A Glassy Lady: Coeur de Lyon: A Renaissance Flair 2

by C. A. Storm

  Bard proved he wasn’t always fucking polite by giving Reggie a rude gesture as he raced past.

  Reaching the shoppe and forge, Bard felt a crushing sense of relief to see Harper standing there, surrounded by the pups. She brightened when she saw him, and in less than a heartbeat, he was clinging to her with barely leashed ferocity.

  “Erik, boys,” Bard’s roughly growled, nuzzling his cheek against Harper’s head, cradling her against his chest as he sought to calm his pounding heart. “Run back to camp, let Ace know what’s going on. Ask him if he’ll stand for us tonight. Please. I’m going to take Harper inside for a bit.”

  “Yes, sir!” Erik herded the protesting pups away, but a few sharply hissed words soon had them running full tilt towards the Traveler’s camp.

  Leaning back, Bard tilted Harper’s face up towards his, and was a little surprised to see she was seething with near-shifter levels of rage.

  “Baby,” she growled, well enough Bard briefly worried she might actually be undergoing a Change, “We are going to have a nice long talk with your parents and straighten out a few things.”

  “In-laws, eh?” Bard teased and was rewarded by the crinkling of her nose.

  “Okay, that’s fair,” Harper huffed, rolling her eyes and visibly relaxing. “I was really hoping that coming out here would be a vacation, but I’m barely here forty-eight hours and I’m already having to stand in front of a judge, jury, and possibly an executioner.”

  “It won’t come to that,” Bard promised, pressing his lips against her forehead. “Just the usual relationship drama that comes up, we’re just getting it all taken care of up front instead of letting it fester for years. Wolves respect strength. Just be yourself, then once it’s all settled, we’ll be able to milk the guilt for centuries!”

  Shoulders shaking with her muffled laughter, Harper buried her face in his chest and just leaned into him. He was more than happy to provide her the support.

  “Come on, darling,” Bard murmured against the top of her head, “Let’s go, get you some tea, and look through those documents your grandparents sent. Might as well get everything out in the open so we can prioritize. Then, we can take a nap and get in some serious cuddle time.”

  “Cuddle time?” Her voice was muffled against his chest as she wrapped her arms around his trim waist.

  “Yep,” he said simply, hiding his grin, “Wolves love to cuddle. We’re just overgrown puppies. If we could, we’d just spend all our time cuddling, or playing.” He paused, then admitted, “Or sleeping.” Okay, honesty, “Or eating.”

  “What about…” she paused, lowering her voice to a whisper even he had to strain to hear, “Fucking?”

  Hearing his sweet, sassy Southern darling say the word fucking? Priceless! And fucking arousing as fuck.

  Shifting his hips as the warm tingle of arousal hummed through his veins, Bard leaned down and nuzzled pointedly at the side of her neck, over the place he had marked her; making her go weak-kneed and cling to him for support as he growled huskily against her flesh, “Oh, that too, my darling. Now, let me take you inside, and you can talk dirty to me while we cuddle.”

  Before she had even finished nodding, Bard had swept her up against his chest. Planting a fierce, swift, hungry kiss against her lips he carried her inside, up the stairs, and into her studio, kicking doors closed behind him as his mate giggled like a crazy woman.

  “You are mating a Viking,” he said with a dignified sniff and casual shrug. “You’re going to have to get used to being Vikinged!”

  “Vikinged?” Harper laughed, a glorious ring of rich peels that had his inner wolf lolling like he’d won the lottery. “Is that even a word?”

  “Ah, the beauty of the English language, my sweet,” Bard leered down at her before he tossed her unto the bed and struck a heroic pose. “Is that it’s a living language, so it evolves constantly. And, we have free reign to make up whatever words we want!”

  “Oh, we do, do we?” Harper eyed him, then up went the brow. The left one, the teasing one. Uh oh. “Like what?”

  Put on the spot, Bard’s mind went blank. Especially when his pretty mate began pulling off her sweatshirt, tugging it off over her head.

  “Um.”

  Her breasts, barely constrained within the plain cotton sports bra, emerged from the hem of the sweatshirt.

