sindri, and assisted by the sons Ivaldi.”

Oh, God… Of everything he’d told me, this was the most compelling argument. I could still remember how Henry hadn’t been able to scrape off the metal there. And its insane state of preservation, as well as the sapphires, had never made any sense before—unless there was something beyond our understanding that explained it—like the sword being forged by the same people who created Thor’s hammer, Mjölnir, and Odin’s spear, Gungnir.

My head spun so hard that I was thankful to be seated, as I might have fallen to the ground otherwise. There was so much to consider at once that questions piled and piled in my mind until I couldn’t sort out a single one of them. The implications of what he was stating went much beyond his betrayal and lies.

The old Norse gods existed, and so did the dwarves from the Edda. Were Valkyries real, too? What of the great wolf Fenrir and the Yggdrasil? Were there eight more worlds out there with elves and giants?

I remained silent for a while while I tried to process everything. I was so absorbed that I didn’t even notice when Ulrik stood from the armchair. It was only once he was by the bed, sitting by me, that I reacted. My whole body jolted away from him, evading the hand he tried to lay on my legs over the covers.

“I can’t—I can’t be near you right now,” I stuttered.

The sadness in his eyes was impossible to miss, and it sent a painful pinch through my chest. “I’ll leave you alone, then. When you’re ready to talk, love, I’ll be in my office.”

Again, he tried to reach for me and give my face a gentle caress, but I avoided the touch. This was too much. Not just the lie, because deep down, I could understand why it wasn’t something he shared easily—I would have thought him a madman. It was everything that came with it. If he truly was Haakon, then he was born over eleven centuries ago.

In the darkness of the room, I examined his familiar features, the face I’d grown to love, discovering it in a brand new light. This man was over a thousand years old. Not only that, but he was a legendary Norse hero I’d idolized for most of my life, a man I’d admired ever since reading about him in an old dusty book on Old Norse folklore.

And I had done so much more than that. He had been inside me so many times, I’d followed the outlines of his tattoos with my tongue, and grazed every part of his muscular body with my hands. Earlier today, I’d even swallowed his cum after giving him some fantastic morning head…

What kind of twisted was this? My childhood hero turning out to be the best lover I ever had?

I had allowed a lie inside of me and now felt violated.

“I think I need to…get back home,” I asserted with a wavering voice.

“To London?”

I nodded, knowing that if I spoke, my voice would break.

He sighed in defeat before pinching the bridge of his nose. “I would prefer if we have a talk before you go.”

“And I would prefer to leave. This is—this is too much, Ulrik. I never signed up for any of that, and now… I feel betrayed. You lured me in and made me fall in love with you so that I would stay despite all this. But it’s too much.”

It took the confusion on his face, followed by instant chagrin, for me to realize that I’d accidentally confessed my profound feelings for him.

“It was never the plan, Mila. I tried with everything I had to resist you and keep you at bay. I don’t get close to people anymore because I’ve endured too much grief. And most of all, I don’t fall in love. But then you came along, and two and a half centuries of rigorous efforts went down the drain in a matter of weeks.”

My chest clenched painfully, and I looked away from him in the hope that he wouldn’t see the way my eyes glistened with tears. As much as I wanted to disregard everything and throw myself in his arms so he would hold me tightly and make all this pain go away, I couldn’t deny the reality of the situation.

What kind of life could we have? He would never age, never die, never fall ill, while I would go through all those things, year after year. What of children further down the road? Would he put his reluctance aside and allow it? What would happen once I was sixty and old and wrinkled, and he was still his dashing self?

And beyond this future together, what of his past? I wasn’t equipped to handle a man who was old enough to have known Marco Polo, Elizabeth the 1st, Galileo… The mere fact that he was centuries older than any of them made my head spin again.

“I need to go,” I repeated, slithering myself out of the bed.

My legs were unsteady as I stood, but I used all the will I held within me to force them to carry me to the door. “Mila, please,” he called behind me.

I ignored him, swinging the door open. Yuko, standing right behind it, holding a tray filled with cookies and a steaming cup of tea, startled me. She looked embarrassed, remorseful, even.

“Miss Mila, I so sorry. I should not have leave the keys on counter.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” I said, shaking my head. Then I turned back to Ulrik, who was standing a few steps behind me.

All of this was my fault, and deep down, I wished I’d never discovered the truth and basked in content obliviousness for a while longer. But the cat was out of the bow, and there was no putting it back in there.

Before she could move, I slipped between her and the wall to hastily walk to my room. I shut the door as soon as I was there and leaned on it, taking several deep breaths. Was this really all happening, or was it some insane lucid dream?

Without even thinking about it, I pinched myself hard enough to send a jolt of pain up my arm. This was reality, as insane as it sounded.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” I mumbled to myself as I took out my bags and threw them on the bed. I’d fucked around and found out, and now everything was ruined.

Two armfuls of my things had already been thrown into the bigger bag when someone knocked on the door. “Who is it?”

“It’s me.”

I froze from head to toe, not sure if I wanted to see him or not. He’d lied to me this entire time, perfectly aware of what it meant to be with someone like him. a literal demi-god. The subterfuge was too big to discard—or maybe I just wasn’t in a state of mind where I could forgive him.

Because I didn’t want him in there trying to change my mind, I walked up to the door and opened it. There he was, all tall and handsome, the perfect illusion of a modern man, youthful and healthy, despite being older than most of the castles in Britain—which were built against Norman invasions, against the very thing he used to be.

“What?” I asked, doing my best to sound cold and detached.

His jaw ticked when he spotted the suitcase on the bed. “Is there anything I could say to make you change your mind and stay?”

I shook my head. “No. What I need right now is time and a safe space.”

Clearly, he was hoping for a different answer, but he didn’t protest, biting back whatever plea he wanted to utter. “I understand. I’ll take you to the airport whenever you’re ready.”

“I would rather if…it was someone else.”

This time, he wasn’t as good at masking the pain my words unleashed. I wasn’t hurting him on purpose, and I took no pleasure in seeing him beg. Also, this wasn’t to make him grovel and beg, as I knew he would probably win me over if he did.

“Alright, I’ll see if Jakob is available. Otherwise, I’ll call you a taxi.”

I was thankful that he respected my will so much, but it made things that much more complicated. He was a great man, even with all that. But he’d broken my trust in a way that surpassed using Yuko’s key to open the room. He’d lied about who he was from the very start. And I couldn’t disregard that.

“Thank you,” I replied, looking away.

There was a long silence during which I considered stepping back and closing the door. My heart was breaking, torn in half by my desire to stay and my need to go.

“I never wanted to hurt you, kjære ,” he whispered. And I believed him. Not because of the sincerity of his tone but because I knew him. Obviously, not all of him, but I knew that much.

Everything in me wanted to wrap my arm around his solid frame and ask him to hold me tightly. But I wasn’t sure that he would let me go if I did that.

And I probably wouldn’t let go either…

【25】A Proper Cleanse

In the end, it was a taxi that drove me to the airport. Ulrik had offered a few more times to be the one taking me there, but I couldn’t bear the idea of being stuck in the small confines of a car with him for two hours. It would have been above my strength.

So, I’d finished packing up my things under Reggie’s watchful eye, hugged Yuko, and climbed into the car that had come to fetch me at the Westergaard estate. The entire time, I’d felt Ulrik’s eyes on me, watching over my every move as I forced myself to set some distance between us. How had everything taken such an unexpected turn? How could any of this be real?

During the few hours of my journey back home, I went over every single interaction I could remember. It was as though the truth glared at me now, and I questioned the genuineness of all the words we’d exchanged. How could he have lied to me so convincingly? But then, he’d had over eleven centuries to practice.

Even the chatty old woman seated next to me on the plane wasn’t enough to distract me away from him. I was apathetic, barely responsive to her chatter. I forced a smile when she explained she was flying to London to meet her grandson for the first time, and then smiled some more when she insisted on showing me a few pictures of the newborn.

How many children has Ulrik had throughout his life? How many grandkids, great-grandkids, and so on? Had they all lived an overly long life, like Agnes? No, I supposed Ulrik’s genes had slowly been watered down by more and more mortal genes, and every generation had been less godly than its predecessor.

Halfway into the flight, I realized I hadn’t texted Gigi about my unexpected return. I’d been so absorbed by everything, so eager to get home, that I’d forgotten. But maybe it was better that way because she would have insisted on coming with her car, and I wasn’t ready to face her yet.

As soon as the plane landed, though, I switched off the airplane mode to correct my mistake. I was busy taking my carry-on out of the overhead bin when a few notifications came in. My chest tightened a little more with every buzzing of my phone, aware that at least one of those had to be Ulrik. It had been five hours since I’d left him, and I couldn’t imagine the state he was in.

Because I refused to break down so close to being home, I left it in my back pocket until I reached the baggage claim area. Nothing was on the carousels yet, so I mustered my courage and pulled my phone out.

There was indeed a message from Ulrik, as well as one from Yuko. Because it would hurt less, I opened the latter’s first. It was a sweet note wishing me safe travels and apologizing again for causing all this.

Ulrik’s message was a lot longer, and all I could manage were the first three words.

My darling Mila

. That was enough to discourage me from reading the block of text below, so I tremblingly shoved my phone back into my pocket.

By the time I was ready to take it out again, I was on the train, making my way toward downtown London. At this point, I might as well have made my return a surprise to explain why I hadn’t warned her earlier. Maybe that would earn me a few more moments before I had to explain to Gigi what had happened with Ulrik. Because honestly, what could I even tell her?

That he’d lied to me and was an immortal being? The actual son of Odin? An eleven centuries old man born in the times of Vikings and longships? She’d forcefully commit me to the closest mental institution. I could barely believe it myself despite all the evidence.

I kept a distracted hand over my suitcase during the entire ride, trying to come up with an excuse for my hasty return. It was only when I reached my building’s door that I accepted that it being a surprise truly was my only choice. All I had to do was to manage to keep it all in for about an hour, and then Gigi would leave for her evening shift at the restaurant, and I’d be left alone to ruminate my thoughts.

For a brief moment, I considered staying out until she left so I wouldn’t have to cross her path at all, but I’d missed her too much for that, and it was also too cruel.

The faint sound of the TV seeped through the thick door when I reached it, and knowing she was right there caused two opposite emotions to wash over me—relief and anxiousness. I dismissed the latter and slipped my key in the lock to open the door.

Gigi was in the kitchen, with her back to me and her eyes on the TV, but the moment she heard the hinges creak, she spun around. The slight fright on her face instantly changed into surprise when she recognized me, and then a broad smile spread on her face. I didn’t even have time to take one step inside before she was on me, wrapping her familiar arm around me.

“What are you doing here?!” she excitedly asked, holding me tightly. I felt a cat at our feet, rubbing against my legs.

“Thought I’d surprise you.”

The lie didn’t come easily, and even I could hear the slight trembling of my voice. It seemed she caught it, too, because she ripped herself away and gave me a concerned look. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, I just—I wanted to surprise you.”

My acting skills clearly needed some work because the crease between her eyebrows deepened. “What happened?”

Fuck…

“Gi, please… I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

“Did he hurt you again? That dickless piece of shit, I’ll—”

“No, he didn’t,” I quickly stopped her. I adored her protectiveness, but I couldn’t let her rage spiral right now. “It’s me, I—I got scared and fled.”

“Scared of what?”

“I felt too much, too fast… I didn’t know how to handle any of it, so I left.” That wasn’t a lie.

“Aw, Mimi…” She took me in again for a compassionate hug. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I think I just want to unpack my things and watch whatever’s on.”

“We can definitely do that. If you want, I can call someone to replace me at work.”

“No, don’t do that. You’re off tomorrow anyway, right?”

“Yeah, Vick’s supposed to come chill all day. We’re doing a Twilight marathon because they’ve never seen all the movies, and I found rules for a Twilight drinking game, but we’ll eat instead.”

“That sounds actually so perfect.”

After a brief tightening, she released me and gave me an encouraging smile. “Go on, love. Unpack your stuff, and let’s watch Love is Blind until I have to go.”

“You’ve been watching without me?!”

“Bitch, you’ve been away for three weeks! Of course, I did.”

I gave her a discontented pout but didn’t protest any further. She was right, and my lengthy and unplanned absence kind of gave her a good excuse. While she continued baking whatever she was working on in the kitchen, probably for tomorrow’s Twilight binge, I headed to my room with my stuff. Madame de Beauvoir followed me there while the other cats ignored me. It was the customary way with them. They’d pretend not to know me for a few hours, my penance for abandoning them for so long, and then things would be back to normal.

It took forever for me to unpack since I kept taking breaks to reel back my emotions. Every single item in there reminded me of him . When I reached the bottom and saw the black bracelet there, my heart broke into a thousand tiny pieces. I’d left the garnet necklace and assorted gold bracelet there because they were never mine to own. And in any case, I doubted the airport security would allow me to fly with such priceless national treasures. But I’d forgotten about the bracelet from the club.

My eyes remained on it for the longest time as I tried to figure out what to do with it. I wanted to be mature enough not to throw it away, but having it around wouldn’t do any good either. Simone was seated on the empty half of the suitcase, staring at me with her big yellow eyes.

“What would you do with it?” I asked her, bringing the bracelet closer so she could sniff it. She did, curious, and then brought her paw up to lick it, unimpressed. “Right, I should probably do a proper cleanse and get rid of it.”

Just as I was about to toss it in the trashcan by my commode, my heart twinged with doubt. I might regret doing this. In the end, I decided to shove it in the back of my jewelry drawer and deal with it another day.

When I failed to find a couple of items, I remembered that I’d handed them to Yuko early this morning, and they were probably neatly folded in the laundry room of the Westergaard Estate. Crap, there was a skirt I really liked among those things.

My roommate was sprawled on the couch by the time I came out. I’d taken a quick shower to rid myself of all the germs and nasty things I’d encountered during my long transit and was wearing an overly large T-shirt with flannel shorts.

Gi welcomed me on the couch with a smile, and when I laid my head over her lap, she began caressing my hair in a soothing way. I watched the fools on TV from that angle, finding them oh so stupid for believing in love. How could they think they knew someone they’d never seen before? Talking wasn’t everything, and secrets were so easy to keep from one another—especially that way.

Hell, I’d lived with Ulrik for weeks, and he’d kept the most monumental revelation from me, something big enough to make me question the entire world I lived in. He’d said that most gods did exist. Did that mean the Hindu gods as well? Were those figurines that Gigi kept in a small shrine by the window inspired by real beings that lived out there? What were their roles? What did they do?

“Did you tell him what we talked about this morning?” she asked out of the blue, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“Hm?”

“Did you tell him you were in love with him? And he didn’t respond? Is it why you came back?”

I shook my head, my eyes still on the screen. “No. I realized I didn’t know him,” I confessed. “I thought I did because I feel so connected to him, you know? But I know nothing about this man, and that scared the hell out of me.”

“Well, I mean… You didn’t know me either within the first weeks. It takes months, years, to truly know someone.”

“Something tells me a decade still wouldn’t be enough for this man.”

“That’s what makes it interesting. The exploration of it.”

“Gi… I don’t want to talk about him, please.”

Her hand in my hair paused. “Are you sure he didn’t hurt you? You have to tell me if he did, Mimi, and I’ll book a one-way ticket to Norway to kick him in the balls.”

“Why just one-way?”

“Because I probably wouldn’t stop at the balls, and they’d arrest me to put me in one of those super fancy prisons they have.”

I chuckled. “You can go to prison, babe. I need you too much.”

“Sure, that’s why you abandoned me for so long.”

“It was three weeks,” I defended myself with a scandalized smile. “And it was one of the best career opportunities I’ve ever had.”

“Will your exhibit be absolutely fantastic, then?”

Ah, crap… There was also that.

“We’ll see,” I replied.

She stayed for another twenty minutes, and then she was forced to leave. Long after she closed the door behind her, I was still mindlessly staring at the TV, surrounded by my cats. Simones was on me, purring her heart out, and for the first time in my life, I sensed the therapeutic virtues of purring. The lulling sound helped a lot, somehow.

It took Netflix asking if I was still there for me to decide to get a move on. Since I wasn’t hungry, I forwent dinner and brushed my teeth before heading to bed. I left the door partially open to ensure the cats had access to me and snuggled under the covers.

In the darkness of my room, I replayed yet again the events of the day. Last night, Ulrik and I made love, the moment so sweet and poignant that I finally acknowledged my feelings for him. And now… Now, I was alone again, feeling lonely and betrayed. How could this man do this to me?

The phone on my nightstand dinged with a notification, reminding me that I still hadn’t mustered the courage to read his lengthy text. When I picked up my phone, I saw it was him again. The text was short enough for me to read it in the notification.

Just let me know if you’ve made it home, please.

Something told me he would keep messaging me until I answered, so I unlocked my screen to send a quick reply.

I’m home.

Then, I took a long and deep breath before scrolling up to read his earlier text.

My darling Mila,

I can’t begin to express how deeply sorry I am for keeping this truth from you. I understand the shock and hurt you must be feeling, and words aren’t sufficient to encompass the depth of my regrets.

I never meant for our relationship to be built on deception. In fact, I never expected this to turn into a relationship at all. The truth about my origin is something I’ve carried for centuries, and it’s always been a heavy burden to bear. I was afraid that revealing it would drive you away, that you would see me as some mythical creature rather than a man. A fool, even, who was falling in love with you a little more with every day that passed. That fear doesn’t excuse my actions, but I hope it sheds some light on why I kept this secret.

Words became blurry and hard to read, tears filling my eyes to roll down my temples. But I pushed through, ignoring the ache in my chest.

Everything else between us has been genuine and heartfelt. My feelings for you are real, Mila. I swore to myself that I wouldn’t go down this route ever again, but you were a force of nature I couldn’t foresee. Your kindness, your humor, your intelligence…those are a few of the qualities that captured my heart.

I respect your decision to leave, and I understand that you need time to process this revelation. I hope that someday you can find it in you to forgive me for the deception. I’ll be waiting, elskling, ready to return to your side if you can accept me in your life once more.

Know that my feelings for you will remain unchanged, regardless of where life takes us.

Yours forever,

Ulrik

Alright, reading his text had been a terrible idea. How was I supposed to sleep now? I was sobbing uncontrollably, and even pulling Simone in my arms to hug her couldn’t help.

Why did things have to take such a messed up turn? Of the millions of men in this city, why him? Why did this have to happen to me? All of this was unfair and cruel.

I cried myself to sleep, to the point that even if it was his face that I saw whenever I closed my eyes, it didn’t matter. I was too exhausted to care at this point.

【26】Things Got Ugly

Time was supposed to help heal all wounds, so it was what I needed to give myself. Time. Then, the agonizing ache that wouldn’t leave my chest would slowly fade away, and I’d be left with nothing but distant memories and a new understanding of our world.

I woke up the next day with another couple of texts from him. He wanted to talk, wanted me to let him plead his case. But we’d done this twice already, dinner where I’d sat and listened while he’d charmed me into forgetting anything that wasn’t him. I wasn’t falling for it again. I was too smart for that.

To keep myself distracted and get away from Gigi’s questions, I headed off to work the next day. Seeing my colleagues and keeping busy would prevent me from overthinking about what I’d left behind. As I walked the grounds of the museum, the familiar hallways seemed almost foreign. Those few weeks at the Westergaard estate felt like months, as if my entire life had been put on hold for much longer than it actually had.

Colleagues greeted me with enthusiasm as I crossed their paths, and I did my best to match their energy and pretend I wasn’t feeling hollow inside. But while work acquaintances were easy to fool, I dreaded the moment I’d meet Ian, Henry, and Ingrid. They knew me enough to notice if something was off. That was why I took in a deep breath before opening the door to the shared office, hoping things would be smooth.

To my relief, I was the first one there, so after a sigh, I went to sit on my chair. I was catching up with a few emails when the door opened, and Ian appeared. Unmoving, I observed as my boss walked in, oblivious to my presence. Just as he was reaching his desk, I cleared my throat. With a slight jump, he turned around to face me. His face went through an array of emotions—fright, surprise, and confusion as soon as he recognized me.

“Holy shite, lass… Ye scared me.”

“Do I look that tired?”

He shook his head with a broad smile as he came toward me. I’d missed him and his plaid shirts, lush beard, and glasses. I stood from my chair, and we hugged for a moment.

“I didn’t know ye were coming back,” he said once he’d released me.

“Yeah, I wanted to surprise you. And everyone, really.”

“It’s good to have you back, Mila. This office isn’t the same without you in it.”

The grin that claimed my lips didn’t even need to be faked. “I can see that. It’s so clean and orderly.”

His deep laugh echoed within me. “Ye know what I meant, ye little minx. So, how was Oslo? We haven’t spoken since your trip there.”

I held back a wince. “It was…great. Ulr—Mr. Westergaard took me to a gallery that sells priceless antiques.” Talking of Ulrik—or rather Haakon—came at a price, and I was forced to look away from my boss and to my desk instead. “I never realized how easy it is for rich people to own whatever they want. He bought so many things there and never even batted an eye at the prices.”

“That’s not right if ye ask me. Such pieces belong in museums, not pirate collections,” Ian mumbled. Part of me wanted to argue in Ulrik’s favor, to explain that he actually returned most of his collection to their countries of origin, but I held back. I had no obligation to defend him or his image. Ian seemed to reach that conclusion himself since he continued with, “I suppose it’s a good thing he’s willing to share, though. Did you finish your selection for your exhibit?”

This time, I couldn’t help but grimace. With everything going on, I hadn’t even gotten that far into my reflections. The repercussions of my hasty leave and Ulrik’s revelations were still slowly making their way into my grasp. I wanted Ulrik and his lies gone from my life. My broken heart couldn’t take more of him, not when I now knew the truth. But borrowing from him as I had intended would mean another two ears of entanglement, at the very least. Two years of being constantly reminded of him, of the time we shared together, of the world-altering truth bombs he’d dropped on me…

I’d been having sex with the actual son of Odin. Worse yet, I’d fallen in love with my childhood hero, a being who was over eleven centuries old. What a clusterfuck…

“I’m not sure I can go through with the exhibit,” I sheepishly confessed, avoiding Ian’s eyes once more. “As it turns out, I might have bitten off more than I can chew.”

“I thought ye were finding great pieces over there?”

“I was, but…the idea I had—to center it around Haakon and great Norse legends—feels wrong. I think I need to come up with a new theme, but I don’t know what. Maybe we should do what you originally suggested about the trading system and how Vikings changed the economy?”

“That’s going to delay things. We have a month to submit the exhibit and the pieces we need so that we can open in the spring. The scenography will change, and the one that ye worked on and that was already approved will be for nothing.”

“I know,” I said with a wince. I’d already spent so many hours working on the exhibit that canceling it would be a waste. And that was without including the time others had already put in. “Maybe I can make something work without the Westergaard pieces,” I tried.

Ian said nothing for a moment, looking at me intently as though he were trying to read my mind. I stood under his scrutiny, aware that he’d caught up on something.

“Did something happen with Mr. Westergaard?” he asked very gravely. My wince and elusive gaze gave him an obvious answer, but he didn’t reach the correct conclusion. “Did he hurt ye, Mila?”

