Ivar the Boneless Imagines

Why Here

No one thought that he would find another woman. Especially not so quick after Margrethe. Sigurd had made jabs that Ivar must have had threatened you to have something so pretty on his lap outside while his brothers fished in the waters. His lips were preoccupied with yours, tilting your chin in his direction while his brothers watched. He knew that their little fishing venture was a cover while they watched him, to see just how much you wanted him. They could have been watching to take you away.

"Open those pretty legs. I want to bury myself in your sweet little cunt." Ivar puffs against your ear. Normally his sex drive was the definition of overactive; claiming you wherever he could. It would not be the first time that Hvitserk had looked away from his brother's hands underneath your skirt. Like before, he tosses up the underskirt in a wave of fabric to palm the expanse of your legs up to your core. Far from being angry with him from exposing you, you had another thought on your mind.

"Ivar you promised." A whine slips of your lips– eliciting a bouncing groan from Ivar's lips. He knew what you meant, massaging your outer lips of your cunt. It responds fully heartedly, oozing against his palm. The slick lets his fingers slip inside of your warm channel. Maybe he didn't amount his promise to being as serious as it was to you. You cling to the tunic on his chest.

"Ivar." You're leering at him now. He can't ignore you anymore.

"Now? Do we have to cuddle in the open?" Ivar hisses. He drags his fingers from your warmth, caressing a line between your lips; still sopping with his creamy cum from earlier in the day. Keeping you stuffed was his preference. He withdraws his fingers again, trying to press them to your mouth when you angle your jaw away.

"You promised you would cuddle with me." You pout.

"Fine... but eat this first." He sets his fingers against your mouth. This time you obey– sliding him inside to run your moist tongue around his cum soaked fingers. Hollowing your cheeks, you suck him off of his fingers, looking to him with a sultry smile gleaming in your kohl lined eyes.

"Come here, you're so high maintenance... You'd carve out my heart if it meant getting more attention." Ivar drops back onto the sandy shore, one arm behind his head while shifting you against his chest. His eyes meet the puffy clouds that shift by in blobs as he cups your shoulders against him. You made it clear. If he wanted a sex toy, there were plenty of thralls that he could use. But if he wanted you... well, then he would have to put in the work that came with owning a woman.

Apparently that meant cuddles. Tons of unnecessary cuddles that sometimes warmed his heart and other times made his skin crawl with worry that this would not last. Today, it was squirming in his chest. He had made a scene and gotten turned down for it. Obviously his brothers have noticed... and you are a healthy distraction.

"Aren't women supposed to own men's hearts?" Your hand wanders against his toned chest. The available skin is kissed by the sun. Your head comes to rest and you listen to the repetitive thumping of his heart beneath the skin. Cuddling was your favourite thing. You could snuggle and feel like the only princess for him.

"It is the other way around." He chides back, turning his head to yours on his shoulder.

"Mmm, we'll see about that."

Small kisses drip against his like little raindrops. He hears his brothers speaking about him and maybe you do too, but you replace the worries with your lips on his. For a moment, you forgot how large his upper body was compared to his full-blooded brothers. They were slender things. Even Sigurd. Your kisses become sluggish, almost sleepily so as Ivar stares at the sky above, eyes forming a crease as they shut.

Poor Ivar. His brothers were mocking him. He's all show. She turned him down. Maybe he can't use it.

"Don't worry about them." You murmur and your hand shifts down between your bodies. You grasp his cock through his trousers, gently caressing his dick. He's since gone soft with your affectionate cuddles. You love the feeling of Ivar's cock twitching to excitement under your fingertips, straining at the fabric as if desperate to get to you. "They share all the same woman. What would they know of love. Besides... I'm wet."

Love– is that what this was? Ivar's head drops into a roll, keeping his eyes on yours with a soft 'hm.' You shift over Ivar, straddling his hips. Then as he is about to question you any words are snuffed out of his lips. For good reason: you peel the underside of your dress, both under and outer layers, and thrust the pounds of dress to the side. You're as naked as the day he spotted you bathing in the beach and decided that he had to have you.

He swallows. Fuck, fuck, fuck... Ubbe has noticed. He stopped midway in the water with his spear. "You're not worried about them seeing?"

You tilt your head as if you're not sure why he's asking. He never seemed concerned before– in the fields, outside your father's home. So why was this time different? You quickly realize that he's attempting to keep your honour in front of his brothers.

"What do I care about a few flimsy little ponies. I'm here to ride whats mine." You slide down his body, beginning to fiddle with his pants. Your breasts graze his bound legs and by the way your ass is waving in the air, Ivar knows that Ubbe has a beautiful sight of your shaved pussy. Hvitserk slaps Ubbe's shoulder to command his attention to a fat flopping fish in his hands but promptly loses it– barking shit!– when he catches sight of what his older brother is looking at. From the distance, he's sure that his brothers can't see Ivar's cum that leaks from your used hole.

There's a bizarre well of pride knowing that they were watching you. Ivar wouldn't share his new woman. More than a simple hole to fuck with and lose himself in, you were perfect. You never looked at him the same way that Margrethe did. It wasn't of fear, it was of excitement. They could stare all they wanted because in the end, your warm holes were all his.

"Everytime I think I know why I wanted you– you surprise me by being a filthy cock hungry slut." Ivar grunts when you swoop back up, his cock cool in the salty beach air. His tip hovers against your well loved entrance, your soaked walls threatening to engulf him once again. You do. Slowly you ache him by angling your warm walls down his tip deliberately slowly.

"Why?" You moan loudly as you sink your hot, wet pussy down on him. Ivar cringes with his hands at your hips, bucking forward to force you to take him completely. A howling moan leaves your lips with Ivar so fully filling you. Your hands drift across his firm chest, gripping his shoulders to stabilize yourself.

"Because I'm never sure if I came for those fluttering eyelashes or the way your disgusting cunt eats me up." Ivar hisses. Your hips lift, snatching him back tightly inside with a lewd smack of your pussy down his cock– even fully clothed. He slides his hands across your curves, savouring each bend he found until his thumb ran across your nipples, making you tighten around with a punched out shriek.

"You're the one who makes it disgusting." You glance over. If they weren't watching before, they were now. You tug Ivar forward by his short, dark hair and bend to meet his lips in sloppy wet kisses. Ivar's bound legs are suddenly so much more uncomfortable with you riding him for what he was worth, forcing his hands to the grains of beige sand "You don't have any other thing to do but fill me."

You say such a thing with his cock tightly held by your warm, needy walls. Ivar laughs, grinding his hips up. It was hard and fast that you took him. His breath hottens– as if he can't hold himself back much longer despite just having gotten inside of your body.

"You look better when you're leaking." Ivar grunts.

You smile lightly, "Just like you look better when you're cumming?"

It earns you a sharp thrust. One that earns him a decadently loud scream, tightening your muscles voluntarily around him. He knew your little fucking game. The one where you pretended to be this sweet, innocent thing that was being fucked mercilessly by this monster of a boy below you. Your fingers massage the hairless sides of his face, drifting up to where his sideburns were, stroking through his hair.

"So do it." You tease mercilessly, shaking your hips around him– and with a punched out moan, Ivar lifts his hips to cum within you. His eyebrows screw tight, lids shut deeply and seconds later, he fills you full of his seed. Every little whimper is just that much better; filling you with a pleasure his fingers could never on their own.

"You didn't–" You cut him off by sliding off of him, dripping his seed down your legs as you ran into the water beside his staring brothers, moving over so that you could bathe and loosen his seed of your womb. Or maybe show off. If he was be honest with himself– he knew it was just that; and he loved it.