Sweetest Fall

by Viola Grace

  Lugh came up to her and gave her a courtly bow. “Your steed awaits.”

  She muttered as she got up, “Are you talking about you or the horse?”

  He laughed and escorted her to the door where a set of thigh-high boots were waiting for her.

  “You are kidding.”

  He smiled. “I think it will give a fascinating contrast to the bits of thigh that will be exposed on the saddle.”

  “How many people are going to see me like this?”

  Lugh chuckled. “There are only three here today. They won’t care.”

  Orla sighed and put on the boots. There was a slight heel, but everything else was butter-soft leather that reached the top of her thighs.

  “Right. I am good.”

  Lugh was staring at her, and he obviously had a thought. “May I take some photographs of you?”

  She blinked. “What?”

  “I have a friend who writes fantasy romance, and I think you would be an excellent cover model.”

  Orla stared at him. “You are joking.”

  “I am not joking. I will send him the images, and if he likes them, you can sign a release and collect a fee.” He smiled. “You don’t have to, but I think that you and your horse will make a striking image.”

  “I don’t have a horse.”

  Lugh grinned and got himself ready to head out. “The mare has been pining for you for all this time. She has been threatening me if I didn’t successfully woo you.”

  He opened the door, and to her surprise, she didn’t feel the cold through the dress. Whatever it was made from was sturdy stuff.

  He offered her his arm, and they left the house to head toward the stables. She sighed. “So, this is eventually going to calm down, right? I mean, as we get to know each other.”

  He chuckled. “Maybe, maybe not. My nature is to be constantly busy and to set things in place. All of the kings share a nature with their season or element.”

  “Why so many kings?”

  “Because that was the way things were done. There were layers of kings, which meant that they were responsible for the things under their purview. I report to a high king and queen, but they have left to recede beyond Underhill.”

  “Why were you all left behind?”

  He smiled. “We are tied to this realm through our interference in the seasons and habits of man.”

  The snow crunched underfoot. The fey that were working with the horses faded away. They walked toward the paddock, and the entire herd thundered toward them. Orla smiled as the mare took the forward position, and she walked toward her four-footed friend; and the mare stopped while the other horses broke around her in waves that curled outward.

  “It is good to see you again. Did you want to take me on a tour?”

  A bridle and saddle appeared on the horse; reins materialized out of nothing. Orla smiled. “Huh, I thought it was Lugh that did that.”

  The mare snorted derisively.

  “Ah, you decide who gets on. Right. Well, give me a minute; this is going to be a bit messy.”

  She went to put her foot in the stirrup, and hands gripped her and set her on the horse. She got her feet into place, and Lugh patted her thigh before he got on his own mount.

  When they were both seated, he looked at her. “How about we have a wager?”

  She turned her horse, and they took off before he could finish the rest of his thought.

  Chapter Seven

  The thunder of hooves in the snow was a delightful sound. Orla kept herself low over the mare’s neck as they crossed the landscape.

  They ran until the house was a speck in the distance, and then, the mare turned and started to return toward the house. There was just one problem. There were two over-exerted males in their way.

  “So, mistress, do you want to go left or right?”

  The mare went straight, the stallion swerved, and Lugh reached out and pulled her out of the saddle.

  He held her across his lap and smile at her. “Having fun?”

  “Loads. Can I continue my ride?”

  He smiled. “Sort of. There will be a change of mounts.”

  He lifted her and sat her down facing him, her heels digging into his calves. Her mind worked out the logistics, but it wasn’t until he slid his fingers against her that she realized he was dead serious.

  Instead of peeling her dress off or making it disappear, he found a nipple through the fabric, and he used the heat of his mouth and his tongue to taunt her. She squirmed and moaned, threading her fingers around his neck until he switched, and the cold wind stung her skin. She groaned. “Oh, you jerk.”

  His fingers moved into her, two and then three. She was letting out breathy cries, and when he had figured out that she was just on the edge of control, he opened his jeans, freed himself, and lifted her to slide onto him.

  She let out a low grown as he settled inside her, and he grinned as he whispered, “Hang on.”

  The sensation of him thrashing rhythmically inside her caused her first orgasm to hit hard and strong, but they continued to ride for half an hour, and she lost count of the number of times that she screamed and flexed around him. He had shouted and shook at least twice before he slowed, and she leaned against his chest for support. Her chest was heaving like a bellows, and the winter air was forming huge gouts of mist as she gulped for air.

  She pressed her forehead to his chest, and she swayed dizzily. He wrapped his arms around her, and he withdrew from her, setting her across his lap. She felt him tucking himself back in, but she could smell sex in the air around them.

  She curled up against him and relaxed. The walk back to the house took a lot longer than the run out. He held her carefully, and she didn’t feel uncertain of her seat at any time. Even when they approached the gate and their mount picked up speed to launch up and over the fence, she merely rocked back and forth, secure that neither male would drop her.

  They were walked right up to the house, and Lugh held her as he dismounted. He carried her into the house, kicked off his boots, and took a step that ended with them in his bedroom.

  “What are you doing?”