My eyes widened with surprise. Ulrik had hurt me, yes, but not in the way Ian thought. I tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t be too incriminating, but nothing came. I couldn’t tell Ian the truth about Ulrik’s origins because not only would he never believe me, but it also wasn’t the kind of knowledge I could freely pass around. But I didn’t need that to explain my reluctance to collaborate with Ulrik.

“No, he didn’t,” I asserted. “Not really, at least.”

“Then what happened?”

“We…we became intimate,” I confessed.

Ian paused for several seconds, processing my words behind his neutral expression. “Ye got in bed with him?”

“Several times.” And out of bed, too…

“And things got ugly?”

“Kind of, yes…”

He closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh. The disappointment laced in it tore a little piece of my heart out. I never wanted to disappoint my mentor, but I’d done just that.

“Ye do know he’s the museum’s biggest donator, aye?”

“I’m well aware, yes.”

“And ye got entangled with him.”

“I tried not to. I really, really tried,” I whimpered. “But…he looks like he does, and he’s charming, and he was so kind to me—sometimes.”

Ian passed one of his big hands over his face. “I suppose I should have seen it coming. Ye’re both young and attractive, living in close proximity for three weeks… Yeah, that was always going to happen.”

“I promise we tried to stay professional,” I insisted.

“I believe ye, lass. But now we have beef with one of the museum’s biggest sources of income, and that’s no good.”

“It’s not like that; he doesn’t have a problem with us. It’s me, I—I don’t want to…deal with him.”

“What did he do to you?”

He’d offered the world to me, promised to be truthful and honest, only to leave out the most crucial part of himself. He had entrapped me by making me fall in love with him, hoping I would stay despite the blow. Every fiber in me felt like Ulrik’s lies warranted my reaction, but Ian didn’t know all that, and if I answered yes to his question, he would assume the worst had happened. And no matter how hurt I was, I wouldn’t tarnish Ulrik’s image like this. It wouldn’t be right.

So, resigned, I shook my head. “Let’s just say we didn’t part on good terms.”

Ian’s expression was one of disappointment and authority. “Then that’s not how it works, Mila. Yes, ye shouldn’t have let things go that far with him. But now’s the time ye act professionally. Ye bite down yer tongue, and ye get things done. Ye’re both grown adults, so ye act like it.”

It was only fair, so I pinched my lips and endured the blow. Ian was right. No matter how things had ended with Ulrik, I had a job to do, and I couldn’t let my hurt feelings get in the way of that. I’d begged for the honor of creating my very first exhibit. People counted on me for it now, and I couldn’t let them down. But I was confident that I could manage without Ulrik’s collection. It had been the plan until recently, and it would become the plan again.

“Can you not tell anyone?” I asked Ian with a pleading look.

“About yer ‘entanglement’ with Mr. Westergaard?” I nodded. “Of course, lass. That’s yer private life, and I’m not one for gossip.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry that I disappointed you like that.”

“Eh, ye didn’t. Believe it or not, but I was young and foolish once, too. I’m not surprised it happened, but I hope there won’t be hell to pay for it.”

Ulrik didn’t strike me as someone vindictive or petty. And he knew he was the one who’d messed up in this situation, so I wasn’t the one at fault.

“Everything will be okay,” I reassured my boss. “He isn’t like that.”

“Good… Now, I do hope ye sort this out because I really want to see those pieces ye told me about. Quite the collection this man has, eh?”

Yes, it was quite the collection, indeed. Which ultimately made sense, given that he’d been gathering it for over a thousand years…

By the time Ingrid arrived, the awkward tension had dissipated, and everything was back to the way it used to be. Or almost.

I was distracted, constantly brought back to moments I’d shared with Ulrik. Everything made so much sense, but at the same time, I still couldn’t accept it. His talent for languages—Norwegian, English, Japanese, Italian, and God knew how many more—was now an easy feat since he’d been there for a millennium. His uncanny sexual abilities, too. No wonder he knew the female anatomy so damn well. He’s been working his way around it for ages.

After a moment in the shared office to catch up with a few things, I decided to pay a visit to my buddy Henry. He, too, had no idea I was back, and I was sure his easy-going nature would help me feel better. I knocked once I arrived in front of his lab’s door and waited for his invitation in. Hunched over a microscope, he didn’t look up at me at first, finishing up with his observation first. When he did, his eyebrows shot up on his forehead.

“You’re back?!” he asked, incredulous.

“No, I’m a ghost. I’ll haunt you for the rest of your life.”

“Deal.”

We walked to one another with grins and exchanged a brief hug. “So, how was your vacation?” he teased.

“It was nowhere near a vacation, you dick. And it was…enlightening.”

“Yeah, I saw the pictures. Some of those pieces are remarkably well-preserved.”

“I know. I so wish I could have brought you with me. You’d have been in heaven.”

“Maybe next time,” he said with a shrug.

I held back from telling him there wouldn’t be a next time and looked around instead. “What about you? Any advances?”

“Well, kind of. I’ve been working on the sword in my spare time because I have so much to do for other departments. And I’m tired of having to explain to colleagues around Europe that it isn’t a prank, so I’m all alone now. But I got to do an X-ray earlier this week, and I found a hidden detail,” he explained, visibly excited.

I waited while he went to get something from the backroom, fidgeting. It was one thing to have him work on the sword when it was an archeological mystery. It was another now that I knew the truth behind its impossible state of preservation. Now I understood why Henry struggled to get even a shave of metal out of it. The dwarves in the mines of Nidavellir had forged it. The blade was as mystical as Thor’s hammer and Odin’s spear. The laws of men and physics didn’t apply to it.

Henry came back with the sword and a large folder, and he settled both on the glass in the middle of the room. Then he went to fetch a magnifying glass and returned. “Alright, so in the X-ray, I found out that something was engraved under the ornaments here,” he explained, pointing at the grip. “It’s runes, so I couldn’t translate it, but I thought you might.”

“Sure. Show me.”

He pulled out a dark sheet from the folder and spread it in front of me before handing me the magnifying glass. “Right over here,” he showed on the X-ray.

I leaned in and looked for the runes, curious. It was hard to distinguish because the engraved details of the ornaments came in the way. But once a few runes had revealed themselves to me, I instantly knew what it was. The signatures of the proud artists who’d crafted this masterpiece. Brokkr and Sindri.

“So?” Henry asked when I straightened up.

“Uh… I don’t know. It’s hard to tell. I’d need a clearer view,” I lied.

He sighed, disappointed. “I knew it would be a long shot. Have you translated the runes on the other sword?”

Oh, wow… I’d been so busy that I hadn’t even taken a moment to sit down and do that. Now that Henry was mentioning it, though, it seemed incredibly silly of me. “No, not yet.”

“Maybe they’ll make more sense than this one.”

“Maybe yeah…”

“If you want to do it now, I have the picture you sent me on my tablet,” he offered.

I nodded, and while he went to fetch his tablet, I sat on a chair by the table. Looking at the sward was doing strange things to me. It belonged to Ulrik, its legitimate owner. And not out of some weird generational claim, but because it was actually his, a gift from his father.

Henry sat by my side as I did my best to translate the runes, but they didn’t make much sense either. We stared at the notes I’d written down, perplexed. “Either you’re terrible at this, or they were very drunk when they wrote it,” Henry caustically let out.

“I’m amazing at it, but I doubt they were drunk.” I think about it for a few seconds, my eyes alternating between the sword’s picture on the tablet and the actual sword on the table. “What if—”

When I didn’t continue, hesitant, he insisted. “What if what?”

“These swords are an identical pair, right?”

“Yes.”

“They were meant to be together. So what if the runes are meant to be read together as well?” I ventured.

“Does it make more sense when you read them that way?”

I gave myself a moment to think about it and ripped the page off the notebook to start over. I drew the runes in the same order they were in, symbolizing the two swords side by side. Then I worked on the translation again again, and my eyes lit up. “It does, yeah,” I breathed out.

“What does it say, then?”

“Per usual, this is an interpretation because a strict translation is impossible,” I reminded him.“

“I know, I know. Just tell me already!”

“Okay, so… Put together, it would say something along the lines of ‘This hallowed gift grants the power of Odin to whoever wields both blades.’”

We stared at the sword in silence for a moment, stunned. I wasn’t entirely surprised because I knew this had been a gift from Odin to his illegitimate son, but the power thing had me speechless. Was this why Ulrik wanted the sword back so badly? Was there something else to the blades? Both swords needed to be together to unlock some kind of extraordinary power. Odin’s power.

“Alright, I maintain they were very drunk when coming up with this,” Henry concluded, skeptical.

“Yeah, that’s…weird,” I agreed, playing along.

“Even though I’ve seen proof myself, I swear I feel like this whole thing is an elaborate prank.”

“I know the feeling…”

Ever since this sword had landed on my lap, my life had become a messy swirl of unfortunate events. At this point, I would rather have never gotten it than everything it came with. I missed my life before Ulrik, before I knew gods were real, and before my heart was torn in half. I missed those easy, effortless days of work among friendly colleagues and then coming home to my best friend. Not knowing had been so easy in comparison to this. It was too early to tell if I would prefer returning to that blissful obliviousness, but all that knowledge was weighing on me, changing my life in the most elemental way.

All of that because Annie McCaine had sent me this stupid sword.

“Pack it up,” I told Henry. “We’re sending it to Norway—to its rightful owner.”

“Wait, are you serious?”

“Yes. I’m done with this.”

“There a lot more that we could find from this Mila. Ancient secrets and—”

“It’s not like anyone would ever believe us, is it? You’ve said it yourself that professionals in your field think it’s a prank.” I paused long enough to admire the sword one last time. This was a curse, not a blessing. “I’d rather we send it back and move on,” I insisted.

That way, there was nothing left between Ulrik and me. We didn’t owe anything to one another, and hopefully, he would stop texting me soon.

【27】Half of Me

It was odd to watch the world go on despite my ongoing turmoil. But with every day that passed, things became slightly more manageable. My worries about the exhibit still lingered to some extent, but I found enough interesting pieces to compensate for the Westergaard collection. I would make something work, and that was a relief.

Ulrik still texted me a couple of times a day, and my lack of answers didn’t deter him from doing so. There was no doubt in my mind that he was apologetic about the way things had evolved, but I couldn’t look past the manipulation and lies. Even when I did, even when I understood why he’d done it, I couldn’t forgive the deception.

I would have thought him mad if he’d told me about it early on. What person in their right mind would claim to be the immortal son of Odin? I would have run in the other direction without looking back.

But there was a moment between us being acquaintances and us becoming an item when the topic should have been brought up. And that moment had probably been at that Italian restaurant, where he’d revealed so much about himself—but not enough. How could he have promised as much as he had and thought that his godly condition wasn’t an important factor to bring up? It made me wonder when exactly he would have found it in him to come forward with it. After we’d moved in together? After a wedding? Once we had children together?

Not that he actually wanted children anyway. I understood that as well, and why he refused to father another child. I’d seen him with Agnes, and the care and tenderness he had for her made all the sense in the world. The natural order of life was for a parent to die before their child, but he’d outlived every single one of his descendants. Again, this immortality of his was more of a curse than a blessing. What a lonely life…

Over a week went by since my return, And as Friday rolled in, I was ready for a stronger kind of distraction. Work and Gigi were good, but not enough. I still felt as though I’d left a chunk of my heart back in Norway, and I needed booze and music to forget about it.

Thankfully, my roommate had the perfect thing for me. “Is Henry joining us?” she asked from her room as we were getting ready.

“Yeah, he said he’s stop by with his fiancée. And Ian’s having a date night with his wife, and they might come after the restaurant.”

“Ah, that’s brilliant. Vick will have so much success that they’ll have to hire them.”

I nodded even though she couldn’t see me, smoothing the black dress over my hips.

A movement to my left caught my eye, and I looked to the door to find Gi leaning on the frame. She’d gone to the hairdresser earlier today, and the previously fading color of her hair was now vividly pink. “Can you believe it, though?” she asked with a dreamy smile. “I never thought I’d find myself someone so bloody perfect.”

My smile didn’t quite reach my eyes, so I looked away to grab my mascara. Vick had quit their job at the club to find something closer to Gi’s schedule. They’d found a position in a trendy bar downtown, which was right by the metro line that had a stop near us. Tonight was their first night, and we were coming to show our support.

The lack of response didn’t fool Gigi, who came in to sit on the bed while I added another coat of mascara to my lashes. “Have you still not texted him?” she softly wondered.

I met her eyes in the mirror before shaking my head. “I told you I was done with him.”

She sighed. “Did he text you again today?”

“This morning.”

“I know you’re still hurting, love, but you’ll have to tell me what happened exactly. Everything was going so well, and them…nothing.”

“Turns out we weren’t compatible. That’s all.”

“That’s what I don’t get, Mimi. You two were beyond compatible; you were flammable. Did you lie when you said he didn’t hurt you? If that’s what happened, I’ll get it and stop asking, babe.”

I gave myself a moment to reply as I returned the mascara to its drawer. Again, I wouldn’t take the easy road and tarnish his image for my comfort. I wasn’t a coward like that. “I’m not ready for the kind of relationship he expected,” I decided to say before applying a precise layer of red lipstick.

“What did he want?”

The sadness in my eyes when I met my reflection was undeniable. “Everything. He offered himself up to me—all of him. And I thought I was fine with it, but… it’s too much. I don’t want that much responsibility.”

“Is it your fucked up family history talking?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. Now, unless you’re trying to make me feel depressed before we join Vick, we should talk about something else.”

She rolled her eyes in a discontented way. “I know there’s more to this, Mila. I’ll give you some space, but one day, you’ll have to tell me the truth about what happened.”

I kept my eyes on her as she made her way out of my room, ignoring the twinge of guilt in my chest. Her concern was understandable and commendable, but I didn’t need to open up about Ulrik. All I needed was time to process everything and forget him. Then I’d be alright.

I was wrapped in a long and warm wool coat when we entered the lounge bar after a quick ride in the subway. The place obviously catered to the rich, and for a moment, I worried about the dent this would put in my savings. But we were here to show support to Vick, so it would be worth it. And really, we could do a couple of drinks here and then move on to a good old Irish pub to get plastered.

Funnily enough, I blended well with the clientele and didn’t look too out of place. Gigi, though, with her bright pink hair and neon blue jacket. The powder pink dress underneath wasn’t the most suited either, but it fit her like a glove, and she looked stunning in it.

A man posted by the entrance accompanied us to an available booth, and he took the coats from us before leaving. Vick had noticed us from the bar, and Gigi gave them an energetic wave, which prompted them to smile.

“This place looks amazing,” I said as we sat down.

“Vick told me it was boujee as hell. Next time, we’ll have a few drinks at home before heading here,” she offered, having had the same thoughts as me. “No way I spend more than twenty quids on drinks every time.”

“And this doesn’t strike me as the kind of place where sleeping with the bartender gets you free drinks.”

“Right? Maybe I’ll tell Vick to get a job at the pub down the streets from ours,” she replied with humor.

I remained seated while she went over to the bar to greet Vick. While the two of them spoke, I mindlessly took my phone out and opened my messages. This was like a litany that returned a hundred times a day at least, where I read the messages Ulrik relentlessly sent me. The last one broke my heart a little further.

I understand your reluctance, and your anger is justified. All I ask is that you hear me out, love. I think we deserve at least that, don’t you?

We did, didn’t we? But if I agreed to meet him so we could have a talk, I’d relapse instantly. He haunted my dreams as it was, with tender and lustful moments, with the sound of his voice, the raspy tunes of his laugh… Meeting him would overcome my resolve, and I couldn’t afford that. He’s always been great at winning me back, and I wouldn’t let him do that once more.

There was no way I’d never cross Ulrik’s path again. It was a miracle I’d never met him before, as we both attended galas hosted by the museum and shared a deep interest in Viking history. I was bound to see him again, and God knew how I’d react to that. The magnetic pull that had only grown stronger between us was still there—I could feel it even with the North Sea between us.

But I stood a chance if weeks, months, or years went by until that happened. Maybe I’d move on, grow out of love with him, meet someone new… Meeting him soon, though, was out of the question.

“What’s got your knickers in a twist?” Gigi asked, returning with two cocktails.“

“Nothing,” I lied, locking my phone’s screen and putting it away.

“There, I asked Vick for something bitter for you,” she explained, setting a tall and slim glass in front of me. “And not because you like it, but to match your mood.”

“Bitch.”

“Twat.”

We drank in silence for a moment, letting the soft music of the trendy bar fill the space. Then, I asked Gigi about the Christmas menu she was coming up with for her restaurant, and she launched herself into an eager monologue where she gave me the finer details of it. We’d just reached the third course when Henry and his fiancée arrived. From there, the conversation flowed effortlessly, and my mind floated away from the Viking who’d been occupying all of it lately.

It was my turn to get us a round of drinks when my phone buzzed in my bag. I fished it out on my way to the bar, and when I read the contact name on it, I froze. Yuko was calling me.

She hadn’t contacted me after her initial text, so a wave of anguish washed over me as the phone rang in my trembling hand. Why would she call me at this hour? Had something happened? My throat was tight with worry, and I changed my trajectory to head toward the exit instead. The bar was too crowded and loud, so I needed to take it outside. Before the call could go to voicemail, I picked up and brought the phone to my ear.

“Is everything alright, Yuko?” I asked as I passed the door.

The cool air of the evening enveloped me, goosebumps forming on my bare arms. But the shiver that ran up my back moments later wasn’t caused by the cold but rather by the deep voice that answered my question.

“What is this, Mila?” Ulrik… He’d tricked me by calling me with her phone.

I’d missed his voice more than I was willing to admit, and despite the barely contained annoyance I could hear in it, I was already eager to hear more of his baritone pitch.

“Why did you send me the sword?” he insisted when I didn’t answer.

“Be—because it’s yours.”

“We had a deal. I’ll get it back in January, and I’ll send you the pieces you need in exchange.”

“I won’t need your pieces. I’d rather we…stop all contact from now on.”

There was a long break, during which I considered hanging up. But the appeal of hearing more of his voice, even just a few fleeting words, was enough to fight the urge.

“I can’t accept that, love,” he said softly. “I meant everything I said, you know? The only thing I lied about was my origins, but everything else… It was true. I crave a future with you.”

My emotions were running so strong that I could barely feel the cold anymore, obnubilated by his heartfelt plea. “What kind of future would that be, Ulrik? I would age, but you wouldn’t. It can’t—it can’t work.”

“Of course it can. I have evolved past things as trivial as physical appearance, Mila. I wouldn’t care.”

“You’re not even human, Ulrik,” I said into the phone. A couple that passed by me to enter the bar sent me a confused side glance, so I brought my hand between the phone and my lips.

“ is. Isn’t it enough?“ he murmured into the phone.

“It’s the other half I’m worried about. I don’t think I can be enough for it. I don’t think I could handle it.”

“You could. I know you could. And you’re beyond enough, kjære .”

“Ulrik, please…” I nearly begged, on the verge of tears. “Whatever this was, it’s over. I don’t think I could trust you again after everything I went through. So please, stop trying to contact me. I can’t— It hurts too much.”

“Mila, wai—”

I didn’t let him finish his sentence, hanging up with a push of my shaky thumb. Still standing in the street in my flimsy dress, I ignored the cold and proceeded to block both his number and Yuko’s. For my own sanity, I couldn’t keep doing this.

When a tear rolled down my cheek, I carefully wiped it away, minding my makeup. I stood there for a moment, trying to regain my composure before I had to return to the others.

Despite how wrong it felt, this was the right thing to do—severing all contact with him. One day, I would be ready to face him again. But that day wasn’t here yet, and I had to give myself time to heal.

He would move on, too, and forget about me soon enough.

【28】Ambushed

Friday evening was more time than I had intended. But we made up for it by going out on Saturday evening. The nightclub I went to was packed, and because Gigi was working, I motivated a couple of girlfriends to join me instead.

We danced and drank like there was no tomorrow. I was so far gone that Ulrik didn’t come to mind for a solid four hours—a feat I hadn’t accomplished since meeting him. When a man came behind me, though, to hug my frame as I undulated on the dance floor, I was sent back to that club we’d visited in Oslo.

For about a minute, I allowed the man to dance behind me, his erection nested against my swinging behind. He was tall, muscular, and relatively good-looking. Although, I might have been too drunk to judge the latter fairly. His hair was a dark shade of brown that matched his eyes, and I entertained the idea of taking him home. The stranger might be a great way to distract myself from the Norwegian demigod that occupied my mind.

But the idea of being intimate with anyone that wasn’t Ulrik repulsed me. I couldn’t imagine myself naked in bed with someone who wasn’t him. And deep down, I knew that no man would ever match his bedroom skills. Taking that stranger home would do nothing but leave me frustrated and missing Ulrik even more.

So, instead, I went home alone at around three in the morning, completely plastered, coated in sweat and possibly alcohol. Gigi was fast asleep when I checked on her, so I headed to the bathroom in perfect silence and took a quick shower before sleeping in my pajamas. Instead of my cold and unwelcoming bed, I returned to her bedroom and slept under her cover, snuggling against her plump silhouette for comfort. She barely moved, but she must have sensed my presence because her arm came over mine as she wriggled closer to me.

I fell asleep to a world that spun around me, with her flowery scent in my nose and with my thoughts on Norway and what I had left behind.

Sunday was spent recuperating from my overindulgence. I had drank way too much, and it took several tablets of aspirin to get rid of the headache that came with the hangover. Gigi was particularly lenient with me, feeding me greasy food while I lay on the couch, comatose. She hadn’t asked more about what had happened with Ulrik, but she could probably tell that something was wrong with me. Which made sense, given that I wasn’t very good at hiding it.

On Monday, I still felt like shit. Objectively, I knew it wasn’t because of the alcohol anymore, but I kept telling myself that. It was simpler than to admit that maybe I was making all the wrong decisions. Ulrik’s call, his attempt to trigger a conversation and explain himself, was haunting me. As he had said, half of him was human after all, and maybe that health was worthy of forgiveness. That part of him was surely as flawed as all of us mortals. The greed, needs, and want that had pushed him to deceive me was all too understandable. I wasn’t perfect myself, but I had never made the same adamant promises as he had. I had never hidden who I was at my very core, so my knee-jerk reaction was probably not a surprise to him.

I had always been fiercely independent, and I supposed that I had commitment issues—an unwanted trait that probably stemmed from my fear of abandonment. How could I believe that anyone would love me enough to stay around when even my own mother hadn’t? But Ulrik and his promises had convinced me that maybe I was lovable, that perhaps someone out there could love me enough to stay with me until the end.

Now, however, I wasn’t sure what to believe anymore. This sense of betrayal, the acrid taste it left in my mouth, ran much deeper than I could even grasp. For the first time in my life, I had opened my heart to someone in a romantic manner. Stripped of my walls and usual reserve, I had allowed Ulrik in. I’d let him reach out to grab my pulsing and bleeding heart into his strong hands. I had entrusted him with the most precious, the most fiercely guarded part of me.

And he had carelessly crushed it.

“Mila?” Ingrid called, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I jolted back into reality, hearing only now that the phone on my desk was ringing. I’d been sending out emails and doing research all morning, doing everything I could to make up for my decision to dismiss Ulrik’s collection.

Still a little startled, I picked up the phone and brought it to my ear. “Viking department, how may I help you?”

“Hi, love. This is Mr. Mullins’ office. I need to speak to Miss Connelly, please.”

“This is she.”