  “Um.”

  What was he supposed to be thinking about again?

  Oh. Words. Words good.

  Fuck words, fuck mate! Okay, leave it to his wolf to leap straight passed the foreplay to go for the throat of the matter.

  “You were saying?” Harper said with a deceptively sweet smile as she tossed the sweatshirt aside and leaned back on her hands.

  “Marry me?” Bard breathed reverently as he tore his shirt off.

  There went the last few buttons that had been hanging on. Oops.

  Her mouth opened soundlessly, then closed. She blinked. She tried again. Still nothing. He had managed to render her speechless this time. Score!

  Crawling onto the bed, Bard went nose-to-nose with her. Grinning, he kissed her lips. “Marry me? Yes, I want you to mate me, to be mine. You are mine. But you, my gloriously clever mate, are a lawyer by choice, so, I want to make it legal in the human world.” His grin widened as he went back on his haunches, “And as we have to update our lives, change our names, do all that pretend stuff to get by in the Mortal World; you can marry me again. And again. And again. That way, our honeymoon period will never end.”

  HOLY SHIT! SHE’S CRYING! ABORT! ABORT!

  “Darling? Darling! What’s wrong? What hurts? Who do I kill? Do you need an emergency room? We need to go!”

  Scrambling out of the bed, terror fueling his actions, he tried to figure out what he needed to do first.

  Phone! 911!

  In Bard’s defense, Harper rarely cried, and this was his first time seeing his mate with tears falling down her face. Yes, he had younger sisters, and yes, he was close to his mother, but like the rest of the family, they tended to be screamers instead of criers.

  Before he completely lost his marbles, Harper’s bubbly laughter and her hooking her hand in the back of his jeans, prevented him from having a total meltdown.

  “You’re such a guy,” she teased, tugging him back towards her as she scooted to the edge of the bed.

  “Are you okay? Seriously?” Bard asked suspiciously.

  “I’m fine, just…happy. And apparently, even Bitch Queens can cry. But they’re good tears. I promise!”

  Placing firm hands on her shoulders, Bard squinted down at her, his eyes scanning her face to make sure she was telling the truth. “Really?”

  Burying her face in his stomach to muffle her giggles, she nodded. “Really, really!”

  Her breath was warm against his lower abs, her hands slowly sliding over his ass, and he may have totally lost the track of the conversation once again.

  “Um.”

  “Just relax, baby,” she husked softly. “Let me help you relax, then we can cuddle for a bit.”

  “Um…”

  Chapter 29

  Maybe she was trying to distract herself more than she was trying to distract Bard, but honestly? She just didn’t give a damn.

  Here, now, she didn’t want to worry about tomorrow, didn’t want to worry about the outside world.

  She had an incredibly sexy, oh-so-incredibly sweet man who was as interested in her as she was in him.

  He chased away the fear of being alone, of being forever trapped outside in the cold; and instead made her want to dance barefoot with him, to spend long nights curled up in front of a roaring fire while the storm raged on outside, to laugh with him, tease him, and even get into arguments over silly things.

  She had no illusions that life would ever be perfect.

  It wasn’t perfection that made life interesting.

  It was fighting over leaving the toilet seat up by getting revenge by using his razor to shave your legs.

  It
was getting so distracted by stealing a kiss, you end up banging your knee on the coffee table.

  It was knowing that all though you may get into heated arguments, in the end, there was no other person you wanted to turn to when you needed a shoulder to cry on.

  Life is messy. Love is messy. But as even a child can tell you, getting messy is the fun part!

  And right now?

  Life was kind of messy!

  But with the pure, masculine scent of Bard wrapping around her, with her lips pressed against the heat of his damp flesh, with his large, powerful hands gently massaging her shoulders; Harper couldn’t think of anywhere else she’d rather be.

  Wanting to taste him, she lapped at his salty skin, drawing a hiss from him and a flexing of those incredible abdominal muscles.

  Mmm, I could get used to this!

