Bride of Grendel 2: Night of the Bear Man: A Viking Lore Erotic Tale (Viking Lore Erotic Tales Book 3) by Gwynn Jones

 
     
                  Sigrun stared into the pool at her feet. It was not murky — she could see the stone steps disappearing into the water, crystal clear, for several feet. But then it became dark, inky black. The submarine entrance to this subterranean lair was so deep beneath the surface, no light from above penetrated the mouth of the cave that opened to this pool. She slipped out of her dress, allowing it to drop to the floor. Completely bare, she stepped into the water, relishing the chill for a moment as the cold water lapped at her thighs, and then dove in.
                  The first time she had plunged through these waters, she had thought she would drown. The dark, the cold, the impossibly deep descent and the impossibly long underwater swim were beyond anything any normal human should have been able to survive. She had gathered later that she was the only one of the monster Grendel's would-be guests ever to have made it to his hall alive. Now she gave it no thought. She swam easily through the deeps, to and from the surface or, as now, remaining below for as long as she wanted. She wasn't exactly sure how she managed it. She didn't breathe the water, she didn't think — but she didn't seem to be holding her breath, either. Somehow, it just didn't matter.
                  She emerged from the cave into the open waters. Here a faint light shone out from the hall. She paused, enjoying the feel of her long hair floating in a cloud around her head, waiting for the sea beasts to arrive. They frequented the waters around the cave, great serpentine sea dragons with long, twisting limbs. At first sight they were terrifying: huge creatures with sharp teeth snapping at one another, twisting and twining in elaborate knots of coiled, writhing altercation. Now they seemed playful. When they separated out from one another — which was rare and brief — they did not seem quite so enormous. Though the jaws of any one of them were large enough to bite a man in half. She smiled as three of her favorites surged towards her from out of a bank of seaweed below.
                  They separated from one another long enough to wrap her in their coils, sliding around her and nipping softly at her hair before entwining her in their knot. It was a delicious feeling, this cool, snaky embrace. These dragons moved too quickly — streaming, rippling things — and were too often too intricately interwoven for Sigrun to get a clear sense of their anatomy. When she became part of one of their knots, she knew only that they twined their limbs around her own, twisting around her waist, her hips, her neck, arms and legs. They held her completely immobile, and yet the sensation was one of constant motion as their bodies slid over and around hers. A tail wrapped around her neck. Soft, feathery fins rippled against her breasts, tickling her nipples. Her arms and legs were outspread; coils twined around her loins. Her dragons carried her through the water, pulling her even deeper down, where tiny glowing fishes lit up the dark like glittering fairy lights.
                  She was never entirely sure what it was — a tail, a tentacle? — that penetrated her on these swims, but did it matter? Her beasts liked to probe every inch of her, including her in their intimate knot. She suspected that they also liked to please her, liked to feel how her body shuddered and arched in their coils when they touched the right spots. Whatever the appendage, it was small enough at the tip, squirming and teasing its way between her lips with only the slightest tickle. But within a few inches it grew wider, and it was always eager to push deeper. Sigrun supposed that somehow, surely, she must be able to breathe underwater, since she could not otherwise see how she could gasp and pant as she must when the dragons fucked her as they did. But it was something she only ever considered after the fact. While it was