by Ann Gimpel
I wondered if that had occurred to him, but it was a minor point buried amongst everything else. Once we settled over tea, I began talking. As I’d hoped, me revealing some of my hard-to-admit places encouraged him to do the same. After a while, he was thinking again. Not simply reacting. The anger-saturated stranger departed, and he felt like the man I’d come to appreciate and respect.
And love, if I were honest.
When he pushed back from the table and opened his arms to me, I didn’t hesitate. Hunger carved a path through me. I craved his arms around me and his mouth on mine. When he kissed me, I tumbled into a hot tide of heat and need. His lips were the same, yet not. Chiseled and demanding, his mouth held fire and promise.
Maybe it was our dragon natures calling to each other. Or maybe I have a hopelessly romantic streak that I’ve buried so deep I scarcely recognize it when it comes out to play.
He bit my lower lip. I bit back, adding light kisses atop the place to soothe the sting. When he sank his tongue into my mouth, I sucked on it and teased it with mine. He ran his hands down my back until he cupped my ass, snugging me against his growing erection.
Remembering how he’d tasted in my mouth, how he’d responded to everything I’d done to him made shivers run through me. He rained kisses down my neck and then returned to my mouth. I wanted him to do everything, all at the same time. Kiss me. Lick me. Fuck me. Hell, I wanted to do everything to him. My nipples had pebbled, forming hard peaks. Heat spiraled from my belly outward, slicking my thighs. Desire turned into a live thing, tearing at me, demanding my full attention.
Before, Bjorn had been tuned in to my needs, recognizing my reticence to make love because of what such a binding might mean down the road. That part of him was gone, probably courtesy of Hel removing the glamour she’d hidden him behind.
Both of us were panting as we ground our mouths and bodies together. He kneaded the globes of my ass and thrust the hot, hard length of himself into my belly. I’d all but ripped tracks in his shirt as I dug my fingers into his back on my way down to grapple with his high, tight butt.
He had an ass to die for. Thinking about it added one more item to my menu of wanting everything at the same time. I wanted to fuck him and watch him fuck me so I could get off on the muscles rippling along his back and through his ass.
Apparently, I needed a magical mirror. It could be arranged.
He ripped his mouth from mine. Before I could lunge back into his arms and attack his mouth again, the distinctive feel of his power flared around me. I inhaled like a starving woman, losing myself in the mix of the sea and herb-infused hot clay.
Our garments whooshed from us in a small maelstrom and ended up on the floor. Laughter bubbled from me. “Neat trick.”
“I could do it before.” His voice was raspy with desire. “Never could get magic to pry my boots off, though. Guess I still can’t.” He cast a rueful glance downward and bent to grapple with his laces.
I didn’t view mine as an impediment. While he divested himself of his shoes, I walked around him, absorbing small changes to his body that went beyond the added height and whirling dragon eyes. His skin glowed a warm copper. Power had always spilled from him, but it was far more pronounced.
He glanced up at me and grinned. “Do I pass inspection?”
“Do I?” I countered.
He rose to his feet, never breaking eye contact. “You are the most beautiful, the most incredible, the most amazing—”
Laughing, I held up a hand. “Enough. All this praise will go straight to my head, and I’ll become insufferable.”
“Not possible,” he informed me and wrapped his arms around me again. Heat from him seared me as our bodies touched. His cock was the same. Hard. Hot. Big enough I’d needed both hands and my mouth to pleasure him. It was a good idea, and I sank to my knees and ran my tongue around the head of his shaft.
He made the most delightful male sound. It reminded me of a big cat purring. Encouraged, I took him into my mouth. Or the first quarter of him, which was all I could manage. He threaded his fingers into my hair and rocked against my mouth. Our scents and our magic rose around us until the air glistened with desire.
My hands joined my mouth, and I swiped my tongue around the tip at the top of each stroke. His cock expanded, hardened still more as I loved him. The bigger he got, the hotter I got until my nub beat like a second heart. I’d never come with zero direct stimulation before, but an orgasm swirled low in my belly.
He lifted my head and pulled his cock out of my mouth. When I looked up, his eyes were on fire, spinning so fast they drew me into their spell. His nipples had hardened into tiny peaks, and his copper skin had taken on a golden glow.
Welcoming what had to come next, I let him help me to my feet. He picked me up and carried me to his neatly made bed. Laying me down, he stood just looking at me for long moments. “Ye’re so beautiful,” he said in Old Norse. “So lovely.” Bending, he traced a finger from my mouth down my neck to my breasts, stopping to swirl it around each nipple.
Somehow, he ended up first sitting and then lying next to me, and his questing hand had made it to the vee between my legs. The second he spread my sex and touched my nub, the climax that had begun while I was sucking him washed over me. He rubbed harder, intent on pleasuring me, and kept on until I was mostly done. Mostly, because we’d barely begun, and I’d come again before we were through. Maybe a whole bunch of agains.
