by Cara Wylde
“Good morning!” she chirped, a big smile plastered on her face. God, he was gorgeous! His blue jeans were riding low on his waist, and he was wearing a loose shirt which clung beautifully to his chiseled muscles. He was barefooted, and Delyse thought he probably needed more time to get used to the modern clothes and shoes. Especially shoes.
Eric stopped in his tracks, the sight of his beautiful bride in his bed taking his breath away. He didn’t say anything, he simply stared at her. She had looked amazing yesterday, inside the cave, but now she looked even better. She looked… real, he realized. She was real, and his heart ached like it hadn’t ached in centuries. “Dear God, this is going to hurt,” he thought. “This is going to hurt so, so bad.”
A flicker of confusion danced in Delyse’s eyes. She pulled the duvet off her legs and swung them over the edge of the bed, ready to run to him and ask him what was wrong. She winced when her feet hit the thick carpet. Her muscles were really sore. She was aching all over.
“Don’t,” said Eric.
She looked up at him, her smile fading completely. His voice had been thick and harsh. Had she done something wrong? Why was he behaving so strangely?
Eric cleared his throat, but didn’t apologize even though he realized he had scared her a bit. It wasn’t in his nature to apologize. He crossed the room and stopped right in front of her. Her long, blonde hair fell over her shoulders and breasts, and her big, blue eyes were watching him carefully. Those plump lips, that white, almost translucent skin, those long legs ending in cute, tiny toes… His Lily was perfect. “If this fails,” he thought. “If I fail…” No matter how much he was trying to convince himself that he and Arthur Harington stood a chance in convincing the Council, his fear of losing her like he had lost his other brides was too strong. In fact, it wasn’t fear. It was terror.
Delyse reached out a hand, although she wasn’t sure if she was trying to touch his arm, his thigh, or simply let it float in the air, between them.
“Eric? What’s wrong?”
Her voice. Her tiny hand reaching out to him. Eric squeezed his hands into fists at his sides. “I can’t lose her,” he thought. Instead, he said: “I need you.”
Delyse was taken aback, and before she had time to process what he had just said and figure out what had made him say it, he was all over her. His firm hands were on her face, cupping her cheeks, then the back of her head while he kissed her possessively. She moaned and opened her mouth to tell him to take it easy, but instead ended up with his demanding tongue shoved down her throat. She closed her eyes and let him press her on the mattress as he climbed on top of her.
Eric sucked on her tongue, explored her mouth hungrily, and tasted as much of her as he could. She was delicious. When she tried to touch his chest, he pinned her arms above her head and held her wrists with one hand while he used the other to rip her white, silk nightgown off her body. Her breasts popped free, the perky nipples already hard. He pulled and munched on her lower lip until she started whimpering, then he broke the kiss and looked down at her naked body.
“Eric,” she whispered. Finally, she could speak, but it was hard to catch her breath and find her voice. “What’s got into you?”
He didn’t answer. He growled low in his throat, then squeezed her right breast into his hand and dived down to suck her nipple.
Delyse bit her lower lip and threw her head back. He was being rough and firm, and although he had been pretty straightforward the day before, this time she could feel there was something more to his actions. He sucked on her breast for a while, making her clit throb with need, and her sore pussy become soaked. Her wrists hurt where he held them, and his heavy body was crushing her legs. She let out a breath of relief when he let go of her wrists and moved down her body, his lips and tongue immediately finding her hard nub as his strong hands pushed her legs apart.
“Oh!” She closed her eyes and held on the crumpled sheets. “Eric…”
His hands moved to the back of her knees and he pushed her thighs and hips up so he’d have better access. His tongue trailed from her clit to her entrance, pushed in as far as it went, then went back to her clit. The way she whimpered and trembled drove him insane. He licked the juices off her folds, sucked each of them between his lips, then attacked her hard nub with quick strokes.
“So close…” she whispered.