“Oh, brilliant. Mr. Mullins would like you to join him to handle the delivery.”

“The…delivery?”

“Yes, your pieces from Norway have arrived. Mr. Mullins is headed to the shipment room as we speak.”

Pieces from Norway? What the hell was she talking about?

A slight shiver traveled up my spine all the way to the back of my neck, and goosebumps erupted on my forearms.

Ulrik… What had he done?

I’d told him I wouldn’t need his collection in the end, but had he decided to ignore it? Was it some way to keep something between us? Or was he simply adamant about honoring our arrangement?

Stunned, I let Mullins’ assistant know that I was on my way and hung up. But instead of getting up, I stayed seated for a moment, trying to think. The director was already on it, so I couldn’t possibly refuse the delivery. It would mean that I wasted everyone’s time, and it wouldn’t look good. Maybe that was the reason why Ulrik had gone over my head like this, setting everything into action without asking for my input and involving my boss.

Part of me was relieved that I’d have the pieces because the exhibit would be better for it. Another part dreaded the fact that it meant I’d have to deal with Ulrik for the next two years.

With a sigh, I stood from my desk chair and exited the office. I was almost dizzy as I made my way to the shipment room. The manipulative move was wrong, but it betrayed just how much Ulrik needed to fix things with me, or at least how hard he tried to reconnect—via any means available to him.

Before I even opened the door, I could hear the activity on the other side of it. People were busy unloading whatever shipment Ulrik had sent our way. I opened the door without a pause, refusing to let myself spiral into overthinking again. There was probably a way to be smart about this, and I would eventually find it.

Mr. Mullins was easy to sort out among the employees, given his stylish suit, but he wasn’t what caught my attention first. No, the tall and blond man standing next to him with his back to me immediately commanded my gaze. Those shoulders were familiar because I’d clung to them during moments of uninhibited passion. These locks’ silky texture was one my fingers knew well from tangling and pulling on them while his tongue worked wonders on my intimacy.

Ulrik…

Of course, he was right here, handling the delivery himself. Why wouldn’t he, when it was his assurance that he’d see me again?

I stood there like an idiot, considering going back to my office and never getting out. This whole thing brought me back to the first time I’d glimpsed at Ulrik, talking to Mullins like he was now, looking so powerful and mighty even though I could only see the back of him. But things were so different now. Worlds apart.

His presence right there rendered my brain useless, so I failed to find a way out. Not before Mullins turned toward me, at least, and noticed that I had entered.

“Ah, Brilliant. Miss Connelly is here,” he enthusiastically exclaimed.

I noticed the way Ulrik tensed. It was barely perceptible but enough for my expert eye to see it—I knew him too well not to. He didn’t turn around right away, probably just as apprehensive as I was. My attention latched on the solid column of his throat over the crisp collar of his dark blue jacket. When the muscles there moved, his head turning, I ripped my eyes away and focused on Mullins instead. I wasn’t ready for this.

The director encouraged me to join them with a hand gesture, and I mechanically complied. Although I never looked at Ulrik, I could sense his eyes fixed on me with intensity.

“We were just talking about your incredible dedication to history,” Mullins said once I was with them. “Mr. Westergaard was telling me how thankful he is for your keen eye and that you cataloged thousands of pieces from his collection.”

I nodded, unsure what to say.

“Good morning, Miss Connelly.”

Hearing him in person was even more troubling than the phone call. The minute details of his voice had been lost, but I could perceive them all now.

Because I couldn’t keep ignoring him without awakening Mr. Mullins’ suspicions, I forced myself to look at Ulrik, plastering the semblance of a smile on my lips.

The blueness of his irises sent a surge of unwanted memories to flood my mind. That face, which I had grown to love, was closed off. But I could tell that his jaw was flexed tightly, which meant he was restraining himself for the sake of our cover.

“Mr. Westergaard, I hope your journey here went well,” I amiably said.

“It did. I flew in the pieces myself.”

Of course, he had… “Well, thank you for that. I’ll return to my office to continue my work.”

I didn’t even have time to offer a polite nod before Mullins intervened. “Mr. Westergaard told me he would love to take you out for lunch to thank you for your assiduous work with his collection.”

The nerve this man had… I couldn’t contain the miffed glare I briefly sent him. “I already have plans for lunch.”

“Surely nothing more important than accepting Mr. Westergaard’s offer.”

Fuck…

“Mr. Mullins’?” someone called further in the room—a worker with a clipboard. When our boss turned to him, he added, “I need your signature on a few documents.”

“Excuse me,” Mullins said before heading off.

As soon as we were alone, I gave Ulrik a darkened glare. “Lunch? Really?” I muttered. “How many times must we do this? How many times will you force me to sit down and eat while you explain your lies and deceptions to me?”

My words hit him hard, something sad and wounded flickering in his eyes. “Hopefully, this one will be the last time.

“What are you even doing here ?”

“You wouldn’t talk to me, Mila.”

“So you decided to ambush me?!”

“What else was I supposed to do?”

“Move on.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why?”

A mirthless chuckle poured out of him. “Have you met yourself? You are the most vividly interesting person I have met in at least three hundred years.”

“I doubt that. And speaking in centuries isn’t helping me feel any less weird about who you are, you know?”

“Maybe, but from now on, I pledge my unconditional honesty to you, Mila.”

“It’s too late for that.”

“Would you have believed me? During that first lunch at Gigi’s Parlour? You would have thought that I belonged to an asylum and fled.”

“There were other moments, Ulrik.”

“I considered telling you in that Italian restaurant, but I abstained. I was about to lose you, and this would have been the final drop—whether you believed me or not.”

He was right. I’d be so close to leaving for good that it wouldn’t have been the proper time for it. I looked away from him and faced Mullins instead, folding my arms across my breasts.

Something grazed my lower back, and the electric shiver it ignited told me precisely what it was. His hand traced a delicate path up my back, triggering a need I wasn’t sure I could contain.

“Have lunch with me, love. One last time. We’ll talk about whatever you want, I promise.”

I tried to stay strong, still looking away, but he was making it particularly hard.

“Aren’t you curious ?” he insisted, his voice like warm licorice. “You have studied Vikings for half of your life. Now you have one, a real one who was there throughout that entire era. Don’t you want to use it to your advantage? Don’t you want answers?”

It was cheap of him to get me like this through my academic curiosity. Of course, I was dying to get answers from him. He held explanations for mysteries that were over a thousand years old. The historian in me would give a limb just to have an hour with someone like him—a bottomless well of forgotten knowledge.

But there was a lot more to this deal than just getting a history lesson from someone who had been through history itself. We were entwined in a way that went far beyond the professional setting he offered. Even if I was in charge of the conversation and the one leading the questions, things would undoubtedly get personal. And I wasn’t ready for it.

“I wasn’t lying when I said I had plans for lunch,” I decided to say.

“Then tomorrow. Or the day after that. I’ll wait for you, kjære .”

“Don’t call me that.”

My rebuttal left nothing but silence for a moment, and I focused on the activity surrounding us. When one of the workers pulled out a long object from one of the boxes, my eyes widened at the sight. It was right here again—the blade that started it all, the one I sent him back to sever all the ties between us.

“You—you brought back the sword?” I asked, stunned.

I saw him not in the corner of my eye. “Yes. If you are the price to pay for it, I don’t want it.”

My chest, which had been tight with anxiousness this whole time, began to ache. Why did he have to make it so damn hard? Why couldn’t he just move on?

“Tomorrow,” I breathed out, vanquished. “My break starts at noon. Don’t be late.”

“I won’t be.”

【29】Life Finds a Way

The spread of clothes on my bed was ridiculous. But there I was on Monday evening, hours after Ulrik’s ambush, trying to find what I’d wear the next day. I wanted to look good, but not too good. He couldn’t know that I’d cared so much about my attire because it would give him the wrong impression. Vanity demanded that I reminded him of what he’d lost, though. Or was it cruelty?

Ugh, how was this man so good at wreaking havoc in my mind? Why couldn’t I think rationally where he was concerned?

With a defeated sigh, I fell back in the armchair set in a corner and looked at the mess. I shouldn’t have given in so easily. Now, I had a lunch date with the last man I should be near to.

Donald, who’d been of no help throughout this process, jumped on my lap to snuggle. “What would you do if you were me?” I asked him, passing a hand over his orange pelt. He let out a purry meow, looking up at me with his yellow eyes.

Gigi had no idea I’d run into Ulrik today, so I couldn’t even count on her advice. It has felt wiser not to let her know, as she would have added another layer of complications to an already tricky situation. So now, the only help I could get was from one of the four cats roaming in the apartment. And none of their input would be valuable.

“Chocolate,” I decided. “I need chocolate.”

Holding the furball against my chest, I stood from the armchair and made my way to the living area. On the high counter that separated the living room from the kitchen, there was half of a dark chocolate bar—the other half was already in my stomach.

I broke a piece off and engulfed it in my mouth, appreciative of the bitterness that bloomed on my tongue. That always helped, especially when it was 90% chocolate. I was about to break another piece off when the doorbell rang. My eyebrows came together, perplexed. I wasn’t expecting anyone, Gi was well into her evening service, and it was the door right here, not the one downstairs, to enter the building. We did have an elderly neighbor who came by a couple of times per month to ask for sugar and other small things she would run out of.

Mrs. Pembley was who I expected to see as I walked up to the door, dropping Donald on the floor. That was why I didn’t even bother looking into the Judas hole to make sure of it. Alas, it wasn’t her.

No, for the second time today, Ulrik was surprising me by being somewhere I didn’t expect him to be. As a result, my jaw slacked open, my eyes wide with surprise. He was still wearing the same soon as earlier, but the tie was gone, and a few buttons were opened at his throat. In his hand, he held a paper carrier bag. Despite how tired he looked, exhausted, his face was still dashing, still the most alluring one I’d ever encountered.

I was too stunned to speak, completely blindsided by his presence right at my doorstep. When I tried to form words, my tongue failed me. “What a— Why is—”

“Sorry for barging in like this,” he explained, guessing my question. “I brought back the things you left behind, but I couldn’t quite hand them to you back at the museum, so I thought I would…” He didn’t finish, lifting the bag between us instead. “There, Yuko took care of ironing and folding them.”

Without a word, I reached for the bag’s strip. Our fingers only met for a fraction of a second, but it was enough for heat to travel up my arm. I stood there with the bag hooked on my fingers, my arm along my side while my other hand held the door. We remained mute as I awkwardly avoided his gaze, standing there as if we were two strangers with nothing to say to one another.

He was the one breaking the silence with, “Are we still having lunch tomorrow?” Following a short hesitation, I nodded. His shoulders sank with reassurance.

I forced myself to meet his eyes to answer, “It’s alright. Thank you for bringing me back my things.”

More awkward tension ensued, and the tips of my fingers prickled with the need to touch him, to pass them in his slightly askew hair, to smooth the soft fabric at his chest… But I held back because those small gestures weren’t mine to give anymore.

“I’ll leave you be,” he decided after more of those painful seconds had passed. “Sorry for the intrusion.”

It seemed I wasn’t the only one so eager for contact. His hand reaches out but stops before his fingers can graze my forearm as he impulsively meant to.

His small, contrite smile did something to my heart. “See you tomorrow, Mila.”

Just as he was turning around, my mind and body rebelled at the thought. Not so soon. “Wait,” I said, swiftly grabbing his arm.

He stilled immediately, gaze dropping to my hand on him and then to me. “How—how’s Yuko doing?”

“She’s alright, I think. She blamed herself a lot for letting the keys out, but she knows I’m the baka in this situation, not her.”

“I see… And how’s Reggie?”

“I considered bringing him back as well—even got his vaccines and everything in order to travel when I took him on a vet visit last week. But I think Yuko appreciates the company.”

“ You took him to the vet?“

“Yeah, he was walking funny. Turns out it was a splinter he got from scratching the logs by the fireplace.”

I nodded, touched that he had cared for a cat he never even wanted. “Thank you for looking after him like this.”

“Of course. I know it probably reads that way, but I’m not a hater of pets. I merely avoid getting attached to any creature with a lifespan to prevent the ache of grief.”

“Yuko is one of those. And I am, too.”

A sardonic chuckle escaped him. “Well, life finds a way, I suppose.”

I had many questions weighing the tip of my tongue, terribly curious to hear the many, many stories he had to give. Something told me that we could sit for twenty-four hours to talk, and I’d still find more things to ask. All we would have was lunch tomorrow, though, and I already dreaded getting so little.

“Do you—do you want to come in?” I offered before I could even think about it. When a glimmer of hope appeared in his bluest of eyes, I realized my mistake. “This isn’t…me taking a step toward reconciliation, Ulrik. I just want to thank you for bringing back my things and ask you a few questions.”

“I’ll take whatever you’ll give me, love.”

I bet the inside of my cheek to stop myself from asking him to withhold pet names. He was trying hard to be respectful of my feelings and emotions, and I didn’t need to rebuff him at every turn. Instead of seeing something, I stepped to the side and invited him inside with a nod. He didn’t need to be told twice, his broad frame passing the doorway. When the familiar scent of him reached my nostrils, I bit harder to distract myself from it.

The door to my bedroom was still open, so while he removed his jacket by the entrance, I hastily went there, settled the bag inside, and closed it. He didn’t need to know that I had been pondering about tomorrow’s attire.

“And you?” he asked when I returned. “How have you been doing?”

“Alright,” I lied. “Work has been a great distraction, and I’m happy to be back home, where my friends are.”

“Ah, yes… For all the beauty and comfort it offers, the Westergaard estate is a lonely place. You get used to it after a while. Although it didn’t feel lonely while you were there.”

“I never really felt lonely there, not even when you and Yuko were away. How could I, with so many treasures to discover? You can sit on the couch,” I offered as I walked to the kitchen to fetch us something to drink.

He complied, and I kept glimpsing back at him while I opened the cupboards to find something—anything. “Is red okay?” I asked, pulling out a bottle.

“Yes, of course.”

While I busied myself with the bottle opener, the cats came to greet him. “Isn’t one of them missing?” he wondered, petting Mad Max’s head.

“Yeah, Slim Shady was adopted while I was away. And someone’s interested in the one you’re petting, so it’ll be down to just two soon.”

“That is until another cat makes its way into your life,” he noted with humor.

“Right.”

As I came back with two wine glasses and the bottle, I almost regretted not using the plastic cups. It would have made this feel less…romantic. It was too late to back out, though, so I settled them on the table and poured the crimson liquid into them. With a glass in my hand, I sat on the armchair facing him while he bent to pick up his.

Silence stretched for a moment, and Simone distracted me from it by jumping on my lap.

“So, you had questions?” Ulrik asked after taking a sip.

“I don’t even know where to start.”

“You may ask whatever comes to mind. I’ll try to be as transparent as I can. My memories can be a little…foggy.”

That made sense. I could barely remember what I ate yesterday, so going back as far as a thousand years ought to be a challenge. I thought about it, trying to find something relatively easy for him to answer, something he’d remember. “Who would you say is the biggest historical figure you ever met?”

It was his turn to ponder, and I almost wished I could be in his head. Many people went through his mind, and I wish I knew the names that made the corner of his lips twitch with contained amusement.

“Not the biggest one in my eye, but I did meet Abraham Lincoln when he was president,” he casually dropped. My eyebrows shot up, but it didn’t stop him from continuing. “I met Elizabeth Tudor, was even part of her inner counsel for a decade… I attended the lavish parties the Sun King threw in Versailles, and I was there when the French people rose to arms, and his descendent was beheaded. I briefly encountered Genghis Khan during my travels. And I was close to Michelangelo for a while as well.”

He was dropping these names as I would recount my old friends at uni, and I didn’t know what to do other than stare in shock. I was almost star-struck hearing him talk. I asked the first thing that came to mind. “How was Queen Elizabeth?”

“Resilient. One of the most strong-willed people I’ve ever encountered. Heavy is the head that bears the crown, and hers was the heaviest. She controlled every minute detail of her life, never letting her guard down. And although she was never alone, she was always lonely. I think she appreciated me because I was more knowledgeable than all of their advisors combined.”

“Did she know about your…longevity?”

He shook his head. “No, only very few people know. I never stayed in the same spot more than twenty years, and halfway through it, I would grow a beard, which helped mask the fact that I didn’t age.”

“It must have been hard to never truly settle.”

A dismissive shrug lifted his shoulders. “It’s not like I have a choice. And in all honesty, it was easy back then. A new name, a new place, and I could start over. As a white man with money, it was never a challenge. And once enough time had passed, I could return and nobody knew who I was again. This internet thing, though… It’s made everything a lot more complicated.”

“Oh, right… The internet is forever… Is it why you live as secluded as you do?”

“It is. I don’t allow my picture to be taken when I can prevent it, but I also have a contingency plan in motion at all times.”

“What is it?”

“I have a couple of hackers scanning the web for my likeness, and they whack down any pictures of me that may appear there.

“That’s…thorough.”

“Can’t be too safe. I don’t want to learn what happens when the world realizes there are people like me out there.”

“Are there more demigods?”

“Of course. The Greek ones were real, although I never got to meet one of them.”

“Really? Don’t you guys have a safe space or something where you can hang out with Jesus and Hercules?”

He chuckled at my joke, and it was real this time because it reached all the way to his eyes. “Demigods aren’t eternal. From my experience, they tend to live four, maybe five hundred years.”

“Why are you that old, then?”

“You really want to know?” he insisted. I nodded, bending forward to grab the bottle and refill my glass. “Alright, then. Here’s the story of how I came to be.”

【30】Put a Spell on You

While Ulrik took a second to figure out where to start his story, I settled on the armchair more comfortably, crossing my legs and leaning back. He finished the little that was left in his glass and poured himself another one.

“As you well know, life in Norway was hard—there’s a reason why we were so adamant about emigrating to the British Isles. My mother was a nobody, the daughter of a shepherd. She had nothing to offer but her beauty. Luckily for her, she had enough of it to attract the eye of a mysterious traveler, who came across her as she was guarding her father’s sheep. He was thirsty, so she gave him the little she had left. And he was hungry, so she gave him the slice of bread that was meant to sustain her that day.

“It didn’t matter if he was a king among gods; she touched his heart in a way no one had in ages. Her selfless generosity was all it took for the man to become smitten with her. He had traveled through the world of men many times, and none of the mortals had treated him with such kindness. But this young woman, who had nothing but the dress on her back, had given him everything.

“When he returned the following day, he had a loaf of fresh bread, dry meat, a piece of cheese, and a flask of mead. They shared, although he let her have most of it, and it was all it took for her to return his infatuation. Before the month ended, they were married. It didn’t matter back then that she’d only seen sixteen summers while he looked like he’d known well over forty of them. This would mean one less mouth to feed for her parents, so they happily gave her away.

“He built her a house on a hill with his own two hands. Odin kept his true nature a secret, probably because this was an amusing distraction to him. I think that pretending to be a mortal like her brought him a sense of mortality. It made things fleetingly temporary, and it gave him a thrill he’d never known. I can sympathize with the sentiment.”

He paused, and I remained silent, clinging to his words with all my attention. After a long sip of his wine and a deep breath, he continued.

“Then I was born, barely a year into their marriage, and blissful years followed. From my understanding, they were happy. Truly happy. My father brought back game to feed us, Mother had a garden that produced a generous amount of vegetables, and the three goats my grandfather gifted as a dowry wedding gave us the milk we might need. When I was around seven, though, my father’s deceptions caught up with him.

“Frigg had grown tired of her husband’s absence. She sent her Valkyries to look for him in the eight worlds. And one of them found him—found us. So, Frigg came to Midgard to reclaim her husband. But she didn’t know he’d built a family there. She had no idea that for the past eight years, he’d been playing house with a mortal woman. She became feral when she learned. My father already had bastards like me, so I wasn’t the source of her offense. No, she couldn’t tolerate that he’d married another woman. It was an insult to Frigg’s image, to her role as the Goddess of Marriage.

“In a moment of pure rage, she killed my mother. It unfolded right before my eyes, and Odin did nothing. Losing his mortal wife wasn’t worth angering the goddess. Then he followed her back to Asgard, abandoning me to an empty house and my mother’s cadaver. I buried her in a shallow grave marked by the biggest stone I could lift at that age. Then I waited. I waited for my father to return. But he never did. Weeks passed. Months. The food ran out, and I had to kill one of the goats to survive just a little longer. I considered leaving and heading to my grandfather’s farm, but I didn’t know the three-day journey well enough.

“Eventually, I accepted the fact that I would die like this, an orphan abandoned by his own father. But Frigg eventually came back. She returned one afternoon, accompanied by a witch that served her.”

“A witch?” I echoed, interrupting him for the first time. “A witch-witch?”

“Yes, those exist as well. Not the flying-on-a-broom kind, but there are some women, versed in the art of the occult, who can cast spells and curses.”

“And why did Frigg come back with one?”

“Because she needed something done on me.”

“She put a spell on you?” He nodded and gave me a few seconds to process it and figure out what he meant. When I did, my eyebrows came together. “Immortality?”

“Exactly. She refused to see me in Valhalla, but she couldn’t get Freyja to promise she wouldn’t let me in. So Frigg did the next thing she could think of, and she ensured I would never die in the first place.”

“That…one way to do it, I suppose,” I mumbled.

Old Norse deities, much like most mythologies, were deeply flawed individuals. That Odin’s wife would do such a thing to a child out of pure spite wasn’t exactly surprising, but it was still a lot. She was, after all, the Goddess of Marriage and Motherhood, but her husband’s betrayal had pushed her to her limits.

“Remember that old tattoo I have on my shoulder?” Ulrik asked, gesturing at the spot on him. “The one that’s slightly bumpy and irregular.” I nodded, envisioning exactly which one he meant. “That’s the curse’s seal. She burned it on me with her magic, and it’s what prevents me from dying. Then, Frigg got me to a small settlement, probably her motherly instinct kicking in, and she returned to her world.”

It was surreal to be talking about all this, and I half expected a camera crew to pop out of nowhere while the host told me I’d been punked. It would make more sense than accepting that witches, spells, and gods were real. But Ulrik looked mighty serious as he recounted all of that to me, so I decided to part from my beliefs and common sense to trust him—for now, at least.

“And how efficient is this spell?”

“Flawless. I’ve tried to die numerous times because of the loneliness of this existence. I’m banned from walking the land of the gods and cursed to live among mortals. Watching everyone die while I went through time untouched was hard. I was fine with it for a few centuries, but then it became unbearable.”

“Does it still feel that way?”

He shrugged. “If given the opportunity, I would welcome death with open arms, like an old friend. I have seen enough, and I’m ready to end it. But I’ve grown accustomed to my situation. I’ve learned to preserve myself by keeping some distance from the world. I do what I can from the shadows, as it’s not my style to stay idle. Also, it helps pass the time, and that’s all I could ask for.”

I make the wine twirl in my glass and stare at it. I can’t look at him for the question I want to ask next. “You said you’ve…tried to die. What exactly do you mean?”

“Well, I was never cautious with my life, if I’m being honest. I was a real Berserker, charging into battle with nothing but breeches and a weapon. I can be cut, I can bleed, And I’ve even broken a few bones when I’ve tried hard enough. But it all heals in seconds—minutes for the bigger ones—and nothing can stop the healing. I’ve drowned, starved, been poisoned, choked, crashed in a plane, been burned at the stake…”

“Wait, I remember you joking about a plane crash when you flew us to Oslo.”

