Mad, Bad & Dangerous

by Cat Marsters

  Then he sucked in a hard breath again because Kett was standing over him, gloriously naked, her hands on her hips and her breasts, her wonderful breasts, rising and falling.

  “You know, I did promise,” she said, as if she was convincing herself.

  “It’s okay,” Bael assured her. “I won’t think any less of you.” He smoothed away a drop of pre-cum. Kett licked her lips and he’d swear she wasn’t aware of it.

  “I mean,” she said a little breathlessly, her eyes locked on his cock, “you can’t, you know, just whack yourself off like this. Not when there’s someone else in the room. It’s just…just…”

  She licked her lips again. Bael tried very hard not to smile.

  “I mean, I could help you out,” she said. “Return the favor.”

  “Right,” Bael said. He cupped his own balls. “Very kind of you.”

  “I’m not kind,” Kett snapped, but without any force whatsoever. Her silvery eyes were glittering. She leaned closer and closer, falling to her knees and reaching for his hips. Her breath feathered his cock. Her breasts brushed his thigh.

  “Of course you’re not, sweetheart,” he said breathlessly.

  “Call me sweetheart again and I’ll bite it off,” Kett said mildly, and then she finally, finally lowered her head and brushed her lips over his cock.

  “Oh gods,” Bael said.

  “Damn right,” Kett mumbled, before opening her mouth and taking him inside.

  Bael lost track of what happened after that. All he was aware of was pure sensation, pleasure slamming through him, her hot, wet mouth doing amazing, wonderful, incredible things to his aching penis.

  When he came he cried out her name, and she swallowed it all down.

  “Okay,” she said, her voice a little thick. “Better?”

  She stood up, a little wobbly, then her leg gave way and she fell onto him. Bael didn’t mind one bit and gathered her closer, fitting her body against his.

  “Much better,” he agreed. “Any time you need me to insult someone, you just let me know. More than happy.”

  “I’ll bet,” Kett said, wriggling. “Let me go.”

  “And ruin my afterglow? Tell you what,” he let her sit up and was delighted to feel her pussy sopping wet against his stomach, “you go back to bed…” She started to get off him and he let her. “And I’ll come with you and then we’ll both be happy.”

  Kett paused, on her knees astride him.

  “I promise I’ll be good,” he said, grinning and slipping one hand between her legs. She was so wet, puffy and swollen for him. Her eyelids fluttered as he stroked her.

  “You better be,” she said, and Bael followed her happily to that big, soft bed.

  One day, Kett, he thought as she stretched out, all naked and incredibly desirable, one day you’ll stop fighting yourself on this.

  But I hope to all the gods you’ll never stop fighting me.

  * * * * *

  Kett woke in the morning with Bael’s arms around her and his warm chest pillowing her cheek.

  It was a damn pleasant way to wake up, and something Kett was getting cozily used to. Which made her scowl, because getting used to anything with Bael was not a good idea.

  She mulled idly over the previous day’s events, absently stroking his shoulder as she did. Striker irritating the dragon. The hideous duke and duchess. Giving head to Bael.

  Mmm.

  But hard on the heels of that thought was the one that said, You introduced him to your family as your boyfriend. And it’s Yule. There is absolutely no way you can tell them you were just joking around, not today. And anyway, after that huge snog yesterday in the dining room in front of them, they’d never believe it.

  She sighed. Looked like she was going to have to carry on pretending while she was here. Pretend Bael really was her boyfriend. Eat dinner with him. Share a room with him. Have lots of scorching sex with him.

  Well, it had its upside.

  And then after Yule she could leave, tell her family she and Bael had broken up, and go back to normal. Go back to the cabin in the mountains with Jarven and the dragons, and avoid human contact for the rest of her—

  Oh piss. Except for that damn cave. She really had to talk to Bael about that.

  Bael stirred beneath her, his green eyes opening and smiling at her. “Morning,” he said, sleepy and unshaven and disheveled, and Kett’s brain switched off completely for a moment.

  “Hi,” she breathed. Then, still trying to connect her brain to the rest of her body, she added, “Happy Yule.”