His mouth crushed down on mine. His tongue pressed into my mouth. Still riding high from my climax, I raked my nails down his back and opened my mouth to his tongue. The kiss didn’t last nearly long enough before he pulled away.
“On your knees, wench.” He still spoke Norse. Maybe his brain was too addled to bother with English.
“How’d you know I love it that way?”
“I dinna, but sooner or later, we’ll do this every way.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” It may have sounded like I was teasing, but I was deadly serious.
“Not about this. Not about you, darling.”
He turned me over and tugged until my butt was in the air. I felt the press of his cock at my entrance and wriggled to encourage him to plumb me. We were on the verge of discovery, of sealing our attraction, our lust. I couldn’t wait. I wanted him with a single-minded intensity that should have scared the hell out of me.
It didn’t. If he’d suddenly crawled off the bed, I’d have followed him and pinned him to the floor while I sank my body over his. We’d passed the point of no return, Bjorn and me. Something bigger than us was in play, driving us, but I didn’t care. If he was my destiny, there were far worse options out there.
He spread my ass cheeks and pushed inside, little by little, allowing me to accommodate his girth. He took his time and waited for long moments once he was all the way inside me. Small muscle twitches provided just enough stimulation to drive me mad. I rocked against him, wanting him to move faster, wanting to savor every moment, wanting him to never leave my body. He reached around my thigh and covered my mound with his hand before fingering my clit.
As slowly as he’d entered me, he pulled back until just the tip of him was inside. More slow strokes. All the way in. All the way out. Meanwhile, he swirled his fingertips around my nub, equally slowly. My frantic need to come again—right now—eased. I relaxed into the rhythm he set. When he upped the cadence, I was right there with him.
Ceding control to another was new for me. Exciting in ways I’d never imagined.
He closed his mouth over the juncture of my neck and shoulder, biting me. It did something, and sexual heat poured through me. Along with the bite, he moved faster and faster, rubbing me all the while. Climax surged, crested, and surged again until my body turned into one long, drawn-out howl of pleasure.
I knew he was close. I sensed it. Tasted it. Felt it in every pore of my existence. Rocking, thrusting, I did everything I could to intensify his sensation. When he came, the contractions spilled through
me, pushed me into one more release. Gasping, panting, moaning, we clung to each other as our passion spent itself. He pulled out of my body, leaving an empty place.
I wanted him back inside, but we’d snatched time that didn’t belong to us as it was. He untangled the rest of our limbs and we ended up on our sides, facing one another, still breathing as if we’d run a hundred kilometers.
He touched my shoulder, the one he’d bitten. Magic glowed, and the wound healed over. “Ye’re mine,” he said, still in Norse.
I nodded. I’d understood making love with him would be a one-way door. We could never go back. And I didn’t want to. “You’re mine as well,” I reminded him.
A slow, lazy smile made him so eerily beautiful, he was hard to look at. I was afraid the image would burn itself into my corneas and everywhere I looked from now on, all I’d see would be him. “I’m good with it,” he said in English, followed by, “Why do you suppose the dragons haven’t bothered us? Quade was in an almighty rush to sweep me off to some borderworld to familiarize myself with my new abilities.”
I thought about it. Surely, the beasts had known what we were doing. We’d made less than zero effort to be quiet, but even if we had, they’d have smelled the pheromones and the sex.
“The only reason they left us be,” I replied, “is because they believe we need to be bonded.”
“Do you suppose they know things they haven’t told us?” He snorted. “Scratch that. Of course, they do. And this could well be one of them.”
“I don’t want to, but we should get up.” I ran a hand down his arm. “I’m tired. I could sleep for days, but I’m sure me zoning out isn’t on the dragons’ approved activity list.”
Bjorn laughed softly. “Probably not.” He touched my bite spot again. “I’m sorry about that. I don’t know what got into me. Did I hurt you?”
“I barely noticed. If I did, it just made things more intense.”
Color rose to his face. “My guess is I marked you with a dragon’s mating bite. I’ve seen them do much the same in the skies above Vanaheim.”
“If my dragon half took exception, we’d have known about it.” I kissed his forehead and rolled so my feet were planted on the floor. Once I was confident my legs would hold me, I tottered over to the sink, grabbed a handy cloth, and did my best to pump water and clean myself.
“We can make it warmer if you want to bathe.” He’d joined me and was dipping a second cloth under the pump’s chilly flow.
“Nah. I’m tough. Besides, I don’t want to take the time. Third reason is if I indulge in a warm bath, I’ll fall asleep.”
He rinsed out his cloth and swatted my butt. “Makes two of us. Sleep won’t loom large in our future, though.”
I cleaned my own washcloth and hung it from a hook. “Really?” I arched a brow in an imitation of a coquette. “And why not?”
“Because if we’re lucky enough to find ourselves prone, we’ll have other priorities.”
“You think?” I smothered a grin but gave up and let it out. I wanted him to want me. Nothing worse than a lover who beat a hasty retreat before his cock was even deflated. I’d had a few of them. Maybe they’d sensed my magic, and it scared the living hell out of them.