“That one was true. Like I told you, I didn’t lie about everything .”

I scrunched my nose in disapproval, not sure if I’d categorize this one as being honest. He’d tried to be as transparent as he could, though. “What about your wife?” I wondered.

“She really existed. And I told you it was a long time ago, but you probably didn’t realize it’s been over a millennium since she died.”

“Of course I didn’t…” I replied with a roll of my eyes and a crooked grin I couldn’t hold back.

He smiled in a soft, tender way. “That life feels so distant that it feels like a dream I can’t quite recall. I don’t even remember what she looked like, aside from the raven hair and the freckles. We were together for nearly forty years before she got ill. We had three children together: Mardǫll, our eldest girl, Hámundr, our son, and Eyja.”

“Those are beautiful names. Have you had many children throughout the centuries?”

“As a man, it’s hard to say how many. I tried not to, but I also didn’t deprive myself of the pleasures of the flesh.”

“I suppose it was bound to happen now and then. Especially when contraception wasn’t a thing.”

“Even some modern contraception methods don’t work for me. Copper IUDs are useless against my sperm. And having a vasectomy serves no purpose, as everything would heal before the doctor has time to stitch me up.”

“Ah, that makes sense. Godly genes and all… You said your father offered you the swords. Did he come back into your life, then?”

“I was in my twenties when he did. He tried to apologize, but I refused to hear him. He’d let me starve without the ability to die. He’d let me bury my own mother like we meant nothing to him. He gave me the swords and went on his way. I haven’t seen him since that day.”

“Really? You never came across him again?”

Ulrik shook his head before taking a sip of his wine. “He rarely ever comes to Midgard, and we don’t frequent the same circles.”

“Like that club we went to?”

This time, he nodded. “The club is an actual doorway between their world and ours. That golden door in the back is the path. The gods were gold bands, lesser deities like me wear silver, and creatures like Valkyries, Elves, dwarves…they wear bronze.”

“What of the black bracelets?”

“That’s for our oblivious human guests, which are remarkably rare. The red ones know about the kind of crows that populated the Bifrost.”

“It was bold of you to take me there, now that I’m thinking about it.”

“There’s a system in place, and I decided to trust it. And things weren’t supposed to take as long as they did with Tyr. I expected us to have a couple of drinks together, then I would have handled my affairs in ten, fifteen minutes, and then we would have danced.”

“I would have liked that.”

“I know.”

We exchanged a long, charged look, and just like that, I felt the pull of his magnetic aura. Things were going remarkably smoothly, which wasn’t something I’d expected. My guard was slowly lowering, and I wasn’t sure it was a good thing. I loved hearing all of that, completely entranced by his stories as much as his voice. I’d always known that he was the most interesting man I’d ever met, but this? This went much beyond being interesting. This was unique, extraordinary.

I shook myself out of his effortless pull and refilled my glass. “Tell me more about how you met Yuko,” I suggested, although it probably sounded more like an order.

For the following hours, he told me about the incredible lives he’d led throughout the centuries. He’d been the captain of a pirate ship, an emissary in barely explored parts of the world, a university teacher, a physician… He explained how he’d moved to Japan following the A-bombs. He’d gone there to help, knowing the radiations wouldn’t kill him but hoping they eventually might. He’d fallen in love with the country, its traditions, landscapes, cuisine, and people. That was why he was still there two decades later when he met fourteen-year-old Yuko, who needed his assistance.

Mesmerized, I listened as he told me about his experience in watching humans evolve into the technological beings we’d become. “Airplanes changed everything, but not necessarily in a good way where I’m concerned,” he sourly explained.

“How so?”

“For someone like me, instant gratification is the death of true contentment. It used to take two hundred and fifty days to travel from England to Australia. And once you got there…there was this sense of excitement, of a thrilling adventure you’d earned the hard way, a whole new world to explore. Now, I can be there in less than a day, and there’s no challenge in that, no need for patience and resilience. But that has become true for many aspects of life. Music was a scarce pleasure; one had to earn it by watching it live and discovering it through dedication. Now, I can have everything I want on my phone with a few presses of my thumb.”

“Do you think we evolved for the worse, then?”

“No, I think this world is better, as it is wide open, and every single part of it is available to be explored and enjoyed. But to me, it has made it all very…dull. Too accessible, too easily explored. I haven’t encountered a challenge in a long time, and those used to give me a sense of the unknown, of the unattainable.”

“I suppose I can understand how it makes things dull after some time,” I conceded, leaning forward to pick up the bottle. It was empty, which made me realize just how long we’d been talking.

But I wasn’t done asking questions yet, so I considered getting the second bottle from the cupboard. Ulrik surely wouldn’t mind if I offered to open another one, as he wanted nothing more but to keep entertaining me. Was it a good idea, though? I could already feel my head spinning lightly since half a bottle of wine was a lot for the little chocolate I’d eaten earlier. The alcohol was going straight to my head, and I knew all too well what mood it usually put me in—horny. And I didn’t need that with him around.

Before I could come up with an alternative, though, a recognizable sound came from the entrance. Someone had just put a key in and was about to unlock the door. Panic flooded me at once. I knew exactly who it was.

Had we been sitting there for so long? How was Gigi already coming back from her night shift? And wasn’t she supposed to stay at Vick’s tonight?

My eyes darted to Ulrik, who’d heard it as well but didn’t seem to realize the clusterfuck that was about to unfold.

What the hell was I supposed to do now?!

【31】Slowly Realizing That

My slightly tipsy mind wasn’t in the right state to think efficiently and clearly. But I knew one thing for sure: If Gigi found Ulrik in here with me, I’d have a lot of explaining to do.

But I didn’t even know what I was doing, why I’d invited him inside, why we’d been drinking and talking for hours… What would I tell her? How would I make her understand the complex situation?

“Bedroom,” I swiftly commanded, pointing at my door. “Get in there and don’t make a sound!”

“What—”

The main door was officially opened now, and I heard Gi and Vick’s voices as they stepped in.

“Go, now!” I vehemently mouthed.

“Why?” he asked in the same way.

“Because!”

Positively confused, he finally reacted to my urgency and extracted his tall and broad body from the couch. Thinking fast, I grabbed his empty glass and handed it to him while pushing him toward my bedroom. We managed to make it there silently, and I swung the door open, shoved him in there, and closed it again.

Thank fuck the others took their time removing their coats because I spotted Ulrik’s jacket folded across a chair. I grabbed it, returned to my door, threw it in on a bewildered Ulrik, and closed it right as the newcomers arrived in the shared space.

“Oh, hey,” I greeted them, plastering a smile on my lips.

Vick carried three pizza boxes, and the smell of them quickly reached my nostrils. Holding them with one hand, they waved at me with a smile.

“Hi!” Gigi greeted me. “You told me you were tired, so I wasn’t sure you’d be up. But we got you your favorite, just in case,” she explained, pointing at the boxes.

“I was, yeah… But then I opened a bottle of wine and decided to finish it,” I lied, gesturing at my glass and the empty bottle on the table.

“Ah, nice. Some much-deserved self-care.”

“Exactly.” After a brief pause, I did my best to sound unfazed as I asked, “Weren’t you supposed to stay at Vick’s tonight?”

“We were, but then they confessed they’d never seen a single Monty Python movie. Not one, Mila! Can you believe it?”

I was honestly too preoccupied by Ulrik in my room, ten feet away from us, to match the level of indignation she was hoping for. But I still replied with, “That’s unacceptable.”

“Right?! That’s why we came back here,” she explained, walking up to the shelf where we had a few DVDs. She took out all four Monty Python movies we owned and brandished them with pride. “We were going to do chronological order, but we can start with Holy Grail if you want. I know it’s your fave.”

“Uh… Are you going to watch them all right now?”

“Yeah, neither of us works until tomorrow evening, so we can pull an all-nighter. But don’t worry, we’ll keep the volume down once you’re off to bed.”

Crap… That meant they’d be staying right here on the couch, right next to my door, for literal hours. There was no way I’d be able to sneak Ulrik out. “I think I’ll just grab my pizza and go to bed,” I decided.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Vick looked for mine on the pile and handed it to me. “Gi told me you were going through a rough breakup,” they sympathetically said. “Let us know if you want company, right? It’s not good to stay alone in times like this. It only makes the loneliness feel worse.”

Well, in this specific case, I wouldn’t be alone since the very reason for my heartbreak was in my room, probably listening and not missing a single thing. “I’ll be fine, thank you,” I replied with a tense smile, taking the pizza they were handing me.

“Thanks for the pizza, and enjoy your movies,” I said. Then, I walked up to my door, waited for them to be distracted, and made my way in.

Ulrik’s tall silhouette was standing there in the dark, perfectly still. I flicked the lights on, and the stunning details of his face revealed themselves to me. Outside, Gi and Vick were having a lively conversation, which was why he felt free to whisper, “What are we supposed to do now?”

I settled the pizza box on a chest of drawers and embarrassingly gathered my spread clothes on the covers of my bed to shove them into my wardrobe. “I don’t know,” I answered in the same manner. “They’ll be at it for hours.”

There were only two doors in my room, one of which led to them and the other to the shared bathroom. But even Gigi’s room wasn’t a possible escape because she also came in and out from the living area. My attention latched on the only option left, however ludicrous it might sound.

“You could jump out of the window,” I suggested.

His eyebrow quirked up, unconvinced. “This is the fourth floor.”

“It’s not like it would kill you. It’d hurt a bit, but then you’d heal, right?”

“Believe it or not, but I don’t particularly like the sensation of bones shattering and joints dislocating.” He still looked dubious as he walked to the window and stared down at the streets below. “There are probably cameras that would catch the fall. Also, I like this suit and would rather not tear it or cover it in blood.”

I pinched my lips but didn’t insist, aware that my idea had been rather unhinged. “Then I don’t know,” I mumbled.

My gaze remained on him as he walked up to the pizza box. With a lift of his index, he opened it to gaze at the delicious pie in it. “At least we won’t starve.”

The crooked grin he gave me managed to soothe some of the tension. “I suppose the situation could always be worse, yeah,” I agreed.

I singled out a piece for myself, tearing it from the pie, which led to strings of cheese stretching in a mouth-watering manner. Before anything could slide off, I brought it to my mouth, tongue out as I lifted the pizza up and bit a chunk out of it. Ulrik grinned, shook his head, and chose a slice for himself. We ate in silence, standing by the box. This was weird, but I didn’t feel as awkward as I should have.

“Do you remember the first time you had pizza?” I wondered.

He tilted his head from side to side, conflicted. “Pizza was a slow evolution from another form of dish. I’d eaten things similar before that, so I wasn’t exactly mind-blown. I wouldn’t be able to tell you at which point the garnished flatbread they used to make officially became pizza.”

“Ah, that makes sense… Pizza is my favorite thing to eat, so I would have loved to witness that evolution.” I took another slice, and so did he.

We could hear the movie playing outside, its familiar lines making me smile whenever I caught them. We could also hear Gi and Vick laughing and talking from the couch. That should be enough noise pollution to keep our hushed voices a secret.

“Do you think food is better now than it was then?” I wondered.

“It’s complicated. We have a greater variety of ingredients, spices, methods of cooking… The Americas, for instance, gave us potatoes, corn, tomatoes, squash…and they all inherently changed Europe’s cuisine. Overall, I would say that the dishes themselves are better for it, but the quality of ingredients was better before. No pesticides, no chemical fertilizers, no GMOs…You can find that much quality today, but you need to have the means to pay for it. I think that’s why I love Japanese cuisine so much. There’s a great emphasis on the quality of the ingredients and honoring it.”

I asked him more of these silly questions as we finished the pie, and he indulged me the whole time, answering with patience. We, mostly I, were beating around the bush, talking about insignificant things rather than addressing the elephant in the room.

What of us?

Clearly, our easygoing chemistry was still there, and the fact that he was in the armchair in my room while I faced him on the bed made it all undeniable. We were engrossed in our conversation, and I had to stifle my laugh on more than one occasion.

What played in his favor the most was that he never used this moment to plead his case. I’d expected our encounter to have a lot more bargaining, given how things had ended in Trondheim, but there was none of that. He was simply there, satiating my curiosity without putting any pressure on me. It was welcomed, but it also made it hard not to throw him out. Things would have been so much simpler if he’d been less cordial and mindful of my wishes and needs.

Once the pizza was over and when I began yawning every other minute, he stood up and walked up to the window to observe what was outside. “Maybe I can leap and reach your neighbor’s balcony. From there, climbing down the gutter shouldn’t be too perilous. And like you said, I wouldn’t die if I fell,” he added with a playful side glance.

“It would ruin your suit.”

“I can purchase another one. Haven’t been to Milan in a while, so it would give me an excuse.”

He opened the sash window and leaned outside to assess his odds. “I think I could make it,” he insisted.

Although I was touched that he tried so hard to give me some space, I didn’t need it that much. With a tender gesture, I grabbed his hand. I ignored the small spark that traveled up my arm and pulled so he’d straight up back into the room. Still holding his hand, I met his questioning eyes. “You don’t have to do that, Ulrik. You can stay the night.”

His eyebrows twitched, mind racing with thoughts, and I grazed the soft skin of his powerful hand with my thumb. “You’re staying in a platonic way,” I specified. “And tomorrow, I’ll sneak you out while they’re sleeping in. Then, for lunch, we’ll talk about how we’ll move forward, you and I. How we can make something work.”

My words rendered him speechless for several seconds. He stared at me with a befuddled expression, hope making his blue eyes sparkle. “Are you sure?” he murmured.

“No, but I can’t deny there’s something there.” I gave his hand a slight squeeze, which he returned. “I’m not comfortable with what you are, and I might never be okay with it. But maybe I can get used to it, somehow?”

He gave me a small, encouraging smile. “I’m the same person you met, Mila. I never lied about the way I am at my core.”

“I’m slowly realizing that, yes.”

Silence settled between us once more, and I glimpsed down at our joined hands. After one last squeeze, I released him. “I have a couple of oversized T-shirts that might fit you,” I explained on my way to my wardrobe. “The bathroom’s here, but I’ll have to go first and lock the door on Gigi’s side, just in case. I think we have a spare toothbrush somewhere.”

I paused, realizing something. “Do you even get cavities?”

He shook his head, flashing me his perfectly white teeth with a dashing grin. “No, but it’s not a reason to forego personal hygiene.”

“Good answer,” I said with a nod.

It took us a few minutes, during which I went to the bathroom first, and then he did. I was waiting in my room for him to finish, dressed in a pajama I never usually bothered to wear. My queen-sized bed had never felt smaller than it did as I glanced at it. With his broad build, there would barely be any room for us on it. This couldn’t turn into a snuggling situation, though, so we’d have to make it work.

My entire body tensed when I heard the door opening. It was officially too late to let him have a go at the neighbor’s balcony. He looked as uneasy as I felt when he stepped out, and I didn’t even try to prevent my gaze from taking up and down his body. The shirt wasn’t a tight fit, but it stretched across his powerful chest and broad shoulders, and it didn’t go low enough to hide his black boxer briefs and the bulge underneath.

God, we weren’t even in bed, but I already wanted to undress him.

“Same sides?” he asked, gesturing at the bed. The mere mention of those few nights we’d spent together was enough to send a wave of heat through my body.

“Yeah, sure.”

The awkwardness of the moment was palpable, but we fought through it as we slipped under the covers. I switched off the light on my nightstand, and our eyes slowly got accustomed to the glow of the street that seeped through my thin curtains. We both stared at the ceiling, unsure what to say to diffuse the tension. We might not have been touching, but I could feel his heat under the duvet, taunting me to reach out and touch him.

“Do you think we could make it work?” I whispered, almost hoping he wouldn’t hear me. He turned his face toward me, and I felt compelled to do the same.

“I do, yes,” he answered with sincerity.

“What if I want children?”

There was a pause before he asked, “Do you?”

“I’m not sure yet, but I think so. Would that be a deal breaker for you?”

“Not necessarily. I’m not entirely opposed to having children again, but more importantly, I want you to have a full life and experience every single part of it. And I want to be there with you, by your side every step of the way. If motherhood is part of it, then I won’t prevent that for you.”

“I appreciate that, thank you.” I rolled to the side to face him better, and he mirrored the position. “You said you stayed forty years with your wife?”

“A little over that, yes.”

“And didn’t you mind that she aged and you never did?”

His hand came out from under the covers, and with the pads of his thumb, he grazed the corner of my eye, where wrinkles would eventually settle with time.

“I won’t lie and say that I’m not drawn to beauty because you, for instance, caught my eye like rarely before. But to me, beauty doesn’t fade with age. You’re beautiful now, and I will find you beautiful in fifty years—I have no doubt about that. The only part that I dislike is the reminder of how ephemeral life can be. Watching loved ones age is like a spectacle and a curse.”

His thumb continued its soft touches on my face, and I allowed it, entranced by the simple gesture. Things had always been so easy with him but also so damn complicated. It was as though we were meant to be, but obstacles kept arising.

“When were you going to tell me?” I murmured.

Instantly, he knew what I meant, and guilt claimed his handsome features. “I don’t know. I haven’t told anyone in decades because I have learned it’s nearly impossible to anticipate how someone will react to the truth. I had no idea how you would, and I wanted to wait until I knew you better.”

“There was no right way to break it to me, was there?”

“I’m not sure there would have been one, no…”

We basked in this truth for a moment, letting it sink. My heart was always going to break, no matter what. But I’d underestimated his ability to mend it back into its original shape. Here he was, lying in my bed, making me feel so complete and relaxed that my chest was swollen with contentment.

“I missed you,” I whispered, grazing the side of his face with a soft hand. His jaw was slightly prickly, the hair there growing since his morning shave.

“I missed you too, elskling .”

“Next time you break my heart, though, I’ll rip your balls out. I don’t care if they’ll grow back or something.”

He twisted his head under my hand to give my palm a tender kiss. “You know all that matters now, and I’ll be honest with everything else that you don’t. I’m sorry it had to be that way, Mila. I truly am.”

“I know…”

A yawn took over again, and I removed my hand from his cheek to cover my mouth.

“We should sleep,” he suggested.

I nodded, looking at him one last time before closing my eyes. “Good night…hmm…I never asked if you preferred being called Ulrik or Haakon,” I realized.

“I’ve been Ulrik for the past ten years, so I’m familiar with it. And I was Haakon for centuries, but I haven’t used that name in a while. It’s as you prefer, sweetheart.”

“Then you’ll be Ulrik until I’m more familiar with that other side of you,” I decided. “Good night, Ulrik.”

“Good night, Mila.”

He could probably tell that I had the faintest smile stretching the corners of my lips as I fell asleep, but I didn’t mind. I still didn’t like the deception, but I understood it more and more. I’d have to be stupid to keep him at bay, considering he was a living encyclopedia. But more importantly, he made me feel relaxed and comfortable, and being around him made my heart flutter while butterflies swarmed in my core.

Even with everything that had happened, I was still in love with this man.

【32】The Coast is clear

The warmth that enveloped me was comforting and familiar, and even as I slowly awoke, I knew it meant something. Something important. This was the heat of a body, board and muscular, plastered against mine.

As more and more of my senses returned to me, I could also perceive the rhythmic breathing of that body’s owner and feel the arm wrapped around me.

Ulrik… He was in my bed, where I’d invited him the night before.

My eyes opened at once, anxiety twisting my guts. Now that the wine was gone from my bloodstream, now that I’d slept on it, I questioned my decision to let him into my life again. It was so soon and so fast that it might have been a mistake.

But as soon as my gaze landed on his sleeping face, my worries and doubts faded away. In this moment of slumberous abandon, he looked terribly vulnerable, so human. It was hard to believe that the man against me was immortal and had gone through the centuries with this exact face. Unmoving, I observed the finer details of him, discovering them in a new light. Had women five hundred years ago found him just as dashing as I did now? How many people over his long life had been graced with his favors? That tempting and skillful mouth of his, how many women had it pleased?

As I admired the relaxed curves of his lips, my own began to prickle. It wouldn’t take much for me to kiss him, just a stretch of my neck. I’d missed kissing him, missed this sense of ownership that washed over me every time we were being intimate. I realized now how stupid it was because this man had belonged to so many more people than I could fathom. But still, if I wanted him to be mine now, he would gladly agree to it.

I was serious when I said we would find a way to make this work. Even if this didn’t lead to more than a few years together, I’d have to be completely mad to pass on it—on him. But to do things right, we’d have to go slow. I wasn’t relapsing into some carnal relationship riddled with lies and secrets.

The urge to kiss him kept growing stronger, and it felt like my lips were charged with static electricity. Just a small peck to give in to my impulse. He was fast asleep; he didn’t need to know about it.

With my hand over his chest, I adjusted myself to press a soft, discreet kiss on his relaxed lips. My stirring was too much, though, and his eyelids fluttered open. I stayed unmoving, in a slightly forward position. His unfocused gaze took in his unfamiliar surroundings at first before landing on me. The way his eyes lit up told me everything I needed to know.

This man adored me beyond words.

“Hey,” he rasped.

My lips still tingled with the need to kiss him, but now that he was awake, I couldn’t indulge anymore. “Hi,” I whispered back.

His arm around me tightened as he greedily brought me closer. Only an inch separated us from a kiss now, and it became incredibly hard to resist. “You should go,” I murmured. The longer he stayed, the higher my chances to crack.

“I should.” His breath fanned across my lips.

That tingle wouldn’t go away, and my entire body was slowly becoming incandescent. “I have to start getting ready,” I said next, pushing against him.

He didn’t give me an inch, his blue eyes still hazy from his slumber. “Are we still on for lunch?”

I nodded. Our mouths were so close that they nearly connected, missing each other by barely anything.

“Then I’ll go, knowing I’ll be seeing you in a few hours.”

His hold on me loosened, but neither of us moved. There was something in the air, some electricity, that compelled us to do something about all that tension between us. But I wanted to stay strong, to prove to myself that I was better than my needs and desires. And if I was right, he wanted me to make the first move, to let me lead the pace. It didn’t matter how much he desired to kiss me—which I could read in his ravenous gaze—he would hold back until I was ready until I gave him the green light.

Ignoring the tingling of my lips, I pushed myself away from his warmth. “Come on, Norseman.”

The air in my room was cold, and the shorts and tank top I was wearing weren’t enough to keep me warm past the soft comfort of my duvet. Goosebumps erupted on my skin as I made my way to the bathroom, and they had nothing to do with his eyes that I could feel on me, following my every move. After a stop on the toilet and a pep talk in the mirror, I returned to my room and found him halfway dressed already. His slacks were on, and his shirt was opened over his chest.

“You said you get off at noon, right?” he asked.

I was so absorbed by the sight of his perfect torso that I took a couple of seconds to answer. “Yes, I have an hour starting from noon.”

“Then I’ll make sure to be on time.”

I wasn’t very effective, too busy observing him. There was something enticing about his precise gestures, and looking at him doing something as simple as getting dressed brought some questions. He’s worn those period outfits I’d seen on the paintings in his secret room. Imagining him wearing Renaissance clothing, funny britches and all, brought a smile to my lips.

“What?” he asked, noticing my amusement.

“Nothing… I was just thinking of the fashion eras you’ve been through.”