  He chuckled. “I am giving you a bath. It was colder than I had accounted for, and you are slightly hypothermic right now. I am an idiot, and when you are back up to temperature, I will ask your forgiveness.”

  She looked at him, and then, she closed her eyes. “Whatever. I just want to nap now.”

  He grunted and jostled her. “Stay awake, Orla. Please.”

  He sat her on the edge of a free-standing tub, and he had her support herself while he removed her clothing.

  She chuckled weakly. “No magical disappearance?”

  He shook his head. “No. I am worried, and I don’t want to remove something that is important to your surviving.”

  She blinked as that struck her. “Oh. Okay.”

  He got her to her feet and pulled her dress and the underskirt up and away. She shivered, and the tub filled with water that was just slightly warmer than room temperature.

  She wrapped her arms around her, one across her breasts and the other across the join of her thighs where she still felt distinctly sticky.

  When the water was at a level that he had figured out, he lifted her and set her carefully in the water.

  She shivered and sat with her knees up and her arms around them. “Was this part of your plan to keep me overnight?”

  He huffed. “No. Not the hypothermia. Just the pleasant exhaustion. I was just trying to run out the daylight, and I forgot how the elements affect you.”

  She slowly lifted a hand and gave him the finger.

  He chuckled. “There you are.”

  He summoned some tea and handed her the cup. “Drink.”

  She grimaced. “Bully.”

  “Until you are well. Yes.” He sighed and sat next to the tub, keeping the water warm and plying her with tea.

  “So, when I am well,
I can head on my way?”

  He gave her a long look. “Do you want to leave?”

  Orla paused and was honest. “No. I want to stay. I am just not seeing a link between my human life and yours.”

  He nodded. “There is only one thing for it.”

  “What?” She was slightly alarmed by his glee.

  “We will have to get married by my customs and yours.”

  “Oh, no, that isn’t necessary. I mean, if I am pregnant, I will keep you in the loop, but we don’t have to—”

  His hand covered her mouth. “We do. Human life is a wonderful thing, but it is short. A handfasting binds us together, and a proper wedding makes our connection legal for any and all children that will come after. It will also make any descendants we have able to trace back their bloodlines more easily.”

  She exhaled. “I... I don’t know what a handfasting is.”

  He grinned. “We walk out into the woods, pledge ourselves to each other, and the magic does the rest.”

  “You make it sound so simple.”

  He extended his hand, and she placed her wet fingers in his. “It is just that simple.”

  She smiled as he turned her palm around and kissed it. A word welled up in her, and she gritted her teeth as she felt her aching body stirring again.

  Lugh looked up from her fingers in concern. “What is it?”

  She leaned forward and was a few inches from his mouth. “More.”

  He closed the distance, and their lips met softly. The kiss did more to warm her than the water was doing. When she had warmed up thoroughly, he lifted her out of the water and wrapped her up in a towel. He removed the towel at the bedside, tucked her in, and he crawled in next to her. “Stay warm, and stay with me.”

  She smiled and was wrapped in warmth as she dozed off. She tried to guess at what a handfasting entailed, but she couldn’t figure it out.

  When the dawn was scratching at the window, she sat up, and she noted that a few things were different. The first thing was that she was alone, the second was that her hair was loose, and she rarely wore it loose, and the third was that she hadn’t been woken with foreplay. That was disappointing.

  She got up, and there was a black, gold, and dark green gown on the bed. The undergown was a rich orange that wouldn’t clash with her hair.

  Orla got dressed, pulled on the above-the-knee black boots, and she went in search of Lugh.

  At the door, there was a cloak and gloves. She took the hint.

  She walked out of the house with her hair loose, and the wind toyed with it as she went looking for Lugh. None of the fey were working at the stables, so she went to the paddock where her friend walked up to her. They had a moment of silent greeting before the bridle and saddle were in place.

  Orla looked around and easily got herself up in the saddle. The mare snorted and shook her head in amusement. “Do you know where he is?”

  The mare nodded, and her own mate was missing, so he was probably with Lugh.

  “Right. Shall we?”

  They went for a leisurely canter through the meadows and then a slow walk through the woods. Orla could see figures moving through the trees, and when the mare came to a halt, they were in a clearing. Lugh was wearing what could only be full autumn king regalia, and the stallion was standing nearby.

  The mare went to stand with him, and she nipped her mate on the neck, and he did the same.

  Orla got down and stepped toward Lugh; the carpet of a rainbow of autumn leaves was all around them. He smiled. “I am glad you have arrived. I was getting nervous.”

  She took the hands he held out to her. He drew her close. They were standing under an archway of twisted tree branches; vines, pumpkins, and gourds were growing up and over them; it was a lovely representation of autumn.

  “Orla, I was told when I was young that the woman who was to be mine would appear in that pool. It wasn’t until the day you bathed in it that I understood the foretelling. I offer myself to you for my lifetime, share my power, my wealth, my love, my life, and my bed.”

  She smiled at the last one, but he winked and kept going. “Take my hand, my life, and all that I am.”

