I kept my eyes firm on her and didn’t speak mostly because I didn’t know what to say nor did I know what to feel at what she’d said about Frey.
I didn’t need to say anything. Queen Aurora was not near done.
“This disturbed him, as I am guessing with your detachment from your new husband you may not understand, because in the short time you were with him, he made it very clear that he’d come to care about you.”
I felt my heart clench at the same time my breath started escalating.
She kept talking. “It would seem, the way he spoke of you, he’d come to do this deeply. Perhaps,” she paused and continued to study me, “even more deeply than he understands. Definitely,” another pause, “more deeply than it would appear you understand.”
I kept silent and this was mainly because I’d started semi-panting and I was thinking I might be in the early stages of cardiac arrest.
“He called you sweet,” she whispered, her eyes intense on my face which I knew had grown pale at these words, words I liked, words that meant the world to me. “He said you had a strong spirit. He said everything you say, he finds interesting. He told us he enjoys your humor and your smiles.”
I swallowed, shocked these words could even come out of Frey’s mouth, even if he did feel that way, as well as stunned and experiencing the weird sensation of being both heartbroken and immensely pleased that he actually did. Then, as all this hit me, I pressed my lips together as my throat started to clog.
Mother kept going. “And he shared with us that he had vowed to you to keep you safe from harm and while doing this, he told us if anything were to befall you, he would unleash the dragons as vengeance.”
I blinked, not in confusion, but in total shock.
Queen Aurora didn’t miss it, as I was guessing she didn’t miss much, and she nodded.
“Yes, my dear, that is what he said. The Drakkar promised to unleash the dragons, beasts that have not flown across this land for well over a millennia. Beasts that could cause damage and havoc the likes of which cannot be borne. Beasts that are not called upon except to defend our frost-covered land or to utilize their awesome power as service to our people. Your husband made it clear that we were to make it clear to anyone who would listen that if anything were to harm you, he would call upon his beasts to wreak vengeance. And this, my daughter, is not an idle threat to make. This, Sjofn, is extraordinary.”
Oh my God.
Oh my God.
I said nothing and she moved, uncrossing her legs and shifting to the edge of her seat, she leaned forward, elbows to knees in a casual pose the like I’d never seen her adopt.
And then she kept going. “It is my duty as queen of this land and to service my husband who rules it, but also to be a good wife, to stay quiet, listen and observe,” she said softly then even more softly, she got to the meat of the matter by saying, “I know of Viola.”
I sucked in an audible breath and she nodded.
“I know of her, Sjofn, and I saw your face when The Drakkar ordered she attend the table.”
I couldn’t stop myself from closing my eyes and looking away in an effort to hide what her words were making me feel and the intensity of it.
I opened my eyes and looked back at her when I heard her shift and then I watched her move to stand in front of me, looking down.
“My dear Sjofn,” she whispered, “we women carry many burdens. This is one of them, I’m afraid.”
Then I held my breath as she lifted her hand and tenderly cupped my cheek before she continued.
“I, too, had an arranged marriage and I, too, struggled in the beginning to build my relationship and earn the love of your Father. I was enamored with him on sight, he was the most beautiful man I ever beheld but he was also so full of life, so full of humor, it was immensely appealing,” she unusually shared these juicy morsels and I felt my eyes sting with tears as she went on. “But he was king and could do as he would. That said, even though I understood, his dalliances wounded me and they did so deeply.” She leaned slightly closer and kept whispering. “And thus, my Winter Princess, I learned to do all I could to make it so he would not need such encounters. I did this instead of making it clear they offended me, something your Father disliked.” She leaned back and smiled a smile that almost, but not quite, reached her eyes. “However, he did not dislike my efforts to make him no longer seek these relations and,” she paused, her hand shifting to my jaw, her thumb then sweeping my cheekbone, her smile finally reaching her eyes, “he still doesn’t.”
I stared up at her silent but I felt my lips twitch.
Apparently, Father got it regular.
“Do you understand me, my darling girl?” she asked softly.
I nodded. I understood her. Totally.
Her face went soft and she murmured, “Good.”
Then she dropped her hand and moved to the door while I turned to watch, her sweet, soft touch still tingling on my skin, her smiling eyes burned on my brain.
She stopped at the door and looked at me. “The dressmakers have left the undergarments they have made for you to wear under your Gales gown in your dressing chamber. You may don them now in preparation for the fitting. I will find one of your maidservants to bring the dressmakers to you so you can be done with this chore and get on with whatever other…” she paused with meaning, “pressing matters you intend to see to today.”
Not exactly a subtle hint so it wasn’t lost on me.
It was time to seek out The Drakkar.
Shit.
She waited and she did this with obvious expectation.
So I gave her what she expected.
“Okay, Mother,” I whispered.
She lifted her chin majestically and I decided I had to practice that. The way she did it was way cool.
Then she moved gracefully through the door like she floated on air rather than walked on rug-covered wood and she was gone.