“Ah… Well, today’s simplicity has made things much easier. No need for a valet to help me out anymore.”

I knew he wasn’t bragging, but it still sounded like that, so I shook my head with an eye roll. My grin betrayed my enjoyment of it, though.

Once he was fully dressed and ready to go, I carefully opened my door and scouted the common space. As I’d suspected, Gigi and Vick were still asleep and would probably be for another few hours.

“The coast is clear,” I told Ulrik. I accompanied him to the door, and once he was out in the building’s hallway, we faced one another, unsure how to part.

He was the one who broke the silent tension first. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For not making me jump out the window.”

I chuckled. “This suit looks too good on you to risk it.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, Miss Connelly.”

We both longed for something, for more, but neither of us knew how to make it happen. Again, he was the first one to act on it, taking my hand from the door frame and bringing it to his lips so that he could lay a soft kiss on its back. The chivalrous gesture had a shiver running up my arm.

“See you in a few hours, darling.” There was a promise in his eyes, a certainty.

A nod was the only response I could manage, and after one last graze for my hand, he released me. I stood in the doorway, watching Ulrik leave with a mix of conflicting emotions. The morning air felt crisp as the door closed behind him, leaving me alone with the remnants of our shared warmth. The tingling sensation on my lips lingered, a silent reminder of the temptation I had managed to resist—for now.

Shaking off the feeling, I turned back to my room and focused on getting ready for the day ahead. As I distractedly got prepared for work, my thoughts were a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. I didn’t care so much if he realized I was wearing something alluring on purpose, so I picked an outfit that I knew would work for him. The black knife pleated skirt was admittedly too short for work settings, but with the nearly opaque dark tights underneath, it would be alright. And with the pair of heels that I dug out of my closet, it gave me legs for days, and driving Ulrik mad with it was worth it. To make sure this part would steal the show, I picked a woolen turtle neck for my top, black like the rest of my outfit.

After some accessorizing with golden jewelry, and after one last look at myself in the mirror, I grabbed my coat, bag, and left for work. Even as I navigated the subway on my way to the museum, his image occupied my mind, my mind replaying the evening’s intimacy and the morning’s reluctant parting.

The longing for his lips lingered, persistent and unyielding.

Arriving at the museum, I tried to immerse myself in the exhibit, but the vivid memories of our shared night overshadowed my focus. Still, I accomplished a great deal of work and sent a new series of texts that I needed the graphic team to work on. With Ulrik’s pieces, my exhibit was back on track, and I would soon have a few people working along with me to help finalize everything.

But Ulrik stayed in a corner of my mind, his face, the warmth of his body against mine, haunting me. Noon approached, and I began to check on the time every other minute, eagerly waiting for his message that he’d arrived. But when the clock struck twelve, there was still nothing.

The slight twinge it ignited in my heart was a bad sign, wasn’t it?

Impatient and in need of an explanation from him, I grabbed my phone and sent him a text.

You wouldn’t happen to be late, would you?

I settled the phone down and stared at my computer’s screen instead, doing my best not to let my mind take me back to dark thoughts.

I’ll have you know I was ten minutes early, love, but your boss saw me arrive and pulled me in to talk to me about the upcoming gala. I’ve been trying to get free ever since, but the man is determined.

Oh… The Christmas Gala that the museum hosted every year was a big, lavish affair, where Mullins usually got a massive portion of our yearly funding. With Ulrik being our biggest benefactor, it made sense that my boss would want him on board.

On my way to free you

, I sent.

Determined to be reunited, I grabbed my things and left the shared office. I made my way to the director’s office, my heart racing in anticipation. Not kissing him this morning had been my mistake and my salvation. On one hand, I’d obsessed with it the whole morning. On the other, there was a chance that we would have engaged in a lot more than kissing.

Mr. Mullins’ assistant gave me a smile as I passed by her, and I knocked on the door before opening it right away. The chatter inside came to a stop when I appeared through the partially opened door.

“Miss Connelly, do get in!” the director insisted.

I complied, doing my best to look unfazed by Ulrik’s effortless allure. It was particularly hard, given how he devoured me with his blue gaze, visibly enchanted by my mini skirt. He, himself, looked dashing, wearing a light gray suit with a waistcoat underneath his perfectly tailored jacket. The old-school vibe of it made him look like he came from a different time, and I rather liked it.

“Miss Connelly,” he greeted me with a nod. Mullins couldn’t see the small, knowing grin he offered me, and it brought a smile to my own lips.

“Mr. Westergaard… Are you ready for our lunch?”

“Oh, right!” Mullins suddenly remembered. “You’re meant to take Mr. Westergaard out for lunch to thank him for his great generosity.”

“I am, yes. My lunch break started five minutes ago, so we ought to get a move on.”

Mullins waved a dismissive hand. “Nonsense, Jamila. Mr. Westergaard’s generosity knows no bounds, and so shall your lunch.”

I didn’t protest, but it was good to know that Ulrik and I wouldn’t be constricted to only an hour. “Shall we?” my inconspicuous date offered.

“We shall.”

I stood by the door while Ulrik said his goodbye to Mullins, promising he’d be there with his checkbook for the gala. Then, he grabbed his long woolen coat on the rack next to me, and we exited the office.

Somehow, he managed to give my lower back a tender graze in an inconspicuous way that neither Mullins nor his assistant could see. It was enough to send a brief shiver up my spine, though, and the itch returned to my lips.

Crap, I wouldn’t be able to last a whole lunch without kissing him, would I? Hell, I wasn’t even sure we’d make it out of this museum without breaking under the immense tension. As we walked down a hallway towards the exit, I spotted the small maintenance closet he’d pulled me in all those weeks ago. The one where he’d broken my heart by choosing the sword over me.

Before I knew what I was doing, I checked to make sure there was no one in the hallway with us, grabbed him by the arm with one hand, and opened the closet door with the other.

“Mila, what are—”

His surprise wasn’t enough to knock some sense into my mind, and I unceremoniously shoved him into the closet. The automatic lights blinked on as I closed the door behind us, and before he could do or say anything, I grabbed his face and pulled him down.

【33】Ability to Seduce

The air was charged with electricity as I pressed my lips against Ulrik’s, giving in to the pent-up desire that had been building throughout the morning. The kiss was a collision of longing and passion, of the magnetic force that drew us together.

He was just as stunned as I was by my impulsiveness, unmoving as I kept our mouths tightly plastered together. My body had acted on its own accord, detached from my brain’s will. But even now that my mind had time to catch up, I couldn’t put an end to this impulse. My body longed for more, and my mouth was finally getting the contact it had craved the whole morning.

When I pressed a little harder, my hands gripping the fine fabric of his suit, Ulrik finally gave me a reaction, breaking out of his immobility. His powerful arms came around me, pulling me closer to him, his lips adamant against mine. It wasn’t normal, not after knowing him for so little time, but his embrace felt like home. I’d been the ghost of myself since leaving Trondheim, and he was breathing life back into me. It was exhilarating, and I wanted more. More of this feeling. More of this thrill. More of him…

He followed my will when I parted my lips, granting me access to the warm confines of his mouth. Our tongues met in a lascivious dance, shivers traveling through my entire body while my skin prickled with goosebumps. I was kissing him again…

“Mila,” he mumbled against my adamant lips. “I thought you wanted to take it slow?”

I didn’t want him to shake some sense into me because I refused to let these amazing sensations end. Not so soon. I’d been starving, and he was my salvation. My arm lifted to wrap around his neck, and I lowered him onto me, ravishing him with even more intensity.

His hands clutched my hips, and I sensed that he was gently trying to push me away. “I’ve missed you,” I moaned, plastering myself onto his solid shape. “I want you.”

Despite my best efforts, it was still there, the tight leash he kept on his desires, the restraint he struggled to hold on himself. So, filling my hands with his delectable behind, I pulled him onto him and delivered what I hoped would be the final blow. “I need you,” I moaned right into our kiss.

The hold of his hands changed, and instead of trying to push me away, they slithered toward my back and pulled me in. At the first graze of his tongue on mine, a shiver coursed my whole body, making me feel like electricity was coursing through my veins. Before I even knew it, he stole the lead away from me, domineeringly taking what he wanted, fucking my mouth with his. His passion was incandescent, and I felt prideful for being able to entice such needs in a man like him.

This man, who was over a thousand years old, wanted me to an unfathomable extent.

I moaned when his hands lowered further down, and he possessively filled them with my ass, kneading the mounds with eagerness. The closet around us vanished, as well as the scent of detergent and the flickering neons above us. All I could think of, all I could perceive, was him. At that moment, my world started and ended with him, and everything beyond was meaningless.

“I missed you,” he grunted against my lips. Then, his attention latched on the thin skin of my throat, which he nibbled and licked with hunger. “I was going mad without you, elskling . Never leave me again.”

“Never lie again,” I retorted, my voice barely more than a whimper.

I wasn’t sure how that happened, but my back was against a wall, and when his hips thrust forward, he squeezed me against it, unleashing a jolt of pleasure in my core. He was hard inside his slacks, his erection answering to the wetness that was gathering beyond my tights and thong. I didn’t expect anything when I’d dragged him in there, but if this leads to a quick and mindblowing fuck, I’d take it.

My leg spread on its own, knee rising to come to rest high on his side. That left me more open, and he didn’t hesitate to answer my invitation. “Ulrik,” I helplessly moaned as he pressed harder against my aching center. The plea, whatever it was, compelled him to reclaim my lips while he began a sensuous roll between us. While he ground on me, right where I needed him so much, his mouth came to my ear, his heavy breaths fanning on the convoluted shapes of it.

“You want me to fuck you right here, Mila?”

I nodded, too far gone to speak.

“Of course you do… Maybe if I fuck you hard enough, your boss will get to hear how much of a demanding little brat you are.”

The reminder that we were at my place of work, only a few yards from my boss’s office near lunch hour, sent a thrill down my spine. It should have acted like a bucket of ice-cold water, but I’d missed my Viking too much to break out of my trance.

“I’ll be quiet,” I negotiated. His rough shove against my pussy forced a shocked moan out of me, proving that I wouldn’t.

“What am I going to do with you, you naughty woman?” he taunted. His baritone whispers didn’t help with my aroused state, and something told me he was very aware of that.

“I have a few ideas in mind,” I replied.

In synch, he reached for my other leg as I lifted it, welcoming him in the cradle of my thighs. Suspended between him and the wall, his hands full of my behind to hold me up, I retook his mouth, my hips writing against him. The skirt was a great choice because the thin barrier of my underwear and tights allowed me to feel everything, from the textured line of his zipper to the hard bulge underneath it, long and swollen, dying to enter me.

Open as I was now, he ground right onto my clit, which I could feel pulsing with the need to climax. Fuck it. He’d gag me if needed, but I needed him inside me before I went mad.

With trembling hands, I reached between us to open his belt. “No,” he muttered. He was quick to stop me, grabbing both wrists and pinning them on the wall on each side of my face. “You’ll come like this, and then I’ll take you out for lunch so that we can talk about our future.”

“Ulrik, I need more…”

“I know, love. Just…focus on this for now.”

He changed something in his thrusts, and more of those pleasurable shivers coursed under my skin. I couldn’t believe that we were dry-humping in a closet of the museum. I felt like a teenager, too hormonal to control myself and so damn horny that this rubbing between us would be enough to come. To come hard .

When my moans became hard to contain, Ulrik muffled me with his broad hand, never halting his grinding. The tension within me was growing with each ardent push, all the way to the breaking point.

The instant I tilted into a devastating orgasm, Ulrik released my lips to cover them with his instead. He swallowed my ecstatic moans and soft cries, maintaining the pace to drag out my release. My whole body was tense, limbs clutching him tightly, a thin veil of sweat coating my skin under my clothes. Even in the midst of it, I was aware of my walls pulsing around emptiness, wishing I could have gotten more than this—no matter how good it was.

I slowly came down, panting and weak, held only by the strength of his arms and his weight that kept me pinned on the wall. Tender, he gave me one last kiss, soft and longing, and helped me to climb back down to the mortal realm. My feet were unsteady as he lowered me to the ground, but he made sure I was stable enough before releasing me entirely. Thankfully, the wall on my back helped me stay upright.

He took me in, his blue gaze scanning my flushed face and satisfied body. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he cursed in Norwegian.

“What about you?” I said in return, gesturing at the hardness I could see under his pants.

“That’ll go away.”

I have him an impish smile. “I can help it go away faster.”

“Behave, you unruly woman. We’ll get there again, but for now, lunch.”

His lack of interest in my offer offended me at first, but then another kind of doubt came to my mind. “Have you—Have you seen other women since…”

I couldn’t even bring myself to ask the question. I wouldn’t be able to hold it against him if he had, but some of the trust that was slowly rebuilding between us would be chipped.

“Of course not,” he answered, visibly surprised by the question.

“Really?”

“Mila, I haven’t told you a single lie aside from what pertains to my origins. What I feel for you is something powerful that I haven’t felt in centuries. That’s why I’ll take the risk of losing you eventually. Getting decades by your side will make it all worth it.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Call it experience, I guess. I’ve lived enough lives to know what this thing between us means.”

“What if I’m…not enough?”

“How so?”

“You’ve seen so many things, known so many interesting people, had so many experiences… There’s no way I’ll be enough in the long run.”

“Let me be the judge of that, alright?”

It was hard to let go of my questions and worries, but as I glimpsed up into his gaze, I read the genuineness in them. So, instead of uttering another protest, I gave him a slight nod, captivated by his blue irises.

He lowered slowly, and I welcomed the press of his lips on mine. This felt more tangible than any promise he could make. Our bodies longed for one another in a way that matched our minds, and when he held me like this, there could be no doubt about it.

Far from satiated, I tried to lure him into more, my daring tongue taunting him. But Ulrik resisted yet again, displaying more restraint than I knew him to have.

“As much as I’d like to eat you whole,” he started after one last peck, “we should really move on with our lunch plans.”

I pouted, discontent. “You’re making me doubt my ability to seduce.”

“You really shouldn’t.”

With a small chuckle, he grabbed my hand and placed it on the front of his trousers. My fingers and palm instantly modeled over the hard shape of his erection, but before I could do anything about it, he pulled my hand away.

Still holding it, he pulled me to the door, which he carefully opened before sending his head out to make sure no one would see us exit this closet. As if he couldn’t help himself, he laid one last urgent kiss on my lips. Then, we discreetly made our way out without anyone seeing us.

As we made our way out of the museum, my entire body still tingled with the rushed and unexpected orgasm he’d given me. This insane chemistry was the very reason why we couldn’t keep our distance, why, despite everything, I was relapsing into this madness that was us.

But maybe it was better to go up in flame from too much passion than never to have known something as profound as this.

【34】I Should Have Guessed

Ulrik

Mila didn’t suggest we head over to her friend’s restaurant, which I supposed was better. How many times had we done this now? How many times had I taken her out for food so that I could plead my case to her?

I’d always enjoyed the unknown, but that wasn’t something I was privy to anymore. I’d seen it all through the centuries, or at least variations. The cities had changed, the ways of life, the technology…but people were still the same. Humans were easy for me; I’d known enough people to discern them easily and know what to expect.

That was probably why she obsessed me as much as she did. She was unexpected, and being around her kept me on my toes. This woman was my blind spot. Her feisty personality and stubborn mind were a gray area, somehow. I couldn’t predict her, and it was thrilling.

Her concerns about her lack of experience and the flimsiness of her mortal life were entirely unfounded. Through her eyes, I would rediscover the world. And through her mortality, I would learn what it was like to live .

“Where to?” she asked once we were outside.

I looked down at her, which was a mistake. She looked stunning in that black ensemble, and her slender legs looked incredible—although they’d look better wrapped around my waist. Rosiness lingered on her cheeks from that moment in the closet, and I still couldn’t believe she’d swayed my mind so easily. If anything, I was a man of strong discipline and impeccable control. I’d learned a long time ago to control my urges and hold my impulses on a tight leash. But with this woman? All bets were off.

“Do you wish to eat anything in particular?” I offered.

She shrugged, her eyes lost further down the street. “There’s a Turkish restaurant a couple of blocks that way. They have amazing kebabs, but it’s not very…intimate.”

“Perfect,” I decided. The less intimate, the better.

I meant it when I said I wanted us to work things through. We’d had quite a few false starts as it was, and I was determined to create a solid foundation for us to lean on. In my experience, it was the best way to build a lasting relationship, and I aspired to do exactly that with her.

Wrapped in our warm coats, we made our way down the street in comfortable silence. The cold helped with my blue balls, to some extent, so the discomfort was slowly fading away. That woman would be my doom; there was no doubt about it.

The place she spoke of was small, a hole in the wall by all means, with about six tables, all of which were already taken. But as soon as we entered, I understood why she’d picked this restaurant among the vast selection available to us. The smells of spices, grilled meats, and firewood were enchanting, and they immediately made my mouth water. She had impeccable taste, and it made her even more alluring to me—if such a thing was even possible.

“Ah, Miss Mila!” the owner, a man with a huge mustache and a thick belly, greeted her from his small kitchen behind the counter.

“Hi, Erkan. Do you have a spot left for two people?”

“Yes, there should be room in the back. Gülşah will come to take your order once you’ve settled.”

She nodded and made her way toward a narrow opening in the back of the place. I followed her, and a second room revealed itself to us. Alright, this place was bigger than I’d realized, and twelve more tables were arranged here. Traditional Turkish music was playing from a cheap sound system, and some pieces of traditional art were hanging on various spots on the walls. There was something charming about this place, and the authenticity of it radiated through every little detail.

Mila opened the buttons of her coat, and I came behind to assist her. Once it was off, she gestured toward a hook in the wall a few paces from us, so I went to hang it there, along with mine. She was already seated when I returned, and I didn’t hold back from admiring her delicate profile. Physical appearance was something that didn’t necessarily matter, but her perfection was like a perpetual miracle that I kept rediscovering.

She caught my insistent gaze, but my eyes didn’t shy away when they met hers. I sat, still shamelessly staring, and the corner of her lip twitched in amusement. “Maybe you’d rather eat me than Erkan’s kebabs,” she teased.

“Oh, I’d eat you whole, love.”

“Promise?” Now, a frank, seductive smile bent the plumpness of her lips.

Shit, this place was supposed to be unromantic, but there I was, already fighting the urge to reach out and kiss her. “Stop trying to tempt me, Miss Connelly. I’m untemptable.”

“My damp underwear says otherwise.”

Fuck… Fuck the mouth-watering smells, fuck taking it slow, fuck the solid foundation… I was about to throw her over my shoulder and drag her out, only to get us to the nearest hotel and fuck her senseless.

As if sent by the gods to stop me, a young woman in her early twenties appeared by our side. She carried two menus tucked in her arm, as well as a bottle of water with condensation already pearling on the glass. She had curly black hair and eyes just as dark. “Hello, Miss Mila,” she greeted my companion as she settled everything between us.

“Hey, Gülşah. Could you get a pot of ç ay started, please?”

“Of course. I’ll be right back with it.”

The waitress saluted us with a polite nod and disappeared just as fast as she’d appeared.

“You come here often,” I said to Mila.

It wasn’t a question, but she nodded regardless. “At least once a week,” she confirmed. “It’s cheap, good, and leaves me with a full stomach for the rest of the afternoon.”

“It does smell delicious.”

“Erkan’s in charge of the grilling, his wife, Nermin, handles the rest, and Gülşah is their daughter. They all arrived from Gaziantep and opened this place around the same time as I started working at the museum. I was one of the first clients.”

“You have a flair for authenticity. Those smells remind me of Istanbul.”

“You’ve been there?”

It was my turn to smile coyly. “I’ve been everywhere Love.”

“Of course you have.” She said that with a roll of her eyes, but the grin she struggled to contain softened the act.

“I even remember Istanbul during the crusades—on the way down to Jerusalem.”

This time, she didn’t even try to hide her amusement as she muttered, “Show off.”

The fact that she wasn’t entirely thrown off by the mention of my unusually long lifespan was a good sign. She was already accepting that part of me, and it was reassuring. Very few of my love affairs had known about my longevity. Not that I’d had that many significant others throughout my life, but loneliness did push me to seek that sort of lasting company now and then. It rarely lasted more than a decade, though, and very rarely a lifetime— their lifetime.

Something told me that with Mila, though, things would be different. This wasn’t mere loneliness tugging at my soul, pushing me to find someone to share a few decades of my life with. No, with Yuko around, I hadn’t felt truly alone, her presence anchoring me into reality and providing me the much-needed human touch we all craved. No, Mila was something else. She was a compulsory need, something that called to my very being, to my entire person.

She picked up her menu and opened it between us, then her eyes began scanning the dishes she probably knew by heart. I did the same, quickly finding several items that I wished to try. It was a good thing this place was near the museum because I’d get to return upon joining her for lunch like this again.

“Do you speak Turkish?” she wondered, probably compelled by the language being on the menu in several places.

“Not very well, I’m afraid.”

“Are you trying to be humble?”

A smile tugged at my lips. “No, I genuinely mean it. I speak many European languages, like French, German, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, Scandinavian dialects, as well as a few Slavic ones. I also speak Arabic, Japanese, a few Indian dialects, Mandarin and Cantonese… For a lot of them, my knowledge is rusty, and my use might be dated, as I haven’t been able to practice some in over a century. Then, I’ve picked up a few things in other countries, but I wouldn’t say I know those languages, per se.”

“Let’s pretend you were stranded in Turkey with no phone or anything to help. Would you manage?”

“Probably, yes. I’d probably butcher the language, but I’d manage.” She nodded, visibly impressed. “It’s easy when you’ve had 1157 years of practice,” I felt compelled to add. “You speak many more languages than I did when I was your age.”

That brought a proud little smirk to her mouth, which delighted me. Making her feel inferior wasn’t something I was comfortable with, and it would only put a strain on this thing we were trying to build. I couldn’t help my past; those centuries were out of my hands. But I could do something about their impact on her.

The waitress, Gülşah, returned with a steaming pot of tea and two cups for it. “Have you chosen what you’d like?” she cheerfully asked.

Mila gave me a questioning look, wondering if I’d landed on a decision, and I nodded. She then turned to the waitress. “I’ll have the chorba, please.”

“With a bazlama on the side, as usual?”

“Of course.”

“Noted. What about you, sir?”

“We’ll share a meze. And I’ll have the chich kebab.”

“Perfect, thank you.” She took the menus away from us before leaving us alone again.

Mila leaned forward, her fingers intertwined together as her elbows came to rest on the table, and she looked at me with her chin on her hands. Under the table, her foot came to rest against the side of my calf, and I welcomed the gesture with great enthusiasm.

“You know that silly question,” she started with unmasked amusement, “’ if you could have dinner with anyone, dead or alive, who would you choose?’”

I nodded, mesmerized by the flirtiness in her eyes.

“Do you know what’s the answer I’ve given since I was thirteen?” she continued.

This time, I shook my head.

“The legendary Haakon Odinson.”

Her revelation took a second to hit, but when it did, a laugh rumbled in my chest before pouring out of my lips. “Well, this isn’t dinner, but close enough,” I answered.

“We had dinners before.”

“We did.”

“And a lot more than that.”

“A lot more, yes.”

She let out a breathy, incredulous chuckle and moved to grab the pot of tea.

“Something amusing?” I wondered.

“I should have guessed.”