Her back arched as she came, and she released a long scream which was sure to alert everyone in the palace. Eric licked her until her orgasm was at its peak, then moved up her body with incredible speed and pushed his cock inside her. Hard. Fast. Without thinking twice. Delyse snapped her eyes open and screamed again, this time in pain. Her palms flew to his chest, but instead of pressing and touching the perfect muscles, she tried to push him away.
“Too big,” she moaned. “And I’m so sore… Wait.”
Eric looked down at her and stopped moving his hips. He was completely buried in her tight passage, and it was almost impossible for him to stop. Her walls squeezed him so nicely, her pussy was so slick and ready… It took all his self-control to wait until she adjusted to his girth.
Delyse stared into his golden eyes and relaxed little by little. She wrapped her legs around his hips and clenched her pussy walls tentatively. The pain was still there, but she knew it would go away, eventually. All she had to do was relax and trust him. But how could she trust this silent, broody man who had barely talked to her since they met and he marked her wrist with his breath of fire? She pushed these thoughts at the back of her mind and nodded, not trusting her voice to speak without giving away the pain she was in.
Eric could feel her body was still tense in his arms. For a second, he felt guilty for having taken her so roughly, then he pulled out until only the engorged head of his cock was in and buried himself again, and all trace of guilt flew out the window. One hand went to cradle her head, while the other grabbed her hip and kept her steady as he fucked her hard and fast. He kept his eyes on her face, drinking in the sight of her parted lips, her flushed cheeks, the way she furrowed her brows when he hit a particular spot inside her.
“I need you,” he said again.
It wasn’t a whisper and it wasn’t a plea. It was a fact, and he wanted her to understand it. He wanted her to see what she had done to him, what she was still doing to him, and he wanted her to know she was in over her head. There was no turning back.
“You have me,” she reassured him, looking him straight in the eyes. “I’m yours.”
He grunted and slammed his hips hard against hers, pushing her farther up the mattress.
“Say that again,” he demanded.
“I’m yours.”
His fingers left red marks on her skin as he gripped her hip tighter. He was close, so close… Her body was shaking under him, and when he felt her thighs and legs tense around him, he buried his cock deeper inside her pussy, making sure to hit that sensitive spot.
Delyse screamed and came, struggling to keep her eyes locked onto his as her walls clenched around his rod and the intensity of the orgasm made her vision blurry. A second later, she felt his hot seed coat her pussy. He merely grunted as he finished inside her, his movements losing the rhythm and becoming jerky. He filled her to the brim, all the while thrusting lazily, as if he was taking his time to give her all he had.
She let out a long, heavy sigh as she came down from her height and her body relaxed completely. She felt like a rag doll in Eric’s hands, under his massive body. Now, her body truly hurt. She had been sore before, but now she was burning all over, including inside her pussy, where Eric’s long, thick cock was still nestled comfortably. It seemed like he had no intention of pulling out, and right now Delyse really wanted him to pull out. She was sure her clit, her folds, and her entrance were red from his rough ministrations. She pushed against his chest weakly, and sighed when he didn’t budge.
“Eric… I… I’m tired.”
Studying her face, he knew she wasn’t lying. She looked more than tired, sh
e looked exhausted. Her body was soft and pliable in his arms. He caressed her cheek as he pulled out, his cock still as hard as rock. He was ready to go again, and his glistening cock throbbed with an overwhelming need he had to learn how to control. She smiled at him, her eyes heavy with sleep, and all he could think of was how he would have loved to see and feel those plump lips wrapped around his shaft. He took a deep breath and rolled off of her. Just as he stood up and pulled his jeans back over his hips, carefully tucking his raging erection in, Delyse reached out and touched his elbow.
“Aren’t you going to tell me what’s wrong?”
Eric furrowed his brows. He didn’t even look at her.
“Nothing’s wrong.”
Delyse huffed.
“I don’t believe you. You barge into the room, fuck me without a word, and now you’re about to leave without a word. You know you can tell me anything…”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
He straightened his clothes and headed to the door.
