When reaching my door, Odin opens it for me to go into the room first, everything is the same. Nothing has changed, but the smell seems to hold the scent of my mother and father. How much time do they spend in here?
Odin drops our bags near the bed before he starts to pull off his shirt, "I'm going to take a quick shower." Odin seems as if he can't wait to wash away the day from his body.
When the water turns on, I take off my clothes to look through my drawer for a baggy shirt and new underwear. Looking at my desk that holds my old loose papers, drawing of plants, dried herbs remain in the glass jars. Even the labels on them seem not to be the way I write anymore. Lingering over my possessions that I thought were the most important things I owned, don't have the meaning of importance they used to have.
Slipping into the comfort of my bed, it seems different to me, not as comfortable as I remembered. The sound of the shower turns off, and within a few minutes, Odin emerges from the steam filled room. There is an urge to suck in a breath and to look away from what's in front of me. Odin's bare chest still damp, his hair is wet, the ends dripping water down the canvas of his skin. The path of water is hidden in the artwork that I've come to appreciate on him.
The towel clings to the tight line of his waist; thick thighs etched in ink peek out of the bottom. I can see the bulge of him, how hard Odin is already and he's not even laying beside me. He has limitations, and it's my job to see his limits aren't crossed. Yet, my limits are slipping away the longer my eyes linger over flesh that I want, no need to feel flush against me.
A pulse starts to throb between my legs, as the blood engorges, blooming my sex to life. The pleasure of it makes me understand that I have needs, and wants that are limitless. A hard beat of my heart starts up because he's taken a step closer to the edge of the bed.
When his towel drops away, I pause.
Everything stops but the rush, my entire body taking in a full grown male Alpha. His lips curl in a way that is Odin, it's what I secretly desire to see across his face. If I don't turn away now, I won't be able too later.
Turning from him, making him understand that he has to sleep in the little bed my dad set up for him in the corner. I try to make it look as if the bed is too small for the both of us. It's not; my bed is bigger than ours at home. Odin's fingers touch the base of my neck where the first spine of bone starts.
"The bed's not big big enough for the both of us, Odin." Pulling the covers over my nose. "I'll make it work for us," as the last word is out the covers begin to be pulled down. His body shifts the mattress underneath me. The headboard bumps the wall lightly with his deliberate movement. Until I am lifted to lay flush against his chest. The musculature of him is felt entirely through my thin shirt.
"Do you know how long I've been dreaming of this?" Odin's confession softly nestles its breath against my temple. His hips shift upwards, and I feel the heat of him soaks between my legs. My nipples hardening, aching to feel a hand, a mouth on them.
Pressing my body into him more, lifting my head up. There is an unconscious thought that flashes through my mind; I shouldn't be doing this underneath my parent's roof. That thought gets pushed to the side as a new delicious thought takes over. A warm palm slips underneath my loose shirt, tracing ribs that line my chest upwards.
A shiver passes through me, a tremor shuffles the first layering of his skin before settling back down.
Lifting myself off his chest but not off his rigid length, my eyes aren't focused on his face but on a neck, a clavicle that I trace with my finger. My palms are feeling every dip and carved outline of muscle. His torso's tightness is not missed by greedy hands that are making their way downward. The need to feel everything he has is making the saliva at the back of my throat pool with anticipation. I can smell him, the dark deepness of fertile soil is making me want to lick him. Taste his flesh the way he likes to taste mine. Leaning down, letting my tongue circle around a hard nipple, he flexes upwards and moans low in the base of his throat. My hips push themselves into his making me spread my legs further apart to feel him between me.