Chapter Sixteen
She Missed You
I stood in my dressing room wearing a pair of skintight, delicate, black silk undies that had an abundance of exquisite lace at the seat of my ass, a black satin, boned corset that tied up the front with a blood red ribbon that pushed up my breasts and a red silk, loose-fitting, camisole-type thing under it that had a short, dense, lace ruffle around the edge, a black ribbon that drew it tight against my flesh and showed serious cleavage.
I had one foot on the lounge because I was connecting the second of a pair of the silkiest, flimsiest, most divine black silk stockings to the back garter that ran from the corset over my booty to the hose.
And I was thinking that the underwear in this world rocked in a big way because not only was all this hot, it was also impossibly comfortable and those silk stockings, even in a parallel universe nowhere near as advanced as mine, were the most extraordinary pieces of hosiery I’d ever touched.
And I was also thinking that any man, especially one who commanded dragons, would dig this underwear.
In a big freaking way.
Yes, that was exactly what I was thinking at the same time wondering how in the hell to find that man and then find the words to apologize to him in order to sort our shit out (and I was thinking the underwear might be useful) when the door opened.
“Hey,” I started to say, turning my head to who I expected to be one of my girls leading in the two dressmakers but instead seeing Frey standing statue-still, hand still on the door handle, eyes aimed at my ass.
I went statue-still too and took him in.
Okay, it was safe to say from the look on his face he definitely liked the underwear.
And it was also safe to say from the panic that seized my innards that I was definitely not ready for him to see me in it.
This was why I put my foot down, whirled and ran across the room to the screen that had my robe thrown over it.
I got there. I even got my hand on the robe. But the silk was soon gone from my hand because Frey got there with me and he jerked it right ou
t of my grasp.
Ho boy.
I turned to face him, eyes wide, breaths coming fast like I’d run a two hundred yard dash and not across a room, my mind reeling for the right words to say to sort our shit out but with one look in his eyes, both heated and enraged, not one word came to mind.
“I think,” he growled, “don’t you, that at the very least I’m entitled to see the woman who is supposed to be my wife without cover.”
I stared up at him, close to panting.
Yep, definitely enraged.
That was when I did the smartest thing I could do.
I retreated.
Quickly.
And Frey advanced just as quickly, invading my space with every backward step I made until I slammed against the wall and he pushed right in, hips to my belly, he pinned me to the wall.
Oh shit.
I had to arch my back to tip my head to look at him which pressed my belly into his hips.
Shit!
“Frey –” I started and his name was breathless but I stopped saying whatever it was that was going to come out of my mouth when I heard gasps from across the room.
And I knew the dressmakers had arrived and I knew Frey heard them too but he didn’t release my eyes and I couldn’t look away as he barked an obviously impatient and equally infuriated, “Out!”
My body jerked with the noise.
Oh shit, shit, shit!
The door closed.
Shit.
“Frey –”
He cut me off this time by saying, “I’ve come to inform you,” he paused, his eyes moved to my rising and falling chest then back to my face, “wife,” he spat and my stomach clenched, “that I’m away in an hour. Business. I’ll be gone at least a month, likely longer.”
That was when my stomach wrenched searing pain up through my lungs and even in my throat.
And because of this, all I could manage was a whispered, “What?”
“I’m away in an hour,” Frey repeated.
He was away in an hour.
In an hour he was away.
Without me.
“But… but the Bitter Gales –” I started.
He interrupted me to bite off, “Is there reason for me to escort you to the Gales?”
“Uh…” Oh shit. Think Finnie! “Yes, you… you’re, um… my husband. A husband –”
“I’m not, Sjofn, there are many things I am but one thing I know I am not and that is your husband.”
That hurt, God, it hurt so bad, I had to close my eyes and turn my face away from the anger in his.
And it wasn’t him saying he wasn’t my husband.
It was him calling me Sjofn.
I was not Sjofn. I was Finnie. His wee Finnie. I was not the Sjofn he knew and hated.
I was not.
But I’d asked for that.
Shit. I’d asked for it.
I felt my throat clog as my breaths kept coming fast, my breasts brushing his chest as they came.
Then I felt the tip of his finger glide along the dense ruffle at the edge of my camisole, light against my skin. Gentle, sweet and unbelievably sexy.
I closed my eyes tighter and my breaths came faster as hope budded at his touch.
Then his finger went away.
I missed it when it was gone and I clenched my eyes tight as the tears rushed up my throat.
“Enjoy your Gales, Sjofn,” he said softly but his tone wasn’t gentle, it was distant and that hurt too. “I’ll see you upon my return.”
He started to move away but I looked at him then and I knew, hells bells, I knew when I opened my eyes there were tears there.
Tears!
From me!
But they were there and I didn’t have it in me to make them go away.
And this was because I really, really did not want him to go away.
My chest still moved, rising and falling rapidly as my mind went blank to everything but the thought of him going. But he not only stopped moving away, he had grown completely still as his eyes stayed riveted to mine and there was no way to stop the one tear that dropped and slid down my cheek. I watched him watch it as it went all the way down, falling from my jaw and landing on my chest.
Then his gaze came back to mine when I decided what I needed to say.