  He frowned. “That’s today?”

  “Yep.” Kett pushed her hair out of her eyes. “Same day every year.”

  “Oh. I saw the signs in the shops and stuff on my way in. I figured it was soon. Uh, happy Yule.”

  Kett frowned. “Nasc don’t celebrate Yule?”

  “No, not really. It’s a human thing.”

  Kett supposed it was. Still, it was strange—Yule was a huge winter festival in Peneggan and Angeland, and in large parts of Euskara too. Surely he must be aware of what went on?

  “What do you, er, do?” Bael asked. “To celebrate?”

  “Uh,” Kett said. Usually she went down to the pub for a few beers and tried to persuade Jarven to join her for a proper meal. After that, she went home and did what she did every other day. But then, Kett was aware she wasn’t exactly normal. Her family had proper Yule traditions that she didn’t usually join in with.

  “We, er, exchange presents,” she said, realizing she should have brought some. “And cook a…feast. And, er…I think people go to temple.”

  “Isn’t Yule some winter solstice celebration?” Bael asked.

  “Probably. Oh, and there’s the Yule Ball,” Kett added, on safer ground now. “It’s the triplets’ birthday, so there’s always this big party for it.”

  “Here?”

  “Yep.”

  “Are you going?”

  “Probably,” Kett said morosely. Usually she liked to think she was in charge of her own life, but there was no way in the Realm Nuala was ever going to let her escape the party now that she was here.

  “You don’t like it?”

  “It’s full of people like those from yesterday,” Kett said. Nuala always ended up inviting people for diplomatic purposes whom no one else could stand. The good news was that it was a big party, so they were usually avoidable. The bad news was the really irritating ones were everywhere.

  “Oh. Well, cheer up. I’ll come with you and we can insult all the really hideous ones, and for every one that leaves you can give me another blowjob. In fact,” Bael was running his hands down her back, “let’s make a game of it. For every one I run out of the party, you go down on me, and for every one you run out of the party, I’ll go down on you. Deal?”

  In spite of herself, Kett smiled. Yesterday notwithstanding, she was pretty sure she could be way more unbearable than Bael. After all, she’d spent her whole life practicing.

  “Deal,” she said.

  “Excellent.” Bael kissed her and she relaxed into his body, warm and sleepy but becoming less so by the second. Especially when his fingers started tracing patterns farther down her back to her buttocks, and slipping in between.

  “In fact,” Bael said against her mouth, “theoretically I got rid of two of them last night. So don’t you owe me?”

  Kett rolled her eyes, privately thinking the same thing. Going down on Bael was no hardship. Not at all. His thick, heavy cock had felt so damn good in her mouth. It had been ages since anyone had come down her throat—ages since she’d let anyone—but he’d tasted delicious.

  However. “Not until you shower, mate,” she said, sitting up. She was feeling pretty grubby herself, and now that she looked at the bed she could see dirt all over it. Whoops. Well, it was a good thing Nuala’s staff was so diligent.

  “Mmm,” Bael said, sitting up with her and nuzzling her throat. “You’re all dirty too. What were you doing, cleaning chimneys yesterday?
”

  “Dragons,” Kett said, her voice squeaking a little as he found a sensitive spot on her throat. “Occupational hazard.”

  “Mmm,” Bael said again. “Well, in that case, maybe we should both shower. I’ll clean you if you clean me.”

  Kett thought for a second about Bael all naked and wet and found herself nodding vigorously. But she’d no sooner pushed back the covers than someone hammered on the door and two identical voices yelled, “Happy Yule, Kett!”

  She winced. Her sisters, who didn’t seem to have grown up at all since they were old enough to talk.

  “Wake up,” cried one of them.

  “Or we’ll come in and wake you up!”

  “I’m awake,” Kett called grumpily.

  “Good, ’cos we didn’t really want to come in and see what you’re doing with Bael.”

  One of them giggled. “Daddy’d probably disown us.”

  “Yeah, ’cos we don’t know what any of that stuff is.”

