Stavanger Bay Well it's too late

The affection lingered in her gestures, a shallow love built off the drive of instincts but for now, and in the moment the heat of it was staggering and it was more than enough for the northman. Kjalarr did not know if these affectionate gestures were usually apart of this: in truth he was following her lead, giving into her desires and what she sought from this encounter. From the signs he was presented with Freyja appeared to be enjoying what they shared, and though he was a very dominate creature by nature he did not mind catering to her — though this was probably extremely selfish of Kjalarr in and of itself. He strongly suspected that if he gave her what she wanted first that she might very well return the favor to him, and hoped that the intoxicating scent of her body meant that she wanted this as bad as he did. 

Kjalarr could not fully enjoy the moment that the goddess shared with him, her forehead resting against his in a touch that he could claim he'd ever known before. He did not take the time to assess the gesture, savage and wanting as he was. His mind was on what she had yet to give him, on what they had to give one another. She pulled away suddenly and the absence of her warmth was felt to the young viking as she took a step back, watching him. His head canted slightly before he pushed himself to his paws. He approached her, mimicking in his earlier advances: he brushed his muzzle against hers, teeth lashing through the silken tendrils of fur at her cheek in a love bite. He recalled only long enough to judge her reaction though he was confident that this time she would not warn him off. He placed a feverish trail of kisses to her jaw, nipping gingerly, with a feral sort of playfulness before he moved to circle her though he dared to not break body contact, sliding his side against hers so that they grays of their individual coats meshed, pausing to nip wickedly at her thigh, his nose skimming the fur there, her scent stronger here, as he was in close proximity to it's origin. His tongue trailed the fur place where he'd nipped at her thigh.

Kjalarr rounded her then, his chest bumping against her thigh as he moved with the clear intent to tease, sniffing at her instinct telling him that though the desire to mount her was strong he needed her permission first.