“Guessed what?”

“That you weren’t just a normal guy in his thirties. You are way too good in bed for that.”

The laugh that tore out of me attracted the attention of the few people in the room with us. Once they were back to their own conversations, I leaned forward, setting my crossed arms over the table. “That spectacular, eh?”

“I could ask you the same. You’re here, aren’t you? Chasing after me.”

This woman was very aware of her worth, and her confidence was one of the sexiest things I’d ever seen. “You’re pretty fucking spectacular, yeah.”

“And I learned all those tricks in only twenty-five years, old man.”

There was no wonder I was in love with her. More than ever, I knew that I never stood a chance. Not against her quick wits and effortless charm. I wasn’t equipped to resist the force of nature that was Mila Connelly, and luckily for me, she couldn’t resist me either.

We were back at it, and I would make damn sure to never jeopardize us ever again. She was far too precious to lose. I ought to get as much of her as I could for my own sanity.

If all those long centuries were the price to pay to find myself in the same lifetime as her, then maybe it had all been worth it, after all…

【35】Scared of Being Alone

Ulrik

The lunch went by in a blink. I blamed it on the stellar food and even better company. We spoke with unrelenting passion, and I reveled in the effortless intimacy we shared despite everything my secrets had put us through.

But before I knew it, before I’d gotten my fill of Mila, it was time for her to return to the museum. We’d stayed for twice as long as her break customarily allowed, and she didn’t feel comfortable claiming more of it, given that this wasn’t, by any means, a professional lunch.

So, once we were done sharing the platter filled with several Turkish dessert samples, I paid for our meal and assisted her with her coat. Because she’d told me those were her favorite, I discreetly asked Gülşah to pack half a dozen of şekerpares—an almond biscuit dipped in lemon syrup. Mila’s eyes sparkled as I handed it to her, and the delicacies earned me a quick and discreet peck on the lips. The return to the museum was silent since our respective reluctance to part weighed the air between us. We could have stayed four hours in that restaurant, among the smells of spices and the sound of baglama, and never run out of things to say or ask one another.

Once the service doors of the museum were in sight, I forced myself to trigger some conversation again to get a very last piece of her mind before we separated. “Have the items I brought been handled yet?”

“Kind of. Ian, my boss, found us a spare room, and we’ve settled everything there so we can study them properly before storing them until the exhibit. I spent my morning cataloging everything in our database, and I still have about half of it left.”

“You wanted a lot of things.”

“It was a preselection, Ulrik,” she replied with a laugh. “I was going to trim it down and only select the essential pieces.”

“Well, it’s too late for that.”

Her steps slowed as if she wanted to delay the moment we’d reach those doors, and I followed her lead. “This morning, we also unpacked the sword,” she said with a small voice. Haakon’s sword. Your sword.“

“It’s your sword, love. Annie McCaine sent it to you.”

Her smile went straight to my heart, even though she offered it to the paved sidewalk. “We both know it’s yours, not only legally but also originally. You can have it back, Ulrik. I won’t be mad, I promise.”

I pensively stared upfront, to those damn doors that kept getting closer and closer. “I’ve been looking for it for a millennium. I lost it in a bloody battle against the Northumbrian army sent to raze our settlement. It was a rainy and muddy day, and it got lost among the corpses and destruction.”

“Yeah, McCaine found it plowing his field, so I figured that much. It’s still yours, though.”

“I can wait another few years,” I insisted. “It’ll make you happy, and what’s so little compared to ten centuries?”

“It would be amazing for my exhibit,” she hesitantly admitted. “I’d make it the centerpiece of it.”

“You know what would make it even better?”

“What?”

“If you had the second one as well.”

She stopped in her tracks, stunned by my offer. “Are you—Is this an offer?”

“Maybe, yes. It’s only fair those two are reunited. And I don’t have much use for just one, so I might as well loan you both.”

Lost in her thoughts again, she mindlessly resumed our walk. A few steps away from the doors, she asked, “Do the swords give you some kind of power? I translated the runes on them, but there can be several interpretations of their meaning.”

What a clever little woman… No wonder I was utterly obsessed with her.

“They do, yes. Holding both gives me as much power as my father. I could slay twenty men with one swing or bring down a stone house with a mere kick.”

“That must have been formidable.”

“It was. That’s a rather useless ability in today’s age, though.”

Her soft giggle had my chest swelling with contentment. “Well, you never know when the Danes are going to invade us again.”

“I’d be on the wrong side of the invasion, alas.” She laughed again, and just as we reached the doors, the pleasurable sound of it came to a stop.

Silence befell us again. What now? Did we set another one of those relaxed dates? Should I come again the next day? Could we risk a parting kiss despite one of her colleagues potentially witnessing it? She was just as lost as I was, looking up at me with uncertainty.

“Do you—”

“Should we—”

We’d both spoken at the same time, causing smiles to claim our faces. “You go,” I offered.

“No, go ahead.”

“Well, I was thinking that I should…come with you to make sure my artifacts are being handled properly.”

She said nothing for a few seconds, taking my suggestion in, and then let out an incredulous laugh. “Maybe you should, yes. We’re not very good at this priceless treasure thing, you know? We’re only the biggest museum in the country, after all.”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking. It would be a relief to see for myself.”

“Absolutely, I understand.”

This was a poor excuse not to separate yet, and we were both aware of it. It was a good enough cover, though, so we went for it.

She gave me an impish smile, visibly delighted by this turn of events, and she entered the code on the panel at the side of the door to open it. “Mr. Westergaard,” she formally said, inviting me to step in.

“How kind of you, Miss Connelly.”

Once we were both in, she guided me with ease through the hallways of the museum. As we entered a more isolated area, I didn’t resist the urge to graze the small of her back. If it were me, we’d return to the restaurant so we could flirt and banter all afternoon, her foot caressing my calf under the table.

I was right behind her as she opened a white door that led to a medium-sized room. The lights in it were already on, and I quickly spotted the reason why. A tall and broad middle-aged man with a lush beard and a pair of glasses perched on his nose was already in there, crouching over a piece from my collection set on a table. The room had been arranged to accommodate the impressive display, and several tables and shelves were filled with my stuff.

“Mila, there ye are! We were supposed to start working on the—” He noticed me, which stopped him mid-sentence.

“Ian, this is Ulrik Westergaard,” Mila introduced me.

“Yes, I remember.” Ian abandoned his artifact and walked up to me. “I’ve never seen a collection as impressive as yers, lad.”

Being called “lad” by a man who assumed I was much younger than him always brought some amount of amusement, and I noticed the way Mila held back a smile as well, giving me a side glance.

“I’m a dedicated collector,” I answered, shaking the hand he extended. He was nearly as tall as me, which I wasn’t used to.

“Mila told me everything about her few weeks in yer estate, but seeing the pieces in person is something else.”

“I suppose it is.”

“I have a question about this one—if ye’d be so kind.”

Without waiting for my answer, Mila’s boss headed back to his table. I used the opportunity to bend toward her with a barely contained smirk. “You told him everything, eh?”

She winced, which I wasn’t expecting. “He knows that we became…intimate. But he’s too professional to bring it up, don’t worry.” Before I could ask what she meant by that, her hand pushed me toward her boss, who was back to examining a piece from up close.

I removed my scarf on my way there and settled it on the back of a chair. My coat was opened by the time I reached her boss, and I dismissed it in the same way. “What’s your question, mate?”

The next hour was spent exploring the pieces with Mila and her boss. He was just as passionate about the Viking age as she was, and I could tell that to her, he was more of a mentor than a boss. But while it was enjoyable to see her interact with him in such an enthusiastic manner, I almost regretted his presence among us. I wished I could have shared with her some of the secrets these pieces harbored. Most of my collection came directly from my own loot, the treasures I’d amassed back in the day. That was the reason why most of them were in near-perfect condition, having never been buried with my body on some hill. But because of Ian, I was forced to hold it all back, keeping my true nature impossible to guess.

I still managed to steal a graze here and then, holding myself too close to her and even sending a bold hand under her skirt when she bent in front of me to observe a piece. I’d missed touching her, and being deprived of it when she was right there was pure torture. She was just as eager, her wandering hands just as deft and discreet as mine, when opportunities to touch me arose.

There was something remarkably sexy about her extensive knowledge of my people, and I supposed she felt the same regarding me. I’d noticed earlier that the room had no security cameras, as it probably wasn’t meant to host anything of value,

Their colleague, Ingrid, joined us for a few moments, and while she wasn’t as outspoken as them, I could feel her enthusiasm for the great treasure I’d brought them. It made sense that occupying this kind of position in one of the world’s most prestigious museums was reserved for the most dedicated among us. It was nice to find myself among them, though, and their vast knowledge was enjoyable for me, like discussing an era we’d all been through, even though none of them had experienced it.

“Have you seen this one, Ian?” Mila called him from another table.

I joined her there, along with him, and she showed us a gold-plated pendant nearly as big as her palm holding it. The sword was on that same table, and after a glimpse at it, I focused on her again.

“Oh, that is lovely,” her boss approved, adjusting his glasses to see it better. After a moment, he asked, “What do you make of it?”

“Well, that’s clearly Mammen, so between 975 and 1010, give or take.”

“That isn’t Mammen,” I countered.

“Then what? Early Ringerike?”

I shook my head. “Borre.”

Her eyebrows came together, clearly disagreeing with my prognosis. “It can’t be Borre. There’s no symmetry, and the details are way too delicate to be Borre.”

“Well, it’s about a hundred years older than the Mammen age, so I suppose the artist would appreciate the compliment.”

“There’s no way it’s—” She caught something in my eye, probably certainty, and it prevented her from arguing further. Despite both of them being experts in this field, I was the most knowledgeable—by far. “Right… Never mind,” she gave up with a small roll of her eyes.

She’d have to get used to me knowing a lot more than her about Vikings, which I supposed wasn’t something common for her.

Her boss remained with us for another half hour before remembering he had an important call coming up. “Don’t have too much fun without me, kids,” he ordered before exiting the room.

The studious atmosphere didn’t last more than two seconds once he was out. Mila and I stared at one another, listening to the sound of his steps slowly fading away out there. As soon as we couldn’t hear him anymore, the stillness of the room turned into an invitation to give in to our needs. If we did, though, there was a strong chance that we’d end up fucking on one of the tables. Something told me she wouldn’t mind, and deep down, I wouldn’t either. But it was risky, and I wanted more than a few fleeting minutes inside her.

“Should we—Should we head over to your office so you can show me what you have planned?”

“Are you scared of being alone in the same room as me?” she asked with a mix of amusement and delight.

“I’ve seen what you’re capable of in closets, love. I don’t want to find out what you can do with so many surfaces readily available.”

Taking it as a challenge, she began walking toward me. No, this wasn’t happening. Before she could reach me, I grabbed my coat and scarf. She giggled when I escaped her just before she reached me.

“Will you look at this… The mighty Haakon Odinson is scared of little old me.”

“I’m not scared of you, elskling . But I would rather not get caught balls deep inside you. Now, grab your things, temptress, and let’s head back to somewhere less…isolated.”

“Just a kiss,” she negotiated. “And then we head back.”

I hesitated, which she noticed. Convinced she’d won her case, she joined me by the door, all tempting and confident. When she stretched up, I allowed it, watching her lips inch closer to mine.

That little minx… She was going to leave me with a set of blue balls and a painful erection again.

Before she could turn this into the heavy makeout session she had in mind, I gave her parted lips a brief but intense peck, resisting the urge to give her anything more. Then, I ignored her discontented pout and opened the door.

“Alright, young one. Let’s go.”

She sighed, grabbing her things. When she was by me again, she looked up with unmasked frustration. “The day you give in, Ulrik, I’ll fuck your brains out.”

“I have no doubt that you will, love. In fact, I’m counting on it.” I gave her a wink, which seemed to appease some of her annoyance, and as she passed, I gave the firmness of her ass a small slap.

We would get there sooner than I would want, but there was no way I’d abstain from ravishing her for much longer. My body longed for hers, and my centuries of perfecting the art of patience and restraint were being tested.

【36】You Made me

Ulrik stayed around while I worked, which wasn’t something I expected. But I welcomed his presence despite the restless desire that lingered between us. Resisting him was exhausting, and appearing inconspicuous in front of my colleagues was draining. The looks we exchanged weren’t always those of friendly acquaintances, and I caught him staring at me longingly more than once.

Later in the day, I went to Henry’s office to get his opinion on a couple of pieces. Ulrik was by my side then, too, and anytime Henry was too focused on his work to pay attention to us, Ulrik granted me soft touches, sometimes on my lower back, sometimes even lower.

It was as though a piece of ember was settled inside me, and he blew and blew on it, finding the spectacle entertaining. It never fully ignited into flames, but he kept me on the edge of it, leaving me hot and bothered.

The man truly was a master of teasing. He’d had centuries to hone that talent, and I was the helpless recipient of it all.

When the end of the day finally came, I was a strange mix of worn out and excited. It felt like ages had passed since I’d woken up this morning with him in my bed, and after all those hours and a dry-humping orgasm, I was ready to go home.

“Do you want me to drive you home?” Ulrik offered on our way back to my office after spending more time in the room where his priceless loans were.

“You drove here?”

He nodded. “Thought I’d give the car a go; it’s been a while.”

“Oh, right. I forgot you have a townhouse in London.”

Because we’d spent the afternoon working together, it wouldn’t be too weird for us to leave at the same time, would it? Anyhow, it wasn’t like those sparks flying between us would remain unnoticed for much longer.

“I’d love to visit your place,” I said as we were arriving at my office.

“Would you?”

“Yeah, I figure I’ll be spending some time there, won’t I?”

As we entered, I noticed with relief that Ian and Ingrid were already gone. We wouldn’t have to maintain a professional facade. He thought about my suggestions as I grabbed my coat and then helped me slip it on.

“If I take you to my place, will you behave, or will you try to get your ways with me again?” he wondered with unmasked amusement.

“When have I ever been known to behave?”

“That’s what I feared,” he gravely said.

Just as I grabbed my bag, he pulled me into his arms and placed me right before him. “How about this,” he started, “I’ll get you to your place now, but on Friday, you come to mine for a date.”

I couldn’t hold back the pout that claimed my lips. Gigi would be home, given her schedule, so it meant that Ulrik and I would have to part ways. That didn’t feel right, somehow, despite spending hours with him.

Before I could argue or suggest an alternative, though, he gave me a kiss, as brief as it was sudden, and released me entirely.

“You know you’re a tease, right?” I asked with a pout.

“Takes one to know one, love.”

I was still pouting as we made our way out of the office.

We came across a few colleagues, but I forced myself to stay relaxed. I’d spent two weeks at Ulrik’s place, so it was only fair that we’d have a friendly relationship. People wouldn’t guess he’d fucked my brains out just because we exited the building together.

His car was parked a couple of blocks away, and before we’d even reached it, I knew which one it was. The electric blue vintage car stood out of the gray, white, and black ones. The man truly had a thing for collectibles. “” How many cars do you own?“ I wondered as we came closer to the two-seat sporty car.

He pondered for a few paces, internally counting. The fact that he was rich enough to not know how many cars he owned was insane to me.

“I’d say around a hundred, give or take. I have a few for every house I own and spend time in, plus another few stashed in storage.”

“And how many collectibles among those?”

He unlocked the door on my side, slipping the key in. “Most of them. But they weren’t vintage when I bought them.”

I didn’t even try to hide my smile as I sat down while he held the door open for me. “Show off,” I mumbled.

It was his turn to grin, and just before he closed the door, he replied, “You like it.”

He joined me in the car, still amused, and when he switched it on, the engine sounded as vintage as the car looked. I let him focus to drive us out of his parking spot, and once we were off, I asked, “How’s Yuko doing?”

“Good. I told her we were…reconciled, so she’s beyond good, actually.”

“She’s really involved in this thing working out, isn’t she?”

He sighed, shaking his head. “Yuko always thought that my life was too lonely for my own good. She’s been saying that for a few decades. Then you came in, and she really, really liked you. She’s great at reading people, and she had this feeling that you’d be my perfect match. Nearly from day one, she’s been your wingwoman, trying to open my eyes and force me to let go of my fears.”

“She advocated in your favor quite a few times, too,” I recalled. Then, with a broad smile, I said, “We were her puppets, weren’t we?”

He was as amused as I was when he replied, “The woman’s a force of nature. We were helpless to her tricks.”

Since we were at a red light, he rested his broad hand over my thigh, which was quick to set me ablaze. The thin tights weren’t enough to shield me from the warmth of his skin or the delicious feelings of his thumb mindlessly grazing.

I said nothing, though, refusing to beg once more for him to put his dick in me. He’d been more than clear about his intentions to hold off for a little longer, and I ought to respect his will.

When his hand left to switch gear, the relief was only short-lived, as he returned it as soon as he could.

“I’ve been arranging things to relocate there in a more durable manner,” he explained a few moments later. “Yuko is preparing things in the estate, and I’ll have to go pick her up, then spend a few days in Oslo to get my affairs in order.”

“Are you sure you’ll be fine with it? I know you love your family estate. Which I suppose was never one,” I skeptically added.

“I was born near that land, and I acquired it five centuries ago. It’s been the one place where I always return to.”

“Don’t people notice?”

He shook his head. “I usually waited for at least forty years before returning to live somewhere. You’d be surprised at how fast you can forget someone’s face. People merely assumed that the genes ran strong in my family and that I looked like my grandfather. Now that everyone has a camera, though, I’m a little more worried about the implications. I can track and remove the pictures of me online, but not the ones in people’s albums.”

“I see… What will you do about that?”

“For now, I stay low, a lot more than I used to in the past. I might extend my time away. People rarely go through their grandparents’ albums, do they? Returning somewhere after sixty years should be enough.”

The way he spoke about decades as I would months was a strange reminder that we didn’t play in the same leagues. Not even close.

“Is London safe for you right now? When was the last time you’ve lived here?”

“Queen Victoria was still alive.”

“Holy fuck,” I breathed out.

“Yeah, it’s been a while. I come here now and then, don’t get me wrong. But I haven’t properly lived here for that long.”

For the rest of the drive, I asked him about his experience with the Industrial Revolution and seeing the world change as much as it had in the past hundred years. He admitted that keeping up with the fast evolution wasn’t always easy, but he loved seeing the world evolve. He found it greatly entertaining, and for a mind like him that had seen it all, it was a blessing.

I wasn’t ready to part when he reached my street, so I asked him to park in an empty spot rather than drop me by my door.

“Do you have any plans tomorrow?” I wondered.

He winced. Not a good sign. “I might fly to Oslo to handle a couple of things. I’ll be back the day after, right on time for our date.”

“You better be back.”

His hand returned to my thigh, where he squeezed me gently. “I wouldn’t miss it, elskling .”

The promise in his eyes was unmistakable, and it sent a surge of emotions raging in my chest. Silence followed his statement, and the space filled itself with tension, with the need we had for one another.

I was the first one to lean toward him, but he quickly mirrored the gesture. We both stopped moments before our lips met, and I looked up into his cerulean eyes, a mere inch away from mine.

“I missed you,” I whispered.

“You’re the one who left.” It wasn’t so much a reproach but a reminder.

So, I felt compelled to remind him, “You made me.”

“I know.”

His gaze drifted to my lips, and that was all I needed to give in. Our lips met in that familiar way that forever remained earth-shattering. It was soft, and tender, and sweet. But it wasn’t enough.

My fingers tangled up in his neatly combed hair to pull him closer, and my tongue avidly licked the closed seam of his lips. His own hand reached for the side of my face, pulling me closer as he unlocked his jaw to grant me access. The kiss, which had started so gentle, turned into something much more carnal. Neither of us was very good at containing all the raw passion that we harbored, and it showed every time we let it loose.

With every famished lick of his tongue, I grew more needy, more eager, more restless.

“I need to go,” I breathed out into our kiss. If we kept doing this, I’d beg him to take me to his place again, and it wasn’t fair for his resolve.

He pulled away with a grunt and lost himself in my lust-veiled eyes. “Do you know how mad you drive me, woman?”

“About as mad as you drive me.”

A huge and proud grin split his face in half. “” That sounds about right, yeah.“ He gave me one more peck, and I felt the faintest brush of his tongue against my lips. “Friday. I’ll be all yours on Friday.”

“Aren’t you all mine all the time?”

Another famished peck. “I am. By the gods, I am…”

He was the one who gave in this time, grabbing my face and pulling me in. Crap, we were both starving for more.

Unearthing some strength I never knew was in me, I pushed against the firm expanse of his chest and ripped myself away from his skillful lips. “Friday,” I asserted, as much for him as for me.

Before my resolve could be tested again, I grabbed the handle and exited the car. “Pick me up at seven on Friday. Don’t be late.”

“Aye, aye, Miss Connelly.”

Just because he was too irresistible, I bent inside the car one last time, and, with a shared effort, we exchanged one last urgent kiss. Because I loved to drive him mad, I walked all the way to my building’s entrance without a look back. I could feel his eyes on me the whole time, but I never wavered, never turned around. And once the door was closed behind me, I leaned back onto it with a stupid grin plastered on my face.

God, I couldn’t believe how fast he’d made his way back into my life. Into my heart.

The bond between us, the pull that had been there from the very start, was stronger than ever. Something told me I’d never be able to escape this man.

And something told me that, deep down, I’d never want to.

【37】Wasn’t Just a Man

The next morning, Ulrik was the first thing that popped into my mind as I woke up. We’d spent part of the evening texting each other, meaning I wasn’t very focused during my movie night with Gigi. She hadn’t seemed to mind, though, also absorbed by the messages she’d exchanged with Vick.

Because of the insane tension between us, my dreams had been populated with erotic images of Ulrik and me doing all the naughty things I was craving. So, naturally, I grabbed my phone as soon as I awoke to text him.

Good morning, old man , I sent with a smile.

His answer didn’t take long to arrive, and while I waited, I grazed the soft fur of Simone, who was in the bed with me, as usual. Morning, darling. Did you sleep well?

Not really. And it was all your fault.

How so?

You were in my dreams. Doing things to me.

What sort of things? he sent, and my teeth dug into my lower lip.

All the things.

That sounds like me. Was I good at it?

Of course. So good that I’m considering taking out my toy from my nightstand.

The answer took slightly longer to arrive this time, and I eyed the drawer where I kept my vibrator. I hadn’t given in yesterday upon getting in bed, but the morning came with new temptations. When the phone vibrated in my hand, I was confident I would indulge in some morning self-care.

You naughty girl. I see no one has taught you about patience and delayed gratification.

I’d rather have an orgasm now than no orgasm at all.

What about an orgasm so good on Friday that you see stars?

You already make it good like that, with or without the wait.

That’s what I get for spoiling a brat.

An obsessed brat?

A brattier brat.

I giggled alone in my bed, delighted by the casual exchange. My hand still tingled to reach out for the toy in my nightstand. But I was familiar enough with the man to know that complying to his demand would earn me a reward. One big enough to make up for a little sexual frustration.

If I’m not allowed some “self-care,” then it would only be fair if you weren’t either.

I haven’t indulged in “self-care” since you left Norway.

His message had my eyebrows rising high on my forehead. Really? I sent back.

Why is that hard to believe?

Maybe it’s because you have an insane libido?

I don’t.

I have firsthand experience that says you do.

