This time, the kiss was ravenous, a deep mutual claiming. Tongue swirling, lips pressing hard, teeth biting. Cheryl didn’t wince when one of his fangs scored her lower lip. Instead, she hooked an arm around his neck and leaped up, easy as a cat, to snap both her legs around his narrow waist.
He made a little startled sound against her lips and grabbed for her ass, steadying her. “Don’t worry,” she purred. “I’ve got you.”
Ulf grinned, flashing fangs. “You certainly do.”
Her eyes locked with his, she flexed her legs, lifting herself. Their bodies were slick, but she was strong. She let him feel that strength as she raised herself up his body. Knowing what she wanted, he reached down and angled his cock upward. Held it steady as she slid downward, taking him.
He made a deep, hungry sound, and she grinned into his eyes, loving the feel of him gliding deep until he was seated to the balls. Lazily, they began to kiss again, as he tangled his fist in her hair. It was a little awkward -- he had to curl down to meet her, because he was ten inches taller.
“You stay still this time,” she said, a rough edge of command in her voice.
A smile lit his eyes. “As my lady wills.” He leaned back against the wall of the shower, bracing himself at an angle as she began to thrust down on him using her tight, long-legged grip. He released one butt cheek to reach between them and find her clit. Purring, she ground up and down. Each slick thrust shot pleasure through her, a delight he stoked with his thumb over her tight button.
Biting her lip, Cheryl ground faster, rising and falling harder, circling her hips as she did so that that deliciously long shaft teased every sensitive bundle of nerves she had.
All the while they fucked, Ulf’s gaze never left hers, growing hotter. Wolf-fierce and hungry. She ground down with an edge of savagery, as everything began to fall away but the exquisite spiral of pleasure. The hard, male body angled against hers, the slab of his shoulders under her hands. The slap and slide of their skin filled the shower with its own sensual percussion.
His fierce turquoise eyes lost focus as pleasure clawed its way toward orgasm. Fangs showed white and sharp in his gasping mouth. At the sight of them, she grabbed his shoulders and dug her nails in, grinding harder as his thumb raked her clit. Harder and harder and…
The fireball of climax rocketed from clit to brainstem like a Roman candle. She threw back her head and screamed.
His bellow made the tile ring, a deeper echo to her own high-pitched cry.
“Bite me!” she demanded in a breathless voice.
And came again when he did.
* * *
It seemed to her that the world was rising around them. Her eyes flared open, and she realized he was sliding down the wall of the shower with her clinging to him like a spider monkey. Until they landed in a heap, his arms and legs around her, holding her close as they panted.
His fangs stung as he withdrew them from her throat. “Damn, woman,” he groaned, resting his chin on the top of her head. “You fucked my brains out.”
She chuckled and reached up to stroke his hair. It occurred to her they should probably get up off the floor, but it seemed like too much trouble. For a long moment, they just sat there, Cheryl in his lap, his softened cock still inside her.
“There’s this thing you do,” she said at last, her voice sounding a little dreamy. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about it.”
“What thing?” he asked, working to catch his breath.
“You keep calling me your wife. You told Arthur ‘Don’t threaten my wife.’ And in Gaia’s memories, I saw that’s how you always thought of me, even when we hadn’t seen each other in years.”
He sighed and cupped the side of her face in a big palm. “Because in my heart, that’s what you’ve always been. I should have married you to begin with, but I kept telling myself you…”
“Yeah, don’t finish that sentence.”
He opened his mouth to speak, probably ready to take the blame again.
Cheryl laid a finger on his lips, silencing him. His gold brows flew upward. “From now on, no more lies, no more spells. We will be equal or nothing.”
His snorted. “Wouldn’t being my equal be a come-down for you? You are the goddess in this relationship.”
“Stop that. I’m serious.”
The smile fled his lips. “No more lies. No more spells. Equal.”
She licked her lips. “Then, Sir Baldulf of the Round Table, will you marry me?”
Ulf blinked at her, staring in astonishment, off-balance. “Isn’t that my line?”
“Not this time.”
Just as she was starting to get a little nervous, he grinned like the sun coming up. “But… your job. I have to stay in the Mageverse at least part of the time -- my body needs the magic it absorbs during the Daysleep…”
“That’s why Merlin made dimensional gates. I’m willing to spend time there if you’re willing to spend time here. Hell, I’ll even help with the Great Mission, if you can convince Arthur not to be a dick about it. As to my job…” Cheryl frowned, trying to envision the best way to handle that issue, then shrugged. “Well, I’ll make it work until it doesn’t.” She lifted a brow. “I still haven’t heard an answer.”
“Hell, yes!” Grinning with every tooth in his head -- including the fangs -- he dragged her into his arms. And started making magic all over again.
Angela Knight
New York Times best-selling author Angela Knight’s first book was written in pencil and illustrated in crayon; she was nine years old at the time. A few years later, she read The Wolf and the Dove and fell in love with romance. In addition to her fiction work, Angela’s publishing career includes a stint as a comic book writer and ten years as a newspaper reporter. Several of her stories have won South Carolina Press Association awards. Angela lives in South Carolina with her husband, Michael, a detective with the Spartanburg PD.
Angela at Changeling: changelingpress.com/angela-knight-a-26
Master of Honor (Merlin's Legacy 5) Page 13