Chapter 319: Thora Rides the Debt (2)

Thora sank onto him in one controlled motion until he was buried to the hilt.

The familiar heat pulled a rough sound out of Kane’s chest.

She stayed there for a breath, adjusting, letting both of them feel the stretch and the depth, then began to move.

Short, rolling thrusts of her hips kept him deep without demanding the kind of range that would tear at his ribs.

The sound of it filled the quiet room, skin meeting skin, her breath hitching each time she dropped her weight fully onto him.

"Like that," she muttered, already a little unsteady.

"You just stay still. I’ve got this."

Kane’s good hand gripped her hip hard enough to leave marks, not guiding, just holding on.

Thora set a steady rhythm, rising until only the head of him remained inside her, then sinking again with deliberate force.

Her breasts moved with every stroke, still flushed from his mouth.

She braced one hand on the mattress beside his head and used the other to keep her balance, careful of the brace and the bandaged ribs even while she took what she wanted.

"Missed... this," she said between breaths.

"Missed how big you are when you’ve been gone too long. Missed the way you look at me like you’re trying not to break something."

Kane’s voice came out strained.

"You’re not making the not-breaking part easy."

Thora’s mouth curved.

She ground down harder on the next stroke, circling her hips so the head of him rubbed deep inside her.

"Good. I didn’t wait weeks for easy."

She kept riding him with focused, possessive intensity, never fast enough to turn reckless, never slow enough to let him recover.

"Hah... hah..."

Every downward thrust forced a low sound out of one or both of them.

Sweat began to sheen across her collarbones and the soft curve of her stomach.

Kane watched her through half-lidded eyes, the ache in his body drowned under the heat and the sight of her taking him apart with patience and hunger.

After a stretch of that measured rhythm, he decided he had been patient long enough.

His good arm locked around her waist.

He twisted, ignoring the sharp protest from his ribs, and rolled them in one controlled motion.

Thora landed on her back with a short, surprised sound.

Kane settled between her thighs before she could push him back, hooked one of her knees over his elbow, and thrust back into her in a single deep stroke that made her arch off the bed.

"Kane—"

"My turn."

He set a harder pace, still careful of the angle the brace forced on him, but no longer content to lie still.

The new position let him go deeper.

"Ugh..."

Thora’s hands gripped his good shoulder and the sheets, legs spreading wider to take him.

The wet slap of their bodies meeting replaced the earlier rolling rhythm.

She met every thrust, heels digging into the backs of his thighs, breath breaking into short, rough sounds against his ear.

Kane leaned down until his forehead rested against hers, still moving inside her with steady, grinding force.

"Why aren’t you pregnant yet, Thora?"

Her eyes opened fully.

The heat in them flickered.

He thrust deeper, holding there.

"Give me a child."

Thora’s face darkened.

The usual hard, battlefield certainty faltered into something more complicated and raw.

Her voice came out quieter than before, almost rough with it.

"I... I wish. I want to. I really—"

She didn’t finish the sentence.

Kane kissed her before the rest of the words could turn into something that hurt.

The kiss was hard, open-mouthed, claiming.

He sucked on her tongue the way he had sucked on her breasts earlier, greedy, thorough, until she made a muffled sound into his mouth and her cunt clenched around him.

Kane pulled back only far enough to drag his mouth down the line of her jaw and settle against the side of her neck, teeth grazing, lips open against her pulse while his hips kept working between her thighs.

"Then," he said against her skin, voice low and rough, "as long as you get pregnant, I will fuck you."

He lifted his head just enough to meet her eyes again.

The smile that followed was small and real, stripping the demand of any edge that might have felt like a condition.

"Either you give a child or not, you’re my woman. That part doesn’t change. Okay?"

Thora’s throat moved.

Her hands slid up into his hair, gripping tight enough to sting.

"Clear," she managed.

"You’re still an idiot for saying it in the middle of this."

"You like me as an idiot."

"I like you inside me. The rest is negotiable."

Kane laughed once against her neck and thrust harder, grinding deep at the end of every stroke so she felt him against the spot that always made her thighs shake.

Thora’s breath fractured.

Her legs tightened around him.

The possessive heat that had started the night was still there, but underneath it something softer and more dangerous had opened, the same woman who had waited with a wine cup and a training schedule now looking at him like he had just offered her a future she had stopped letting herself count on.

He kept moving, steady and deep, mouth returning to her neck and the soft place beneath her ear.

One of her hands stayed fisted in his hair; the other dragged down his back, careful of the brace, nails leaving faint lines in their wake.

The bedframe had begun a low, protesting rhythm against the wall. Neither of them cared.

"You’re going to stay like this," Thora muttered, voice already fraying.

"You’re going to keep fucking me until I stop thinking about the days you were gone. And then you’re going to do it again when the others finally kick the door in."

Kane’s answer was another deep thrust and the scrape of his teeth against her throat.

"Understood."

He shifted his angle slightly, hooked her knee higher, and drove into her with focused intensity.

Thora met him stroke for stroke, the earlier control giving way to something hungrier and less measured.

Her cunt gripped him tightly on every withdrawal. Her breath broke into short, open sounds against his ear.