  Glancing up at him from beneath lowered lashes, seeing the focused intensity on his handsome face and those radiant blue eyes showing that both sides of his nature were intent on her; she pressed a kiss lower down, where the broken fastener of his jeans gaped open, revealing the hint of golden curls.

  “Darling,” he groaned, squeezing her shoulders as he struggled between the urge to pull her closer and push her away. “You don’t have to…”

  “No, I don’t,” she agreed. “But I want to.”

  When she looked down, she could see the thick ridge of his cock pulsing to life, growing before her fascinated eyes.

  It was purely because she didn’t want him to be uncomfortable that she reached up and carefully unzipped his jeans, letting his cock bob free.

  Seeing him in the full, unbiased light of day for the first time, Harper gawked.

  How the Hell did that fit inside of me? Go team!

  Sliding his jeans down over his hips, she watched as his cock continued to swell, engorging with blood, the thick veins pulsating as the wide shaft slowly but surely curved upwards until it was poised directly in front of her.

  His glans was flushed a deep scarlet, the flared crown sliding the smooth, ivory skin back to emerge from the hood of skin that protected it. The purple and blue veins gave his, otherwise, smooth shaft impressive ridges, leading down the length to disappear into the thatch of curls that flared around the base and covered his heavy testes.

  Even his thick thighs were covered with a rather thick dusting of silky, dark golden hairs, and as she forced the jeans further down (God bless, did the man paint them on? How the heck did he manage to even move in them?) she saw that he really hadn’t exaggerated. From the waist down, he was nearly a yeti, compared to the relative smoothness of his recently waxed chest.

  Yet, despite the density of the hair, it was silky smooth, and so fine and silky, it just made his untanned legs look more golden from a distance.

  He shuffled on his huge feet, his hands still firmly planted on her shoulders, drawing her attention back up to his face. He was watching her studying him, and the hint of vulnerability on his face about broke her heart.

  “Baby, how could you doubt just how beautiful you are?” Harper asked in honest confusion. “You’re…more than I could have ever dreamed for.”

  There went his grin, brightening his entire face. He had one of those faces that completely transformed from mood-to-mood. When he was serious, his face was stark, the line of his jaw stubborn jaw, with those sharp cheekbones romance novels always went on about. But when he grinned, when it lit his eyes, he went from Norwegian runway model to wickedly-boyish Viking.

  Cupping her cheeks in his calloused fingers, he leaned down and kissed her with a sweet, slow tenderness. “That’s good, darling…because I’m afraid you’re stuck with me. I’ll be thanking the Norns for the rest of my life because I’m the one that got the better end of this deal. I get a creative, intelligent, beautiful woman whose heart I plan on keeping. You get an old, grumpy beast who’s little more than a blacksmith and doesn’t really have any big desire to do anything else than spend the rest of his life taking care of you and our pups.”

  “You’re all I ever wanted, but didn’t know existed,” Harper answered, then grinned impishly, “Outside of romance novels, but you’ve already shown me that the reality of an alpha werewolf mate is so much better than the fantasy.”

  Chuckling against her lips, he nipped the pouty lower one and growled huskily, “Yeah, well, just you remember that when we get into a wrestling match over the remote control.”

  Reaching up, Harper wrapped his swaying, heavy cock in her hand, her grin turning wicked as he groaned, eyes rolling up in his head as he instinctively thrust his hips into her touch.

  “Oh, I’ll remember, darling,” she murmured in a sweet, honeyed drawl as she let her fingers fully explore him.

  He had started to go soft as they talked, but as the blood flowed away from big brain to little brain, it swelled rapidly within her grasp, swiftly proving to be more than a handful.

  Thick as her wrist—and she was not a ‘small-boned’ woman—and long; his cock had a wicked upward curve that had already proven more than capable of ensuring he hit all the right spots in the best possible way.

  There was no way humanly possible she was going to be able to get much of him down her throat, not without a lot of practice—despite what the romance novels promised! She may be a witch, but she was still basically human. No shapeshifting, no body magically adapting. Hellfire, they were going to have to work up to even considering anal!