  She knew that it was her turn to talk, so she spoke from the heart. “Lugh, I was not expecting you. My time with you has alternated between fear, frustration, paranoia, pleasure, and joy. Even forgetting you, my heart broke when you were not in my life. That hollow feeling is not something I want to experience again. I don’t need all you have, I just need you, but I will take all that you will offer.”

  A golden ribbon descended from the sky and wrapped their hands together. Lugh leaned in, and she leaned up. As they kissed, the ribbon tightened and then slipped away. Their hands held together as the kiss grew more intense.

  He leaned back. “We are going to have to take the horses back.”

  She grinned. “Would you like to race?”

  He chuckled. “What are the stakes?”

  She twisted her lips. “You make breakfast?”

  He grinned. “I would have done that anyway. You on your hands and knees for me with no words.”

  “That is a tall order. Does that include no sounds?” She started to walk back toward the horses.

  “It definitely does not. I want to hear everything, even a hungry belly.” He chuckled and began to move around on her. His oak leaf crown was gleaming.

  If she didn’t know he wouldn’t injure a hair on her head, she would have been a little intimidated.

  “Done.”

  She turned and ran to the mare that met her halfway. She was up, in the saddle, and they were on their way through the woods before he had gotten to his mount. The travel through the forest was nerve-racking, but then, they made it out, and the mare streaked away. The huffing of the stallion became the sound of pursuit. She kept her focus on the approaching house and the fencing. She had never done a jump in real life before.

  The mare rode toward the fence, and then, she jumped. Orla crouched low and tried to remain still, breathing easier as they thudded on the other side, and the mare continued to the house. They were nearly there when the stallion thudded from his jump next to them, and he cut them off when they were just ten feet from the steps.

  Orla was breathing heavily. “Did they cheat?”

  The mare shook her head. She was breathing hard and looking at the stallion.

  Orla whispered. “Are you in heat?”

  The mare gave her a doleful look and a small nod of her head.

  “It’s okay, sweetie, so am I.”

  Chapter Eight

  She stalked past a very smug Lugh when she reached out and grabbed the front of his embroidered tunic, cloak, and whatever she could catch. She hauled him into the house.

  The mare and stallion began to pace around each other, and they headed back to the paddock, where they began to dance together.

  True to the agreement, Orla didn’t say a word. Her wrists chimed slightly as there was some kind of bell on the bracelets, but nothing passed her lips.

  When they were standing in the bedroom, she undid her cloak, left on her gloves, boots, and dress. She crawled onto the edge of the bed and posed on her hands and knees.

  He smiled. “While I appreciate your enthusiasm, you can disrobe.”

  She looked at him with narrowed eyes and made the time out signal. “You said hands and knees; you never defined the style of dress or undress. You want to see it? Go looking for it.”

  He nodded. “Fair enough.”

  It was somewhere when he used a knife on the back of her dress to peel it open like a banana skin that she realized she might have miscalculated.

  She was wearing the orange underdress and her own nerve to stand up to him. That nerve was waning quickly. He slid his hand up her thigh and moved the dress out of the way, running his tongue along the edge of her boot top, and then, he parted her legs and continued his upward journey.

  She moaned when he c
losed his lips over her clit and flicked it with his tongue. She shivered, and her thoughts were lost in a haze of caresses, licking, stroking, and finally, he slid into her. The groan of relief turned to a gasp as he withdrew and then slammed back in.

  She dug her gloved hands into the bedding and grunted as he thrust into her over and over. She rocked her hips in time with his and shivered as the slide brought her closer to orgasm. He dropped so that he was flat against her back, and he groaned and thrust deep as he bit sharply at the base of her neck.

  Her scream heralded her orgasm, and as her body pulsed around his, her elbows got weak. She held herself up, and then, she slowly slumped toward the bedding when the aftershocks had faded.

  He followed her to the bedding, kissing the side of her neck softly. “Now, what does my wife want for breakfast?”

  She elbowed back at him, but he moved. He slid out of her, and she went up on her elbow to face him. He was looking horribly smug.

  She glared at him, looked him up and down, and then, she growled. “Pancakes.”

  She got off the bed and smoothed the silk over her, removing her gloves with light tugs. He was looking at her bemused as she tossed her gloves to the bed. She sat down and removed the boots.

  “You know, I can go and feed myself, husband.” She glanced at him. “I can do a lot of things myself.” She set her boots neatly on the floor.”

  She glanced toward him, and he was gone. She laughed. She didn’t know if he had heard her offer, but she was getting pancakes. She headed to the bathroom, washed up, and then headed downstairs, wearing the thin orange gown and the bracelets that she had to stare at to see.

  She wove her hair into a loose braid on her way down and found him in the kitchen wearing a set of trousers and nothing else.

  She walked up to the white-on-white kitchen. “Can I help?”

  He glanced over at her and shook his head. “If you can make some coffee, that would be great.”

  She nodded and found the supplies, loading a French press, and pouring the hot kettle of water slowly over the coffee grounds. Once the coffee sat for a while, she picked up the carafe and rocked it quickly to work up a foam. When it had the look she wanted, she put the plunger in and slowly pressed it down.