  “I mean, honestly, how old does he think we are?”

  “He was younger than us when you were born!”

  “He so can’t lecture us about this.”

  Sighing, Kett reached for her shirt, tugged it down over her thighs and wriggled away from Bael to open the door.

  “Was there a point to this?”

  Beyla and Eithne beamed up at her, blonde and ringletted in their perfectly tailored, full-length, structured and petticoated dressing gowns. They looked like cake decorations.

  “Happy Yule!” they chorused.

  “Happy Yule. And happy birthday.”

  “Happy Yule, Bael!”

  Kett glanced back. He had the covers pooled around his waist and was looking delightfully sleepy, scruffy and sexy.

  “Yeah,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “Right back atcha.”

  They giggled in tandem.

  “Come on and get dressed,” Beyla said.

  “We’re having breakfast in Mama’s suite.”

  Kett looked at their bright, eager faces, then back at Bael again. The bedcovers were tented over his lap.

  “Guys, I was kind of busy,” she said.

  “Kett!” Eithne’s eyes widened with mock surprise.

  “We’re not supposed to know about things like that,” Beyla admonished.

  “Well, you’re not,” Eithne said, a touch smugly.

  “I could know!” Beyla cried.

  “Girls,” Kett interrupted before they went any further.

  “Come and have breakfast,” Eithne said.

  “Mama won’t let us start until everyone’s there, and I’m starving.” Beyla turned pleading eyes on Kett.

  “No, you just want to open your presents,” Eithne said.

  “Yes, and Daddy won’t let us do that until we’ve had breakfast!”

  They looked so woeful, Kett nearly laughed.

  “All right,” she said, and they both cheered and hugged her. She backed away, making a face. “Look, just give me five minutes for a shower, okay?”

  “Oh, like that’s what you’re going to use it for,” Eithne giggled.

  “I’m dirty,” Kett protested, grabbing a handful of her filthy hair.

  “You certainly are,” Bael interjected, which made the girls giggle again.

  “Five minutes,” Beyla said. “And then we’re coming back!”

  “And this time, we won’t knock!” Eithne warned.

  They retreated and Kett closed the door, leaning against it, her eyes closed. When she opened them, Bael was grinning at her.

  “A shower, huh?”

  “Yes,” she said, pushing off from the door. “Which I shall be taking alone.”

  “Oh,” he pouted. “No fair.”

  “Yes fair,” she said. “I need to get clean. I ain’t having breakfast with my family covered in soot and smelling of sex.”

  He grabbed her as she passed him and nuzzled her neck. “I think you smell good,” he said.

  “Then you’re weird.” Kett broke away and made for the bathroom. She paused. “I think the room next door is empty if you want to use the bathroom.”

  “Are you sure I can’t share yours?”

  For a second, Kett allowed herself the fantasy of Bael in the shower, wet and soapy, steam rising from his skin as he pushed her back against the wall and kissed her hard as he slid his cock against her. Moisture dampened her thighs.

  They could go on for hours…

  “Sure,” she said firmly, and shut the bathroom door.

  Chapter Eight

  Bael stepped out of the shower to find clean clothes lain out on the bed. They fit pretty well, leaving him to wonder just whose they were. He wasn’t as broad as Kett’s father and he was a good deal taller than her brother. The clothes looked too fine to belong to a servant. For a moment he considered the possibility that they’d belonged to an ex of Kett’s, but judging by the reaction of her family last night, she wasn’t in the habit of bringing men home.

  Weird.

  He dressed and went next door to Kett’s room, hoping to surprise her before she’d finished getting dressed. He was out of luck. She was just pulling on her boots, dressed in a cleaner version of the clothes she’d had on yesterday. Her damp hair was slung back in a thick braid and she smelled of something fresh and lemony.

  “Are you sure we have to go for breakfast?” he asked.

  “Yeah.” She hesitated. “Listen, Bael. I need to ask you something and whenever I try, you keep distracting me.”

  He grinned, remembering the distractions.

  “That cave,” she said. “There were symbols on the walls, and all those burned bodies, the silver chain…that was some sort of ritual.”