I have an insane libido with YOU. Sex became boring three centuries in. You made it fun again.

What a compliment that was… Heat crept up my cheeks, delight feeling my chest with a tightening sensation.

So, you complain a lot about me being a brat, but you really, really like it, don’t you?

Obviously.

Another excited giggle rolled in my chest. Ugh, I could do this all day, but the time on my phone informed me that I had to start getting ready if I didn’t want to be late for work.

With a sigh, I typed another message. Alright, I’ll leave the vibrator in its drawer. You better make it worth it, Norseman.

Like there’s any doubt about that… Alright, love, I have to leave for the airport.

Have a safe flight. Try not to crash. That’d probably make you late.

I could visualize him smiling and shaking his head at that. The image itself was enough to make my knees press together in an effort to shush the desire that persisted between my legs. Friday couldn’t come soon enough.

Since he’d admitted to loving my bratty ways, I snapped a picture for him on my way to the shower. I was suffering over here, and I wanted to make sure he was, too. We were in this together, after all, weren’t we?

The pic wasn’t coy or suggestive. No, it was a bold and straightforward snap of the reflection of my naked body, leaving nothing to the imagination. I sent it along with one last text, my cheeks hurting from how hard I was smiling. A little something while you wait for Friday ;)

I didn’t wait for his reply before hopping into the shower. The water felt good on my heater skin, especially since I kept it on the edge of cold and tepid. By the time I was out, Ulrik had answered, and his text brought back a surge of heat to my damp skin.

If you have plans for the weekend, cancel them. You won’t be able to walk after I’m done with you.

I would worry about my actions when the time came, but for now, I felt fantastic about it.

Gigi was working on breakfast when I came out, all dressed and ready for work. The cats were harassing her for their morning feed, and when she tripped on one, she let out a curse. “Hi, babe,” I greeted as I joined her there. Once they realized I was there, the starving felines focused on me instead.

“Hi, Mimi. I’m making scrambled eggs. Want some?”

“Sure. I’m running a little late, but I always have time for your eggs.”

While she took care of that, I fed the hellraisers so we could have some peace. Then, I poured myself a tall cup of strong black coffee and added some water to the pot for hers. A few minutes later, we were both settled on the high counter with our brews, a glass of orange juice, and the eggs she’d made. Our schedules rarely allowed us to have breakfast together like this, so it was nice.

“Are you still spending the weekend at Vick’s?” I wondered in a way I hoped would be inconspicuous.

“Actually, all three roommates will be there, so we were thinking we might spend it here instead if that’s fine with you.”

“Oh, uh…” Shit, I wasn’t sure what to tell her. Chances were, I’d be spending my weekend at Ulrik’s. He’d told me himself to cancel my plans. “I mean, that’s fine, yeah,” I carefully started. “I might not be here myself, so you two can have the whole place to yourselves.”

“Really? Where are you going?”

I had to be careful there, but I had no idea what to say that wouldn’t sound suspicious. “Didn’t I tell you I had a date on Friday?” I tried, putting on my best poker face.

After a few seconds of speechless shock, her eyebrows came together. “No, you didn’t.”

“Really? Well, I’m going on a date, and depending on how it goes, I might spend the weekend at his.”

Gigi settled her fork down on her plate and leaned back into her seat to give me her full focus. Oh, that wasn’t good…

“So, you’re finally moving on?” she asked.

Remaining vague about who I was going out with and lying to her about Ulrik being out of the picture were two very different things. The latter didn’t sit right with me, so I gave her a vague “Hmm,” as well as a shrug, shoving a forkful of eggs in my mouth.

I took her silence as a good sign, but that only lasted for a few moments. “So?” she wondered after swallowing a few gulps of orange juice. “Don’t leave me hanging, Mila. Who are you going out with?”

“Some guy I met at work.” Not a lie.

“Really? Tell me more.”

“Like what?”

“Like, who is that guy, and why is it Ulrik?”

My eyes widened at his name popping in her mouth, and I nearly choked on my coffee. She watched me with an unimpressed look as I coughed my lungs out, and when I tried to speak, my voice sounded messy and croaky. “It’s not—What?”

“Nope, don’t bullshit me, Jamila. I know it’s him. You’ve been moping around since you got back, and suddenly, you got better. Then, yesterday, you were texting and giggling the whole evening. I know it’s not just some random bloke.”

“I wasn’t texting… him .”

She raised a distrustful eyebrow. “Then who was it?”

I tried. I really tried to come up with a convincing lie, but nothing came. She knew me too well for my own good, and anything I could say would only worsen my situation. So, instead of talking, I pinched my lips and stayed silent.

“I fucking knew it!” she exploded at my silent admission. “I knew you were seeing him again!”

“I’m sorry,” I broke down, my shoulders sinking. “He just—he came back, and he’s been so sweet and caring, and we started seeing each other again, and—”

“How many chances will you give that guy?!”

“Gi, it’s complicated.”

“Oh, I know it is. I picked up the pieces of you when you returned from Norway. And now, you’re back with him?”

“He is—he isn’t a bad guy, I promise.”

“Allow me to doubt that.”

“He’s had a complicated life, okay?”

“Really? He’s an attractive, rich white man. What sort of complications could he have had?” she caustically wondered.

“He… Well, he was orphaned by the age of eight. And he used to be married until his wife got ill and died,” I explained, still aiming for as much honesty as I could.

“Oh…” Gigi’s severe expression turned into mild confusion as she pondered on her accusations.

“He is a good guy,” I insisted. “A great guy. He’s just complicated.”

She pouted, clearly not buying my plea. I couldn’t blame her for wanting to protect me because she’d seen firsthand how broken I’d been after my stay in his estate. But with everything I now knew, I couldn’t blame Ulrika for his secrets. There was no way to break something like that to me without things going haywire.

“It’s the last time,” Gi commandingly said. “It’s the last chance you’re giving him, and I’ll make sure of that.”

“He promised there wouldn’t be another mishap.”

“There better not be, young lady,” she scolded. “I’ll kick his blonde arse to the curb otherwise.”

I chuckled at the image, trying to picture a five-foot-three Gigi physically fighting six-foot-four Ulrik. Touched by how much she wanted to protect me, I covered her hand on the counter with mine and squeezed it gently.

“I love you so much for looking after me, babe,” I said, meeting her eyes. “But I know what I’m doing.”

“You know I only want what’s best for you, right? I don’t care about him or any other guy. All I want is your happiness.”

With a smile, I picked up her hand and brought it to my lips to give it a grateful kiss. “I know, Gigi. I know.”

We exchanged a smile before returning to our breakfast. That girl was my very own bodyguard, and while she wasn’t used to me getting tangled up in men problems, she was doing great at it.

But Ulrik wasn’t just a man, was he? He was a demigod.

---

The intercom rang, making my hand jump a little, which spread lipstick past my lipline. “Crap,” I mumbled, correcting the mistake with my free hand.

I was in the living room, getting ready for my date. Being on time was something I was normally good at, but because I wanted to look perfect, I had tried on too many outfits and redone my eyes twice. Gigi was also getting ready for work, and I couldn’t tell if she was running late as well, but she usually would have been gone by now.

Because she was near it, she walked to the intercom instead of me. “Can you tell him that I’m coming down in a sec?” I asked, finishing my lips

Instead of complying, she picked up and said, “You can come up,” before buzzing him in.

“Gi, what are you doing?”

“I want to talk to him.”

I already knew the answer, but I still asked, “About what?”

“About this being his last chance, and how if he breaks your heart again, I’ll break his bones.”

The fact that she literally couldn’t break his bones even if she tried amused me, but I quenched it on the count of her being extremely serious about it.

I was a little nervous as I finished the last touch-ups of my makeup, and when two knocks came from the front door, my heart skipped a beat. I didn’t want our date to start on a sour note. There was nothing Gigi could tell him that he didn’t already know, and I hoped she wouldn’t manage to knock some sense into him. Because, yes, he’d hurt me a lot in the past, and I was being magnanimous by offering him another chance. But I didn’t care about any of that. He’d had his reasons, and they made sense.

With determined steps, Gi went to the door, plastering a scowl on her face. I quickly stood from the couch and joined her just as she opened. “Come in,” she coldly said.

I couldn’t see him from where I stood, but the moment he stepped in, my heart swelled in my chest. He looked beyond stunning in his dark blue knitted turtleneck, dark jeans, and khaki coat. He’d gone to the barber, and his perfect haircut accentuated the sharp, striking lines of his features.

His eyes fell on me while I was still admiring his stunning looks, and the appreciation in them matched mine. I was wearing a form-fitting red dress with off-shoulder three-quarters sleeves. The thick fabric was held by a wire to create a deep cleavage that would be impossible otherwise, exposing my shoulders. As for my dark hair, it was styled in loose waves that cascaded down.

Remembering that he was in front of Gigi, he ripped his gaze away from me and offered her a dashing smile.

“Good evening, Gigi.”

She immediately raised a hand between them. “No, don’t even try. Your charm might work on Mila, but I’m hermetic to it.”

He frowned, taken aback, and I stopped myself from facepalming. Carefully, he tried to diffuse the tension with “I wasn’t trying to—”

“We need to have a talk before you two leave,” she cut him.

I came forward and laid a hand on her forearm. “Grace, you don’t have to—”

“Tututut. I have to and I will.” She returned her attention to Ulrik, who still had no idea what was coming his way. “You, mister hot piece of Scandinavian arse. I understand that you’ve had a complicated life and you don’t have your shit sorted. But my girl here hasn’t had it easy either, and she doesn’t need your bullshit to add to it.”

I winced and pinched my nose. That was entirely unnecessary. At least she was assertive rather than furious, which would have made this a lot more tense.

“I’ve seen what you do to her,” Gi continued, pointing at me. “I’ve seen how happy you make her, but I’ve also seen how miserable she gets. So, this is your final warning, mister hot-shot. Next time I have to scoop up the pieces of her because of you, I will come after your arse.”

She was so small compared to him that she looked like an angry hamster. The image was so amusing that I had to quench my smile out of respect for my roommate. Ulrik also remained serious, offering her a firm nod. “I appreciate that you’re looking after her, Gigi. You’re a great friend, and knowing that she has you in her corner is comforting.”

“That’s because she’s a great fucking person, so I’ll protect her tooth and nail.”

“As you should and as she would for you.” Ulrik was great at diffusing the situation and containing her. So great that Gigi’s temper receded considerably, leaving her almost bothered that she couldn’t keep scolding him. He extended a hand toward me, and I took it, entwining my fingers with his. Then, he bowed his head a little to be closer to Gi, and said, “I won’t hurt her anymore. I promise you that.” I wasn’t expecting him to look at me, but he did and professed, “I won’t hurt you again, love.”

“I know.”

We stared into each other’s eyes for a moment, his thumb grazing my hand, and it was enough to make everything else fade. The world started and ended in the cerulean blue of his irises.

A bothered sigh took me out of it, and I turned in time to see Gigi roll her eyes. “Why am I even trying… You two are so in love, it’s sickening.”

Ulrik chuckled as I let out an embarrassed laugh. A lot had transpired from our words and actions, but we’d never really taken the step of professing those three words to one another. It didn’t make Gigi’s statement any less true, though.

Unbothered, she was back in the kitchen, putting away the preps she’d been working on.

“Are you ready to go?” Ulrik gently asked me, granting my hand a small squeeze.

“Uh, almost. I need to get my overnight bag in my room and grab my coat.”

“Alright, then, Miss Connelly. Be quick before your roommate finds new reasons to come at me.”

“I’ll be fast, Mr. Westergaard.”

He gave me a small peck, grinning like an idiot, and I released him to make my way to my bedroom.

【38】The Full Tour

Ulrik held my bag with my things as we exited the apartment. “Bye, Gi,” I called into the space when I passed the door.

“Yeah, yeah… You two behave. Especially you, blondie.”

“We won’t do anything you wouldn’t,” he replied, offering me a smirk and a wink.

“That’s not a good thing!” Gi shouted from the apartment just as I closed the door.

“There are very few things that she wouldn’t do,” I explained with amusement.

“I had the feeling, yeah.”

Before I knew it, I found myself plastered against the wall by the door, letting out a surprised gasp. Looking up, I met Ulrik’s blue gaze.

“Hi,” he whispered with intensity.

“Hey…”

Still grinning, he slowly bent down to cover my lips with his. I immediately echoed his gesture with eagerness, tilting my face to the side to improve our alignment. It seemed he was as relieved as I was to be reunited because his hunger matched mine, greedy and demanding.

On my sides, his hands slipped into the warmth of my jacket, avidly gripping my hips to pull me onto him. My own fingers were tightened around the neatly cut hair on the back of his head or clutching the collar of his long coat.

As always, our desire for one another knew now bound, and seconds stretched as we devoured one another. I’d never get enough of this man. It was so unfair that he would live forever while I’d only have a human lifetime of him. We’d make the best of it, though.

All notions of our date vanished, and the moment became our everything. I heard my overnight bag drop from his shoulder to the floor, and my hand replaced the strap, using his solid support to steady myself. Though pressed as I was against the wall, there wasn’t much need for balance.

My leg was hooked over his hip, and his strong hand slipped under my thigh to hold it there when the automatic lights of the staircase went off. The darkness we were suddenly in only encouraged us to take and give more. I released a wanton whimper, arching my back to throw my center on the hard swell behind his pants.

“I could fuck you right here,” he grunted in our kiss.

“Do it fast.”

“Fast won’t do. You have no idea how much I want you, elskling .”

“I do. I really do.”

When he tried to pull away, I grabbed onto the collar of his coat and pulled him back to me. Things heated up, with grinding and tugging, to the point where I genuinely believed we’d get it on right here, in the dark staircase of my building.

But through the foggy haze of lust, I heard the sound of the building’s door, five levels below, opening and closing. Then, behind my closed eyelids, I perceived the lights turning back on. I wasn’t the only one because Ulrik’s ministrations slowed before coming to a halt.

Disappointed, I opened my eyes as he softly let me down. The sight that greeted me had a surprised giggle bubble out of me. “Oh my God,” I said with a hand over my mouth to hide my amusement.

My lipstick was smeared all over his mouth area, which meant mine looked just as reddened and messy. He didn’t seem sorry about that at all, though, grinning like a fool.

“Let me get some makeup remover, and then we can go,” I suggested, pushing against his torso to free myself from his caging stance.

I fished my keys out of my bag, reopened the door, and entered the apartment once more. “Did you forget something?” Gigi asked before she could even see me.

When I came into her view, her eyes widened at the state of my lipstick, and she rolled her eyes, struggling to hide her grin. “You two are ridiculous, you know that?”

“Yeah, we do,” I agreed on my way to my room. There, I grabbed a cotton pad, doused it in makeup remover, and used the mirror to clean myself up. Once I was smear-free, I prepared a second pad and returned outside.

“Enjoy your evening,” Gigi said. “Though by the looks of it, your date is promising.”

“Yeah, I don’t think we’ll be bored at any point. Bye, Gi!”

Once I was outside, I used the pad on Ulrik to clean him up, and we soon were on our way down.

“So, what’s the plan?” I asked once we were seated in his car.

“Well, you still want to see my place?”

“Of course.”

“Perfect. I have dinner simmering there.”

Ugh, I was almost as excited to try his amazing cooking skills again as I was for the sex.

On our way to his place, I asked him about his brief trip to Oslo. He explained that he had been arranging a few so that he could relocate to London until further notice. For now, he would work from his home office, but if there ever was a need for more, he would rent or purchase a floor in London’s business area and move his team over here or assemble a new one.

“That sounds like a lot of work,” I pointed out.

“I don’t mind doing it. I’m used to moving a lot, so this isn’t as inconvenient as you might think.”

“Oh, right. How are your business partners feeling about this move?”

“They don’t really have a say in it regardless, but I am already all over the globe on a general basis, so whether I stay in Oslo or London doesn’t really change your thing for them.”

“I suppose London is also a more accessible destination, isn’t it ?”

“That doesn’t really matter when one generally uses private jets.”

“God, I keep forgetting you’re filthy rich.”

“It would be weird if I weren’t, wouldn’t it? Imagine living for over eleven centuries and still not having that sorted out.”

“That makes sense, yes.”

Being reminded of his wealth helped prepare me for the kind of house he had here in London. But still, I didn’t expect what was essentially a manor in the heart of London’s most expensive neighborhood. It stood out from the rest, painted in pristine white, with tall columns and bow windows. The front facade was adorned with many windows, although I wouldn’t see it all because of the lush junipers that surrounded the yard.

Ulrik drove into a narrow paved alley to the left of it, leading us to what must have been the stables, now turned garage.

“Have you owned this place for a long time?”

“I had it built back in 1732,” he explained, switching off the engine.

“It looks like you weren’t worried about the windows tax.”

“I’ve had this money thing sorted for a while. Stay,” he commanded before exiting the car.

I watched him through the windshield as he went around the car and held back a giggle when he opened the door on my side. “My lady,” he said cordially, inviting me to step out.

I took the hand he gallantly offered and stepped out. Because he was apparently determined to be a gentleman, he then offered me his arm for me to take. I slipped mine in there and let him lead me toward the house.

The main door up a few steps was twice my height, a dark wooden panel encased in the white facade. Ulrik took out a set of keys from his coat’s pocket and opened it. He invited me in first and flicked the lights on as he followed.

The interior was just as grand and classy as the exterior, and I silently took the space in for several seconds. It was beautifully decorated with a lot of taste and a good eye, but it didn’t look like his apartment in Oslo or his home in Trondheim. While the two other places had a very modern touch to them, with sleek furniture and contemporary materials, as well as art from this century, this place had a more traditional vibe to it, a timeless kind of elegance.

The entrance hall we were standing in LED to four different rooms to our left and right, and a massive double staircase led to the upper floor in front of us. The floors had intricate designs cut into colored marbles, and on the walls was blue wallpaper with scenes of birds and trees.

Ulrik helped me out of my jacket, capturing my attention, so I looked away from the room to meet his eyes.

“This place is a little…dated,” he explained with a wince. “I never stay long enough to see a need for renovations. Like I told you, I rarely stay in London for more than a few days at a time. But since I’m moving in, and because you will probably spend a great deal of time here, I was thinking it might be time to redecorate.”

“I kind of like it,” I confessed. “At least so far.” I pointed to my face and added, “Historian over here, remember? I like old stuff.”

“Luckily for me, you do.” That one deserved a reward, so I rose to my tiptoes and gave him a peck for the joke. “Come, love, I’ll give you the full tour.”

Once again, he offered me his arm, and I took it. For the next twenty minutes, he led me through the house, allowing me to explore every room we stepped into. It was an odd mix of new and old, like a family house that still held something from every generation that had lived in it. In his office, for instance, the massive mahogany desk was obviously an antique, but the chair behind it was an artful piece of modern furniture. The same went for the decorations, with the wallpaper often looking centuries old while the curtains were much more recent.

Something about this house called to me a lot more than the other ones had so far. It was a perfect representation of him, with centuries stacked up together to create this perfectly balanced harmony.

He allowed me a little longer in the library, which was stacked from floor to ceiling with thousands of books. The kitchen was the most modernized room in the whole house. Ulrik explained to me that he’d had it remodeled for Yuko so that she wouldn’t have to battle with an old stone and appliances that would only make work harder. Whoever had worked on it had kept some elements of the old kitchen, though, like the collection of cast iron pans hanging on one of the walls or an assortment of copper molds on another.

When we walked through a corridor full of portraits, I recognized the blue stare on one of them and stopped. It was him, dressed in what must have been a general’s uniform. With the beard and wig, I ventured not many people would have recognized him. Or maybe they would have imagined the man depicted was an ancestor who uncannily looked like him. But I knew better.

“Which war was that?.”

“Probably against France. I made sure never to partake in the wars England waged against countries that stood no chance. They didn’t need me for that, and I took no pleasure in participating in an unfair massacre.”

“Very commendable of you. Did you ever have British nobility titles for your heroic actions?”

“A few times. I was a baron, a viscount, and even went as high as an early once.”

“That’s…amazing.”

He shrugged in a way that was unfazed more than humble. “I easily get bored, so I often find myself amidst exciting or thrilling adventures. War requires no courage when you can’t die.”

“Did you participate because you enjoyed it, then?” I wondered, slightly worried.

“No, I did it because I was good at it. I was born in a land of warriors, and I knew no fears. Also, I was a trained physician, which was always handy on the battlefield and allowed me to help many wounded soldiers.”

“Wait, really? You’re a doctor?”

“I haven’t really been since the 60s. I’m not versed in modern practices, but I knew as much as one could back then.”

All this talk of war caused another question to take root and grow in the back of my mind. It lingered there as we continued our way down the corridor, swelling to the point where I became physically incapable of holding it back. I stopped, forcing him to halt his pace as well.

“During the Second World War, did you…” I hesitated, unsure how to formulate my interrogations. But between his Germanic roots and the way he looked, it was fair of me to question if he’s been on the side of the Allies or the Axis.

“You’re wondering which side I was on?” he continued for me.

I nodded, uneasy. If it turned out that he’d been an SS officer, I would have to turn around and leave. There was nothing that could justify that, and I couldn’t see myself with such a person.

Ulrik’s expression was unreadable as he crossed his muscular arms and leaned against a wall, his piercing eyes planted on me. “What do you think, Mila?”

I hesitated. My goal wasn’t to offend him, but suggesting that he’d participate in a mass genocide wasn’t a good look. “I think,” I carefully started, “that you’re tall and blonde, with blue eyes, and you have strong Germanic roots. But everything I know about you tells me that you are deeply empathetic, a defender of the weak, and a protector of the oppressed.”

“So? Which side was I on?”

“The…good one?” I winced.

I knew I was right when a luminous smile claimed his lush lips. “I was. Just like I was on the right side of history during your Civil War.”

“You fought in the Civil War?!”

“I did. Now, let’s continue. You haven’t seen the best room yet.”

“Which is?”

“The master bedroom.”

We’d done great so far not jumping one another, but his wink told me we might give in as soon as his bed was in sight. And as much as I wanted that, I was starting to be too hungry for sex—which was absolutely a thing.

“Nice try, Norseman,” I said, going back to the grand staircase instead of following him further into the corridor. “That’ll be the last stop this evening, or it’ll be the only stop. Now, you told me you had a bottle of wine older than me waiting. Let’s honor it, shall we?”

He chuckled and shook his head but didn’t insist on continuing with the tour. Instead, he followed me down the hallway and slipped a hand around my waist to bring me closer and give my temple an amorous kiss.

Tonight was only the first of many nights in this house. I could feel it in my bones.

【39】Can You Get Sick

It was no surprise that the wine was delicious, as well as dinner. He’d opened with a tasty French onion soup, a flavorful start to the meal featuring caramelized onions in a beefy broth, topped with melted Gruyère cheese and toasted baguette slices. Then, he’d brought out a beef Wellington—tender beef tenderloin coated with mushrooms, wrapped in Parma ham, and encased in flaky puff pastry—to celebrate being in London together.

It was all delicious, but I made sure not to overeat. There was no way I’d let bloating come in the way of the rest of my evening with him. I had to be on my A-game.

When he left the table to go grab the dessert, I quickly rushed to a mirror. We were in a formal dinner room with a table long enough to host twenty people. Thankfully, Ulrik had put us both in the middle, without much distance between us, rather than on each extremity. I fluffed my hair and cleaned up the corner of my eyes where the eyeliner was smudging a little. I was just done when he returned with a glass dish and something creamy inside.

