When I die, if this is the man who greets me at the Gates of Death, I shall not be afraid. However, I might make a deal with the devil to try and tempt this man away from his post.
He reminds me of Heimdallr, waiting for the beginning of Ragnarok where the flaming rainbow bridge meets the bridge to Valhalla. He stands still and stoic, his eyes haunted by the tragedy of knowing the fate of the humans he watches over. But I am dead, beyond that now, though I know he is sad for me as well. I’d give up my place as one of Valhalla’s warrior women for a chance at the best pleasure I could ever attain.
Our eyes would meet and he would explain carefully that I could view my loved ones once more before walking onto Odin and his warriors. But I’d already said my goodbyes and so I would walk closer and touch his face. Though his eyes would not close in pleasure, you could see his body tremble. How long has it been since anyone, let alone a woman like me, touched him? Eons, I’d imagine.
He does not stop me from walking closer and placing my left hand on his left side, right above where his hips are concealed in leather. I gasp at how warm he feels, like his skin is on fire. Or is it because I’m so cold? I don’t know, but I know that I want that warmth. I walk around him and place my hands evenly on his hips where they narrow. My breasts press into his back and I feel his deep, shuddering breath of control slip out. What would he do if we had forever? If he lost that control?
“I bet,” I whisper in his ear, “that your sword isn’t compensating for anything at all. Do you want to show me?” My breath would hitch at the end of the sentence. My fingers would press into his hips and slowly sink past that leather. I would be the strongest temptation he’s ever been presented with and he wouldn’t be sure he could stand it.
My fingers would be met with springy, soft curls and more warmth than I was already feeling. Sinking my fingers into those curls, I’d close my mouth around the bottom of his ear and lightly drag my teeth back and forth down the lobe. I release his ear and breathe into it hotly. “You know you belong deep in my pussy. Where do you end and I begin, my warrior? Do you even know?” And sinking my hands even further to grasp the hard length, I would win my first challenge in Valhalla. This beautiful, stoic guardian of the end of the world would be mine.