“Eric…” She tried to hide how much he annoyed her, how much it pissed her off when he ignored her like that.
“Get some rest, Lily.”
Without even gracing her with a glance, he opened the door and stepped out. At least, this time, he closed it slowly behind him.
CHAPTER FIVE
The Bride’s Betrayal
In the next two days, Eric behaved exactly the same, and Delyse was getting tired of it. She couldn’t have a normal conversation with him, he never asked her if she’d like to attend the meetings he had with Viggo, Astrid, and Finn, and he never spent more than one or two hours with her. And in those hours, they had sex. It was usually hard, fast, no questions asked. Questions such as: “Is this okay?”, “Do you feel like it?”, “What do you like?”, or “What do you want to do?” She didn’t feel like she was his bride, and she certainly didn’t feel like she was part of the clan. Sore, angry, and frustrated, she spent most of her time in her room, in bed. The sex was good, she couldn’t complain about that, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t have appreciated a break, or wouldn’t have liked to be on top for once. But every time she tried to engage him in a normal, perfectly harmless conversation, Eric bailed on her. He turned his back, got out of bed, threw his clothes on, and stormed out of the room. Like he was afraid to see her as more than a woman he enjoyed fucking… Like he was afraid to let her in.
The third day, Eric came to wake her up early in the morning, a thing which he had never done before. At first, Delyse was excited at the small change in their daily routine, thinking it was a good sign. Then, Eric told her he had only come to say goodbye because he was leaving for London.
Astrid was the one who told her later that he had actually scheduled a meeting with Arthur Harington, Blake Sylfur, and Max Blackmane to discuss the possibility of bringing her father’s research back into the attention of the Council. Delyse listened to her patiently, but the truth was that she was boiling with anger. This whole thing concerned her just as much as it concerned Eric and Clan Drekinn. She didn’t like being left out.
With Eric gone for two days, Delyse finally decided to get out of the room and the palace. It was freezing cold although it was a pleasant, sunny day. She put on as many clothes as it was comfortable, then wrapped herself in a long, heavy fur coat, and went for a walk through the gardens. The fresh air invigorated her, and the beautiful landscape distracted her from her dark thoughts, just as she had hoped it would. “I should really get out of the palace more often,” she thought. But with Eric claiming her body every time he set eyes on her, she was usually too wiped to even imagine how her muscles would feel if she walked a distance longer than the distance between her bed and the bathroom.
Delyse stopped in front of a bench, but instead of sitting down, she took her hands out of her pockets and stretched her arms sideways, then above her head. Her shoulders popped, and she sighed in satisfaction.
“Oh, this feels so nice,” she whispered to herself. She took a deep breath and let the cold air fill her lungs. It stung a bit, but not in a bad way.
After a few minutes, she resumed walking, thinking of taking the long way back to the palace. The air around her had changed, though. She tried to shrug off the odd feeling, but when she realized it was, indeed, warmer than a couple of minutes before, she stopped and studied her surroundings.
“Astrid?” she called out. Who else could it be? The only ones who could turn freezing air warm and then hot in an instant were the dragon-shifters.
“No, it’s me,” Viggo’s voice came from behind an old oak.
Delyse turned to him and smiled. “What are you doing there?”
“Oh, I just…” He stammered a bit, then cleared his throat. “I was just taking a walk, you know… Clearing my head.” He hoped she wouldn’t figure out he had been sort of stalking her.
Delyse cocked an eyebrow, but didn’t question him further.
“Then, come walk beside me,” she invited him.
Viggo hesitated for a moment, then closed the distance between them and fell in step with her. They walked in silence for a while, then Delyse made a comment about the weather and the pretty garden, and before they knew it, they were talking about her first few days with the clan and Eric, and about her father’s proposal. Delyse couldn’t believe Eric had kept all those things from her. Viggo was more than willing to help her catch up with what was happening, and she appreciated him for that. She loved the fact that he actually saw her as the Alpha bride she was, and not as a convenience for Eric or Clan Drekinn. As much as she wanted, she couldn’t mask her anger any longer, and the Annarr immediately realized what was going through her mind. And heart.