“I was feeling a little sentimental, so I made us tiramisu,” he explained.

I smiled at that. We’d shared one after our evening at the Italian restaurant near Trondheim’s airport. “Is yours as good as that one?” I wondered.

He settled the dish down on his side so he could serve each of us a portion. “It normally is, but I didn’t have to bake the ladyfingers myself, I’m afraid.”

“That’s the perfect excuse to make another tiramisu in the near future.

He chuckled and met my gaze. “Before we have dessert, there’s something I want to give you, darling.”

“Oh?”

“Something you forgot in Norway.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant, so I merely gave him a nod. It was all he needed to head over to a chest of drawers. He opened it, pulled out a flat box, and returned with it.

Given the size of the velvety box, I knew what was inside before he even opened it. The Viking jewelry he’d bought for me.

Something in me felt compelled to protest. “Ulrik, it’s still too much.”

“It’s not. See it as someone giving you a traditional piece from their country. This is part of my history, and I want to share it with you. It pleases me to see it on you.

Now that I knew the truth about him and his life, it didn’t feel as wrong that he would own such a piece and dispose of it as he wished. He wasn’t just a bored millionaire who purchased priceless artifacts for fun. He was a Viking who aimed to preserve and celebrate his origins.

He must have sensed that my mind wasn’t made up because he set the box on the table and took out the necklace before coming behind me.

“You can’t imagine how much I want to cover you with gifts and attention. This is me holding back, so please, quit being so stubborn and accept it, alright?

He easily fastened the beautiful piece of jewelry on the back of my neck and came back for the bracelet. Wordlessly, I extended my hand toward him, silently accepting his ludicrous gift once and for all.

He rewarded me with a “good girl” and a soft kiss on my parted lips. “Now, dessert, and then we finish the tour.”

“Yes, I can’t wait to discover the master bedroom,” I teased.

Just as eager as I was, Ulrik scooped a generous serving of tiramisu and placed it on a plate. When he gestured for another one, I stopped him. “No, we share,” I suggested. “Like last time.”

“I like the way you think, Miss Connelly.”

He wasn’t very good at thinking my way, though, because he sat on his chair and pushed the plate toward the center of the table, expecting me to go back to my seat. Oh no, I wasn’t doing that.

Surprising him, I endeavored to sit on his lap himself. He quickly got the memo and pushed his chair back to make enough room for me. Once I was settled on him, he gave me a contented smirk and softly rearranged a loose strand under my ear. “Even better,” he approved, wrapping his arm around my back and resting his hand on my hip.

I grabbed the plate, his spoon, and settled comfortably on him, wriggling to get closer. His eyes were on me as I scooped a corner of the dessert, and they followed my gestures as I brought it to my lips. The airy creaminess coated my tongue, and the perfect blend of coffee, chocolate, and sugar had my tastebuds palpitating.

“Hmm…” I moaned, enchanted by the flavors.

“That good?” he chuckled.

“Yeah? You severely undersold it. This is delicious.”

“I did purchase the good kind of biscuits. And I made it before leaving for Oslo, so it’s been sitting in the fridge for a couple of days, which is the right way to do it.”

“Well, it’s perfect.” I prepared another spoon, and when I brought it toward me again, he raised an eyebrow at me.

“Weren’t we meant to share it?”

Because I was nearly there already, I brought the spoon halfway into my mouth, took half of its contents, and then offered him the rest. He didn’t even hesitate before opening up and welcoming the dessert in.

More bites knew the same fate until I got distracted by his closeness. In my back, along my spine, his fingers were tracing up and down the seam of my dress, sometimes playing with the zipper, pulling it down and up. He looked content. Remarkably so. His handsome face was inches from mine, his features relaxed and serene, as if my presence on his lap was comforting. And I could sympathize with that because being pressed against him also had my body relaxing and my chest swelling. Especially since I was so close to his remarkably alluring face. I should have guessed that he was a demigod. He was too perfect to be all human. And I was too human not to get sucked into his aura and beauty.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he softly asked.

“I was wondering how many people have fallen in love with this face.”

He didn’t answer right away, but his hand came up to graze my hair and temple. “Very few have been loved back,” he ended up saying.

“You’ve broken many hearts, haven’t you?”

“They got over it. And a lot faster than I do any time I lose a loved one to old age.”

Overwhelmed by his words, I put the plate back on the table and framed his face with my hands. “In the end, I’ll hurt you infinitely more than you ever hurt me.”

His eyes traveled between both of mine, intense and compelling. “It’ll be worth it. I’ve never been more certain of something in my life.”

“I’ll make it worth it. I promise.”

The kiss that followed was a promise, a seal. It was as poignant as it was intense, and we held on to one another with all the passion we harbored. Although it started romantic, things seamlessly turned erotic, and I found myself adjusting on top of him, pressing my thigh right onto his hardness. He groaned in our kiss before tugging me even closer, his hips thrusting up under me. Then, he tangled his hand in my hair to mash our lips harder so he could devour me. His tongue turned bold and demanding, barely allowing mine to reciprocate. The man hadn’t gotten anything since I’d left Norway, not even some self-indulgence, so I ventured he was starving for sex, for release.

The reasonable opening of our evening was over, and I was done trying to contain my desire for him. When I struggled to pass my leg to the other side of him, he assisted me until I was straddling his sitting body. Kissing him became easier, and I reclaimed some of the authority, leading the pace while he received it from under me. The heated spot between my legs was now pressed right onto his erection, and when his big hands grabbed my ass, I began slowly writhing onto him. Soon, he’d be inside me again, ravaging me with deep and mighty thrusts.

God, I couldn’t wait for it.

“Ulrik, baby…” I moaned, ripping my lips away from his. “I’ve been wondering if—Ah, fuck!”

His warm and wet tongue traced a fiery path down my throat. Behind me, his hand came up to the zipper, which he began slowly pulling down.

“Can you—can you get sick?”

He shook his head, mirroring his earlier gesture on the other side of my neck after he’d explored the exposed upper half of my chest.

“So, you can’t catch a disease?”

Since he was out of skin to kiss and nibble, he met my eyes. “No, I can’t. Why?”

The hunger in his eyes didn’t match the tenderness with which he pushed the sleeves of my dress down. Especially not when my breasts were freed and his gaze turned ravenous.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he mumbled in Norwegian.

He observed the way my nipples tightened in the cool air of the room, fascinated. Then, like a man possessed, he bent down and caught a perky tip with his mouth. I lost track of my thoughts, a hand flying to his dark blond hair and the other grabbing his shoulder. But I held on to the question I was burning to ask and continued despite the deft teasing of his tongue and teeth.

“Ulrik, if you can’t catch a disease or be ill, then you can’t carry one, right?”

His gestures froze as he finally understood what I had in mind. After some brief seconds of stupor, he released my nipple to look up. “You want me to fuck you raw?” he asked, his voice low and raspy, altered by pure lust.

“Well, I—I’ve never had a sexual infection before, not that it would matter since you wouldn’t catch it. And if you can’t give me one either, I don’t see why we couldn’t…have unprotected sex.”

“So, you want me to fuck you raw?” he repeated.

“I’ve been wanting that for a while. And now that I know you can’t pass anything to me, I really, really want that.”

“Condoms were never for STIs. It’s to prevent—”

“I know. I have an implant,” I explained, showing him the spot in my arm where he’d feel the little device if he wanted to check. “I understand children are something you avoid, but I’m on birth control. And even if—even if it failed, I wouldn’t have a child behind your back or force you into it. I’d respect your wishes, Ulrik. I swear.”

While he pondered, he stared at the spot where the implant was as if he could see through my skin and wage it. Adamant to win this one, I grabbed his face again, pushing my exposed breasts together, and covered his face with small pecks.

“I want to feel you inside me without anything between us, Norseman. I want your skin against mine. I want you to give me everything. Every last drop of your cum belongs inside me, Ulrik.”

There was no need for more. My words effortlessly won him over, and he reclaimed my lips with fervor. One of his hands was grabbing onto my ass, pulling me onto his hard length, and the other was between us, toying with my nipples alternatively.

“Take me upstairs,” I moaned, lowering to lay adamant pecks on his neck.

“It’s too late for that, now,” he growled.

I wasn’t sure what he meant until he swept everything on the table behind me with a hurried gesture, holding me close. Glasses and cutlery went flying, some of it ending on the floor. At least one thing broke, but I was too busy returning his urgent kiss to check it out. My fingers trembled with need as I tugged on his knitted turtleneck, wanting him as undressed as I was. Ulrik didn’t share that need because he hoisted me up on the table, stopping my endeavor altogether.

He, however, was determined to get me naked, so he shoved my dress lower, and when the table came in the way, I lifted myself, letting him remove it completely. In nothing but my thong and high heels, I sat there panting and feeling hot despite the cold wood under me. And he clearly loved the view, given how he reached for his erection to give it a pinch over the fabric of his pants.

“Did you cancel your plans for the weekend?” he gravely asked.

“Yes. And Gigi knows I’m spending it here.”

“Good.” Still focused on my face, eyes planted in mine as if he could stare into my soul, he slipped his fingers on the elastic sides of my underwear. “Once I start fucking you again, I won’t be able to stop, love. Not for a couple of days.”

The thing was now off, so he rolled it in his palm and inhaled it, fixated on the drenched folds of my intimacy.

“Yes, I know,” I breathed out. “I remember your stamina. Although…”

“Although what?”

“Well, it was impressive when I thought you were a somewhat normal guy. But it’s kind of mild since you’re actually a demigod. I’d expect more from someone who has divine blood running in his veins. Also, someone who had over eleven centuries to perfect his technique.”

“Are you challenging me, Mila?”

“Just stating facts,” I countered with a shrug. It was so hard to keep from smiling, but I knew there would be many rewards to be reaped. Maybe too many for my own good.

Ulrika could probably tell that I was bluffing to some extent. He knew I was bratty, so he knew exactly what I was doing. He played along, though maintaining a very composed and serious face.

“Alright, then. I’ll fuck you like a demigod, Miss Connelly. Then we’ll see if you feel the need to open your mouth again. Though you might have a sore throat once I’m done with you. Gotta give this pretty little cunt some rest here and there. Or maybe you’d let me into your perfect ass.”

Oh, crap… Already, I regretted poking the beast within him.

But I didn’t have time to reflect on my actions because he dove in, bringing his face between my legs and licking up the wet expanse of my sex.

Oh, well… I’d repent for my taunting once I was spent and thoroughly fucked.

【40】Captured my Heart

The instant his wet tongue traced the drenched opening of my pussy, an electric jolt shook my entire body, spawning from where he was licking. Shamelessly needy, I arched my back and shoved myself harder into him, demanding more than the teasing lick.

He gave me another one, firmer, and my hand traveled south of its own to tangle into his silky hair. God, it felt amazing. Being sprawled there while he enjoyed me like a second dessert, the reminder of how good he was inflicting pleasure, knowing there would be more of it in the future… It was spectacular.

“You still taste fucking spectacular, skaat ,” he appreciatively mumbled, his hot breath rippling over my sensitive folds. His hands were high on my thighs, holding me firmly as he ate me out, rough fingers digging into the malleable flesh.

The pointed tip of his tongue drew a precise circle around my clit, and the rippling pleasure had me releasing a breathy moan. When he began sucking on it, I whimpered his name. Seconds stretched, his pace unhurried but determined, and pleasure gathered within my core, building up, and up, and up. It became dangerously close when his hands skated up my sides to cup my breasts, fondling them and pinching my nipples with just the right amount of pressure.

He must have noticed that I was seconds away from my release because his efforts doubled in intensity. But I didn’t want to come. Not like this.

“Ulrik,” I protested, pushing against his head to dislodge it from between my legs. “Ulrik, stop.”

To my relief, he complied and backed up to meet my eyes. “What?”

“I want you inside me when I come. I want to be full of you.”

“You were always so fucking greedy…,” he replied with a smirk. To my delight, he stood up and tugged on his sweater to remove it. “First my sword, now my cock.”

“As long as I get your cock, you can keep the sword.”

“Oh, don’t worry, love. From now on, you have unlimited access to my cock.”

I lifted myself up on my elbows to admire as he undressed, revealing the tattoos adorning his skin. Something pulsed low in me when he reached for his belt, kicking his shoes out at his feet. His hips came in the way when I attempted to press my knees together. I could see the hard length straining in his pants, and every part of me longed to feel it inside me again. I craved the stretch, the depth, the fulfillment…

My mouth literally watered when he shoved his pants down, exposing his massive erection to my sight. He was so hard it was angled up, angry vein bulging sinuously under the delicate skin, the hot pink tip poking out. He bent lower to remove it all, as well as his socks, and straightened in front of me again, towering over me with his imposing silhouette.

It was in moments like these that I felt the most stupid for not guessing. Of course, he was a demigod. Humans could never be this perfect. “Look at how pretty you are,” he nearly purred, coming closer to settle between my parted legs. I lifted my knees to hook them on his sides and lowered back onto the cool wood of the table.

Ulrik reached down to grab the base of him, and like the teasing asshole he was, he dragged his round head over my sensitive flesh. Jolts of electrifying pleasure shot through me every time he pressed against my sensitive clit.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he appreciatively let out. “Always drenched for me, always starving from my cock.”

“And you’re always so hard for me. Always dying to bury yourself inside me.”

I saw the way his jaw ticked, his eyes ravenous and dark. “Damn right, I am.”

My back arched on its own when he aligned himself with my entrance, and with a slow but firm thrust, he sank inside me.

“Oh, God,” I moaned, sensing my walls already clamping around his girth.

I’d almost forgotten how big he was, how welcoming him bordered on pain despite being the most satisfying thing I’d ever experienced. His dick was made for me, made to reach the deepest confines of my being—body and mind.

He didn’t stop until he was fully buried in me and his tip met the end of me. And then he pulled back, slowly, only to dive back in.

“Fuck you feel good. I almost forgot how warm you are. How tight you feel around me.”

“That’s because you’re huge,” I whimpered.

His pace was full of restraint, in and out slowly, allowing us some time to enjoy the sensation and be reacquainted with ourselves. From my venture point, all I could see was the upper part of his magnificent body, the tattoos that adorned his skin, the defined muscles rippling underneath it with every move. The sight alone could be enough to make me tilt.

From where he stood, though, he could see all of me, and his eyes seemed to enjoy the spectacle, often looking down to where we joined. I would have bet his cock was drenched with my arousal, wet and shiny in the warm glow of the chandelier.

“When you left,” he gravely started, still slowly fucking into me, “I thought I’d lost you for good. I thought I’d never get to hear your laugh again, never get to hear my name from your lips, never get to be inside you… But here we are. Too fucking obsessed with one another to even reach the bedroom.”

He must have decided that this position wasn’t enough anymore because he lowered against me, plastering his strong body over mine to claim my lips. While I didn’t have the splendid view anymore, I much preferred this. It was more intimate, more sentimental. We kissed languorously, amorously, while he kept up the measured space of our lovemaking.

My legs were wrapped around him, my knees high on his ribs so that he could take all of me with every thrust. Every time he bottomed out, he gave his hips a small but crucial twist, making the base of him press and drag across my clit. Each of my moans and cries was swallowed by his eager lips, muffled by the warmth of his tongue exploring my mouth.

“Ulrik,” I moaned, sensing pleasure building up and up in my whole body.

His rhythm was slowly increasing, the mighty shoves making me spring up and down under him. I was getting dangerously close to my release, but something told me he wasn’t there yet.

When he lifted himself up just enough to gaze down at me, leaning on his elbows onto the wood, I lost myself in his mesmerizing eyes. Had I even encountered a man as handsome as he was? There was no question about him being the most interesting being I had ever and would ever meet. But that much beauty didn’t belong among us mortals. It was too much for someone like me to handle.

“I’ve missed you, Mila,” he professed, still thrusting. “All of you, from your happiest smiles to your angriest scowls. I’ve missed the nerdy exchanges and bold flirting. And I’ve missed your docile neediness just as much as your bratty stubbornness. But most of all, I’ve missed being around you and basking in your unique aura. You’ve altered my brain chemistry in a way you can’t even fathom, darling. Losing you was one of the stupidest things I’ve done in my eleven centuries of existence.”

“I’ve missed you too. I tried not to. I tried to get over you, to forget about my feelings, to move on… But you’ve captured my heart and my soul. They belong to you—they have from day one, I think.”

His elated smile was contagious, but the following kiss had our lips too busy for that.

I kept him close to me, with a hand on his firm ass and one clasped on the back of his neck. God, I loved him. So much. And I loved the person I was with him, too. He’d altered my brain as well, rearranged it so all of it was wired toward him, all my thoughts, needs, and desires.

“Ulrik, I—I’m gonna come,” I whimpered into our kiss, sensing my insides spasming around him.

“I know. Come for me, my love. Show me how much you’ve missed this.”

He changed something in the way he was taking me, but not in a manner that slowed my climb or pushed my orgasm back. No, he made it better, keeping up with his pace but hitting against my clit harder, going deeper with every shove.

And, helpless, I shattered in a way that was stronger than anything I remembered, and I wondered if it was because I knew everything now. I knew who he was, and it was even more thrilling than the mystery he’d always been. This man was Haakon Odinson, a Viking Berserker, the godly son of Odin. And he desperately wanted to be mine.

Just as much as I longed to be his.

The first wave of ecstasy wrecked me, electrifying every single nerve ending inside me. In the midst of it, something inside me clicked. I was ready. Ready to accept all of him, all his past, all his story. I loved him whole, what I knew as much as what I didn’t yet. I was finally ready to embrace who he was deep down, at his very core.

“Haakon!” I cried out, my nails digging into the firm skin of his shoulders while he plowed into me.

I witnessed the surprise in his eyes, sensed the way it shook him to his core, and felt the way his body responded to the name, his name. Distraught, he held me closer, punching into me with fervor, his contained pace now disorganized. It only propelled me deeper into pleasure, my soul reveling in the spectacle of him losing control.

A low and guttural sound rumbled in his throat, and I sensed the way he pulsed inside me before the first spurt of his own climax shot into me. His forehead was pushed onto my collarbone, his body hunched over mine. I held onto him tightly as we came together, our skins sweaty and frames convulsing with jerks of pleasure, his cock buried so deep inside me that I could feel him nearly all the way to my navel.

I could sense each hot jet of cum that came out of him right against the door of my womb and focused on that rather than the waves of pleasure that didn’t want to relent. This was him trusting me, pouring every last drop of his godly seed in my pussy despite centuries of fearing what could come out of this.

When I’d promised I’d do right by him if my birth control failed, I’d meant it. Now that I knew his life and what it must have been like, I’d never force him into something he wouldn’t want. But he’d expressed that he might be open to doing this for me, and it meant so much more than I’d ever fathom.

As he whimpered and jolted on top of me, giving me everything he had, I imagined his pleasure taking root in my core, igniting a small and fragile life that would grow within me. The perfect mix of us both, a tiny being with his godly genes…

And for the first time in my life, it didn’t scare me. Having his child didn’t feel wrong. Not like the few times I’d found myself pregnant. And that, in itself, told me everything I needed to know about our future. In my bones, I knew that he wasn’t temporary.

He was my present as much as my future.

So slowly that I barely realized it, the pleasure faded away, leaving nothing but sweat, shivers, and breathless pants in its wake. Ulrik’s body grew heavier on me, but I didn’t care. I loved having his weight like that because it helped contain the countless emotions wreaking havoc in my chest.

“Jesus Christ,” I breathed out, still not over how intense the experience had been.

“Fucking hell, woman… Looks like my given name on your lips is my weakness.”

“I think I, as a whole, am your weakness.”

He chuckled, softly shaking on top and inside me. “Yeah, I think that’s it. Only you can do this to me.”

When he looked up, I was smiling with delight at his admission. His hand trembled slightly when he reached up, and the softness of it undid me when he caressed away the sweaty tendrils of my hair caught on my forehead and temple. There was something in his gaze that was undoubtedly loving, and I was pretty sure he could read just the same thing in mine.

“I know over a hundred languages, but not a single word among them would be enough to describe the way you make me feel, elskling .”

I giggled, torn between adoration and embarrassment. “You just gave me the best orgasm of my life. No need to flex. I’m conquered, Ulrik.”

I hadn’t thought anything of it, but using the other name had his eyebrows twitching in the faintest way, disclosing the way he felt about it. I laid a hand over his sharp jaw in a comforting way and lifted my head enough to get closer to his bluest of eyes. “There’s a transition process,” I softly explained. “Just give me some time to get used to it, okay?”

After a couple of seconds had passed, he nodded. Then, he gave me a deep and longing kiss, making my walls pulse one last time around his shaft still inside me.

Having found back his energy, he pulled himself up, leaving me alone against the table, and pulled out of my overworked pussy. When he pulled the chair behind him closer, I rose to my elbows in confusion.

“You already need a break?” I asked. “See? This is what I meant about having human stamina.”

“I’m not taking a break. I’m enjoying the show.”

Entirely naked and still sporting an erection—which was drenched in our mixed releases—he sat on the chair. It was only when he grabbed my ankles to set my feet on the ends of the armrests that I understood what he meant. Oh, that man was wicked…

“Would you like a pair of stirrups, maybe?” I asked, sensing a rush of heat claiming my cheeks.

“I’m good. Now, stop talking. Let me focus.”

Maybe it was a little weird, but I didn’t care. Not when my entire body was still reeling from the fucking incredible orgasm he’d just given me. So, still struggling to catch my breath, leaned back and stared up at the chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

If I hadn’t felt the first rush of cum that sept out of me, his appreciative “Hmm” would have given it away. I then felt it slowly make its way down, all the way to the wood of the table, where it pooled under me. I wasn’t shy when it came to sex, but this was a lot for me.

I let out a small, disconcerted giggle, and that only made more of him pour out of me. “Oh, God…”

“So fucking perfect,” he murmured, his hawk eyes still planted on that drenched spot between my legs.

“You’re so shameless,” I breathed out.

“And yet, you’re the one sprawled there, giving me a private performance.”

When I tried to bring my knees together, he stopped me with firm hands. “No, let me see. I’ve always found your cunt beautiful, but seeing it full of my cum is spectacular.”

“Then why don’t you fuck it some more?” I tried in an attempt to put an end to this moment. I felt more exposed than I’d ever been, and while I didn’t hate it, I wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“In a minute, you needy little brat. Let an old man enjoy the finer things of life first, yeah?”

I laughed once more, and goddamn, I needed to stop doing that because it pushed his cum out somehow.

“Alright, you’ve seen enough,” I decided, using my wobbly arms to push myself up.

Before he could stop me, I removed my feet from the armrests and slipped down from the table, only to straddle him on the chair.

“Take me to your bed and prove to me that you have inhumane stamina, Haakon . Because right now, it looks a lot like you’re using this as an excuse to take a break.”

His hands were already on me, grazing the humid skin along my ribs with tenderness. “I’ll make you regret those words, Jamila.”

Just to shut him up, I kissed him, demanding and adamant. And he let me, just as greedy.

We had the whole weekend ahead of us, but something told me tonight would be enough for him to prove his point. And something else told me it still wouldn’t be enough for me to learn my lesson.