And when I did, I whispered, “I change my mind, Frey. I really don’t like it when you call me Sjofn. Please don’t call me that anymore.”
I barely got out the last word when he was back in my space and one of his arms sliced around the small of my back, the other hand plunged into my hair, fisting and pulling back as well as tilting my head to the side and then his mouth slammed down hard on mine.
Instantly his opened, mine reciprocated and there it was.
I was back. He was back. And having him, I shot straight up the line of happiness toward bliss.
But this was not a gentle kiss, this was not sweet, this was charged, greedy and that was coming from the both of us. I took, he took and the way we took I knew there wasn’t ever going to be enough.
My arms had wound around his neck and I pressed deep into him. When I did, Frey didn’t break the connection of our mouths as he leaned deep into me, arching me back as his arm slid over my ass and I knew what he wanted.
I helped by hopping up and circling his hips with my legs. Even before I got them around him, he was turning, walking, still drinking from my mouth as he prowled to my bedroom.
Then I was on my back in the softness of my bed, his heavy weight on me and I arched up, tensing my limbs around him to push deep like I wanted him to absorb me.
It was then he tore his mouth from mine and his blazing eyes locked with my own.
“Do not let your body ask for that which you aren’t ready, my wee one,” he growled his warning.
And he did it while calling me his wee one.
God, I missed that.
“I know what I want, honey,” I whispered, watched his eyes flare then his arms went from around me, I felt his fingers at the sides of my panties and then I heard the material tear.
Yes.
Oh yes. Yes, yes, yes.
My hands went to his sweater at the back, clenching in, pulling up as his fingers went to the gusset of my undies, yanking them free.
“Hurry,” I whispered.
“Patience,” he muttered then he lifted his arms for me, I pulled his sweater free, baring his fantastic chest then his hand went immediately to his breeches.
“Hurry, baby,” I pleaded, pressing into him with my hips and rounding him again to hold him tight in my arms, loving the feel of his sleek, hard-muscled skin against my hands.
“Gods,” he muttered, eyes on mine and I knew my gaze was filled with all the hunger I was feeling for him then his head dropped, his mouth captured mine and his tongue invaded as his cock thrust inside.
My back arched and my low moan drove down his throat.
Oh yes. Yes. Yes, yes, yes!
God, he felt so fucking good.
Then he thrust into me, hard, fast, deep and not close to gentle and I lifted my hips to get him deeper, encourage him to go faster, help him to ride me hard.
I broke my mouth from his as it built, fast, God, so fucking fast, and hot, God, the heat was going to reduce me to ashes and because of that I couldn’t take his tongue anymore.
I shoved my face in his neck, held on and gloried in the fierce jolts his deep thrusts scored into my body as I begged against his neck, “Harder.”
I barely got out the word before my head flew back, pushing into the bed, my neck arching, my back arching, my limbs tightening and I cried out as it seared through me, burning brilliantly.
“Gods,” I heard him grunt as he kept driving into me, “Gods, you’re beautiful, my wee Finnie.”
I opened my eyes to see his on me, burning me anew and I held them as he kept driving into me, again and again until he thrust hard, deep, my body jerked powerfully with it but he stayed planted and his head went back, the veins in his
neck stood out and his groan of release filled the room.
Yes. Oh hell yes.
When he was done he collapsed on me and my lungs compressed at his immense weight but I held it not but a second before he rolled so I was on top and he was still inside me.
My cheek was to his chest and that was all I could see but I could feel him inside me, the ache from his thrusts so freaking sweet, one of his hands was in my hair and his other arm was wrapped around me.
And all that was him under me, in me, all around me, I touched the top of the happiness scale and hit bliss.
Then I blinked.
Then I thought, okay, shit, now what did I do?
Before my mind could sort it out, my mouth decided.
“Um… suffice it to say, I don’t want you calling me Sjofn anymore.”
His body stilled under mine for a long moment then it started rocking like he was laughing. His fingers fisted gently in my hair and tugged even more gently but I knew what he wanted. I sucked in breath and with it, courage, lifted my head to look at him and saw his beautiful eyes warm on me.
Yes.
Oh hell yes.
“Does this mean my Finnie is back?” he asked quietly.
“Yes,” I answered quietly then my mouth kept talking, “and she missed you.”
At my words, his eyes closed instantly and he rolled me, disconnecting us (sadly). He laid me on my back but his big, warm body stayed pressed close to mine and I watched his eyes open.
God, I’d missed his beautiful brown-green eyes with their dark, thick fringe of lashes, especially when they were looking at me like they were looking at me then. Not that I’d ever seen that particular look, exactly. It was warmer, sweeter, and definitely better since it said he knew the feel of the most intimate part of me and, obviously, he really freaking liked it.
“Um… just for your information,” my mouth, clearly detached from my brain, kept going, “I’m not all that into this Gales business. So, you know, if you feel like company on this gig you’ve got going, um… I’m available.”
Frey grinned.
Then he said, low and rumbly, “Wife, if you think I’m going to further discover your significant charms in my cold cabin on a ship filled with my men, I must inform you that you are very wrong.”
Wildest Dreams Page 22