“Eric has always been difficult,” he said. He knew his personality wasn’t an excuse, but it was his duty to make sure Delyse didn’t come to hate her husband. Not this soon, at least. “He’s a great Alpha, though. His cold and calculated demeanor is what has held this clan together for so many hundreds of years. Even in hibernation, his name alone made us, his dragons, do our best to keep the clan alive.”
“I understand,” she said. “But does he have to be like this all the time?” She stopped and turned towards him. “He never talks to me, Viggo. He doesn’t even look at me if we’re not having sex!”
A pang of pain made its way right through Viggo’s ribs and planted itself in his heart. He kept a straight face.
“How am I supposed to support him if he barely pays any attention to me? The antidote, my father’s research… If I think of it, I’m more involved in this than all of you are. I started it, didn’t I?”
Viggo nodded, but didn’t know what to say. In truth, there was no explanation to why Eric was behaving like an asshole. Or… maybe there was. But he wasn’t about to tell his bride just how insecure and afraid his Fyrstur was.
“How am I supposed to live like this, Viggo?”
Delyse spread her arms to her sides, as if to show she was out of ideas. And she was out of ideas. She had tried to start meaningless discussions about books and movies, and even about history. She told him she could help him catch up with the world. She could answer his possible questions about how the Internet worked, how technology had evolved, and what it was acceptable to wear in public. He had ignored her each and every time.
“He doesn’t want me around him, he acts like the sound of my voice alone irritates him… This isn’t normal, all right? This isn’t how I imagined my marriage would be!”
Viggo sighed and looked away. He couldn’t bear seeing her so sad. What hurt even more was that he couldn’t make it better. It wasn’t in his power to offer her all the good things she deserved. To be loved, respected, listened to…
“He needs time,” he said, his voice more of a whisper. “He will never admit it, but it’s hard for him to come back after so many centuries and start over. The world has changed, and he’s overwhelmed.”
“Did he tell you that?”
“No, of course not.” He looked into her
clear blue eyes and smiled. “I doubt he is capable of admitting it to himself. Eric is too proud to seek help. Yours, mine… it doesn’t matter. He just doesn’t want it. The next couple of months are going to be harsh, and he knows it.”
“This is stupid.” She shook her head in annoyance. “Asking for help or guidance doesn’t make him less of a man.”
“In his mind, it would make him less of an Alpha. He will work hard, you’ll see. He won’t sleep for weeks on end, and he will use all the time he gets to learn everything he needs to know in order to function properly in this new world and society. He’ll pull it off, eventually, but it won’t be easy.”
Delyse sighed. “Yeah, I know… It won’t be easy for him.”
“That’s a given, but I was thinking about you. It won’t be easy for you. And I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
Delyse lost herself in Viggo’s golden eyes. She realized they were lighter than Eric’s. Everything about Viggo was lighter, simpler, more comforting… Involuntarily, she took a step closer to him. His body was like a magnet. He was wearing tattered jeans, a loose shirt, and sneakers, and even though the outfit was rather plain and careless, it looked amazing on his taut muscles. His dirty blond hair was disheveled, strands sticking everywhere thanks to the wind, and his skin radiated intoxicating heat. Even as she told herself she had to snap out of it, she couldn’t help but imagine how it would feel to snuggle against his chest and let him offer her all the care and attention Eric failed to give her. She shivered at the thought that she was trapped with the cold, selfish Eric when handsome, kind Viggo was within arm’s reach.
Viggo saw her shivering, and acted on instinct. He pulled her towards him, grabbed the soft collar of her coat, and wrapped it tighter around her neck.
“You’re freezing,” he whispered, his face so close to hers that his hot breath tickled her nose.
“No… Not anymore.”
She looked up at him, and her hands found their way up his chest. Why couldn’t she control her body? Why couldn’t she pull away, order her fingers not to trace his strong muscles?