  His smile slipped. Disappeared.

  She knows you’re Nasc. You can’t let her know you’re a Mage.

  Could he keep the secret for the rest of his life?

  Did he need to?

  “Maybe,” he said. “I don’t know.”

  “Well, it clearly was. What I wanted to ask was, can you think of anyone who might have done it? Any enemies?”

  Bael shrugged. “I don’t have any enemies,” he said lightly. At Kett’s frankly disbelieving look, he forced a laugh and said, “Oh, maybe a disgruntled lover or two…”

  “Any of them know magic?”

  “Nope. No one I know knows magic. No one knows. I know no one who knows,” he babbled.

  Kett looked skeptical. “And those symbols? On the walls?”

  “Didn’t see any symbols. It was dark,” he protested. “Look, Kett, why is this even important? We’re here, we’re both safe and, well, it’s Yule, it’s—”

  “It’s a ritual that could have gotten us both killed!” Kett said. “Whoever strung us up there clearly wasn’t intending to give us tea and cakes afterward. That was something dark, and I’ve researched but I can’t find anything, not even—”

  “Not even what?” Bael asked, alarmed. What did she know about magic? The Federación recruited from all over the place. Strong, young men and women to fight for them. To kidnap magical creatures and take them apart, like dissecting a clock to find the tick. They’d taken the Nasc princess once, the king’s sister, and held her for months before she’d been rescued.

  The Federación had operatives everywhere.

  But not Kett. Surely not his Kett. She’d helped to rescue the princess from the Federación. Or so she’d said.

  She glared at him, her chest heaving, looking like she wanted to say something, to glower and shout and accuse, but in the end she just shook her head and said, “Never mind. Maybe it’s normal for you to wake up in a cave with a stranger.”

  “Kett,” he began, and she waved him away. He sighed. “Are we going to breakfast?”

  “I’m going,” she said. “You can do whatever the hell you like.”

  She left the room and Bael followed, once more cursing his heritage. Of course he didn’t like being left in the dark about the cave, but didn’t she know there were much more dangerous
things out there than some made-up symbols and a silver chain?

  Kett led him down wide corridors lined with portraits of handsome, dark-haired men and charming blonde women. They all looked vaguely familiar—Tyrnan’s and Nuala’s families, he guessed.

  He shook himself and tried to make conversation.

  “Hey, were you born here?”

  “No.”

  “Where were you born?” he asked as they sidestepped a large, hairy dog of the kind usually found decorating a hearthrug.

  “In the south.”

  “Whereabouts?”

  “Little village, middle of nowhere.”

  She didn’t seem inclined to give much more information. Bael thought for a moment, then said, “Emreland’s not local, is it?”

  “Nope.”

  “Isn’t it across the Wall in Angeland somewhere?”

  “Yep.”

  “So…your dad’s Anglish?”

  “Yep.”

  “But you were born in Peneggan?”

  “Yep.”

  He was starting to enjoy this. It was like the game where you could only answer with a yes or no.

  “So, your mother. She live near here?”

  “No.”

  “Where’s she from?”

  “Peneggan.”

  Ah, broke the pattern. “Where’s she now?”

  “Cemetery.”

  He flinched. “Sorry.”

  “Ain’t your fault. I barely knew her.”

  “My parents are both dead,” he said. “When I was a teenager.” And the bloody bastards came to the attention of the Federación and now they know there’s another one of us out there.

  She glanced at him. “D’you miss ’em?”

  Bael hesitated. That was an odd question. “I didn’t know them well,” he said. “Apparently they were brilliant.”

  Kett snorted. “So says every orphan.”

  “No, I mean, brilliant mentally. My dad was some sort of genius.”

  “That’s nice.”

  “Rich too.” He watched to see her reaction.

  “Yippee.” Was that sarcasm?

  “But I guess your family is too.”

  “Looks like it.”

  She pushed open a set of double doors and they were immediately greeted with cries of “Happy Yule!” and hugs from everyone. Kett tolerated the physical contact like he tolerated visits from the dentist.