  Yet, despite the scary idea of him burying his tree trunk in her…how did those romance novels phrase it? Oh yeah, up her forbidden entrance…she had to admit to a little thrill. More practice.

  The thought of all those ‘practice’ sessions had her own sex growing damp, the inner muscles clenching in anticipation of having him once more buried completely, deeply inside of her in any way, every way possible.

  No time like the present to start practicing! Harper thought to herself with a small grin as she leaned in, and used the tip of her tongue to taste the glistening drop her touch had elicited from the throbbing cock jerking in her fingers.

  The taste of him was a little sweet, a little musky and wild. It was unique, and as it spread over her tongue, she found herself craving more.

  Before she consciously realized what she was doing, she was swirling her tongue around his exposed glans, wrapping her lips around the cap of his cock while her hands begin to firmly, slowly milk the length of him.

  Feeling his massive, powerful body tremble, his hands gently kneading her shoulders, hearing the whimpering groans he tried to fight back, as if he were afraid to unleash himself, was as heady as the taste of him.

  Sure enough, she soon discovered, she could only take so much of him into her mouth. Fighting back the urge to gag, which made her self-conscious and was decidedly unsexy, she drew back for breath and looked up at him. As she parted her lips to apologize, the glazed look in his eyes was swiftly replaced by focus, and his hand moved to gently cup her cheek, his thumb tracing over her lower lip.

  “Baby, no rush… fuck, already so damned good. Gods and goddesses, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

  Leaning down, he hooked his arms beneath hers and hauled her up against his chest, his lips crashing down on hers as he kissed her with desperate hunger.

  His hands gripped her ass, squeezing tight and grinding against her, branding her with the raw, potent heat of his cock through the thin fabric of her Yoga pants.

  Tearing his head away, his eyes burned as he growled, “You have five seconds to get undressed, darling…better hurry, or I’m just going to tear your clothes off.”

  Letting her go, he stepped back. Once. Twice. And then loomed there, chest heaving, every muscle standing in stark relief against his pale skin as he watched her with avid concentration.

  “One,” he rumbled.

  Quickly, Harper began tugging herself out of her sports bra, her hair coming loose from the pony tail to fall around her shoulders in a messy cascade of waves.

  “Two,” his voi
ce deepened even more, if possible.

  Scrambling now, she sat down to tug off her cross trainers, tossing them aside as he snarled, “Three.”

  With hands trembling more from desire than anything remotely approaching fear, she shoved both her panties and Yoga pants down, wriggling as she squirmed out of the elastic fabric to his ominously gritted, “Four.”

  Looking up as she finally kicked off the last of her clothes, her shuddering breaths caught in her throat as she caught sight of her Viking, looking more feral than she had ever seen him. Even more so than when he had attempted to attack his brothers.

  It’s not that he had completely wolfed out. His face was still human, he wasn’t covered with a thick pelt of fur, but he had never looked more dangerous. He was pure, raw, dominant male and everything feminine within her yearned towards him.

  Inhaling deeply, his eyes slid shut and his chest swelled, making those already impressive muscles flare until it seemed he had doubled in size. Opening his eyes, those orbs blazing with the white-hot incandescence of twin stars, his grin was the epitome of “wolfish” as she caught sight of those gleaming fangs.

  “Five.”

  Squeaking, Harper instinctively pulled back, twisting to crawl up over the bed, scrambling to escape the Beast as he pounced.

  Big, clawed hands seized her hips firmly, powerfully yanking her back until her ass was nestled in the crook of his hips and his chest was leaning against her back. He was just taller than her enough that he could rest his bearded jaw on her shoulder, and as he curled his entire body around her kneeling one, she felt completely engulfed.

  “Darling, rousing the Beast can be a dangerous game,” the heavy rumble of his voice thrummed through his deep chest, and the slow, steady grinding of his thick length in the cleft of her ass had her shuddering in anticipation. “But this time…you’re in control, my sweet Harper.”

  He pulled away suddenly, leaving her shivering in the sudden chill as the heat of his body left hers. Turning her head, she saw him laying down beside her, shifting unto his back and leaving his cock angrily slapping against his taut stomach.