I sorted my garments from his and dragged them on. He beat me dressing, but he waited until I stood by his side before we went out to face the dragons. I scanned the clearing, but they weren’t there. I’d been certain they’d wait for us. “What do you suppose happened to them?” I asked Bjorn.
He pointed upward. Sure enough, they were dipping and swooshing and flying in patterns as they rode both up- and downdrafts. “They don’t seem in a hurry to land,” he noted and ducked back inside his cottage. When he emerged a few minutes later, he handed me a roll with a chunk of cheese tucked inside.
I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I took the first bite and saliva slopped onto the ground. “Thank you,” I said once I’d swallowed. “This is good.”
“I’d love to take credit, but my clients bring me things. Like the bread. I did make the cheese from goat’s milk another customer left me.”
“They pay you in goods. That’s wonderful.”
“It is,” he agreed between bites. “They’re under no obligation to pay me at all. Access to my magic is an implied benefit.”
Before I could ask how that worked, he added, “Odin and his merry band of bastards make certain I have what I need. The cottage belonged to my parents…” He made a face and started over. “The wonderful couple who fostered me. When they died, it became mine. My needs have always been simple enough. A roof over my head. A place to store my magical accoutrements and books.”
“Did your parents live into old age?” I asked.
He nodded. “Why are you asking?”
“The reason they never told you they adopted you has to be one of three things.” I brushed crumbs from my fingers. “Either keeping your origins a secret was part of the bargain. Or you were a foundling, and they never knew where you came from. Or Hel wiped their memories.”
“More likely a combination of two and three. Mum and da were the epitome of decency. I learned so much from my years beneath their roof. Even if it cost them, they did the right thing. Took the moral high ground. They taught me there were far more important things than money or winning. Especially if us winning meant someone else lost.”
“I’d have liked to have met them,” I said, feeling wistful.
“I’m sorry you didn’t.” He shaded his eyes from the sun that had finally come out from behind thick clouds. I followed the direction he was looking and saw the dragons heading right for us.
“Break time’s over.” I grinned at Bjorn.
“Consider us fortunate they allowed us the time they did.” His expression turned serious, and he cupped the side of my face in one hand. “You’re absolutely correct that the only reason they didn’t interrupt us is because they considered making love more important than flying off to Quade’s borderworld.”
Worry struck a discordant note within me. “Do you have any idea how long Quade expects we’ll be gone?”
“Nay.”
“I have to stop and check on the witches before I leave to go anywhere. I’m not especially worried about the Celts hassling them anymore, but they’re still helpless.”
He brushed a calloused thumb over my face, tracing the line of my cheekbone. “They’re not as helpless as you believe, but I agree about making certain all is well.”
Zelli landed more lightly than usual about three meters away on the far side of the courtyard. She’d no sooner gotten her hind feet on the ground than she puffed steam our way. It was so thick, I felt rather than saw Quade land next to her. Steam from him joined the party until I could barely see Bjorn standing next to me.
“Enough,” Bjorn shouted. “We’re ready to leave.”
The clouds thinned a bit, and Zelli said, “We are congratulating you on your mating.”
I should have thanked her, but a teensy part of me wanted to lodge a protest. It wasn’t as if we’d sat through a formal marriage ceremony or anything. Or a witches’ handfasting.
I buried my thoughts fifty kilometers under and spaded magic over them. Whatever was wrong with me, I needed to identify it and deal with it. I’d known before we made love it would be the glue that cemented us together. I’d welcomed Bjorn into my body, fully understanding the ramifications. The dice were cast. I should be ecstatic. And I was, except for one tiny corner of uncertainty.
“Thank you,” Bjorn was saying. He’d moved to my side, and I laced my fingers with his.
“I need to make a quick stop at home,” I told the dragons.
“Why?” Zelli asked.
“Why, indeed?” Quade seconded. “Your Celtic kin willna bother the witches further.”
“Earth hosts other threats.” I looked from one dragon to the other. “The coven is my family, and right now they’re split between two locations. Since they’re unable to teleport, it places
them in a vulnerable position.”
“I doona see the harm in a quick stop,” Zelli said.
Anger—my go-to place—crackled to life. I let go of Bjorn’s hand. “Look here. We’ve covered this ground. I do not require your permission to ensure my home and my family are safe. You might be used to running things, but you’ll never run me.”
Fire streamed from Zelli’s parted jaws, replacing the steam. I had to jump to one side to avoid it. I was pretty sure I was immune to dragonfire, given my mysterious dragon father, but I wasn’t anxious to test my theory.
“We’ll see you in front of the caves beneath Ben Nevis,” Bjorn said firmly. Before I could protest I’d craft my own travel spell, his caught both of us up and Vanaheim ceded to blackness.
“Sorry,” I mumbled. “My temper has always had a short fuse.”
“All this will take getting used to,” he said. “We’re accustomed to operating independently. The dragons are used to issuing orders. I don’t think Zelli meant anything by what she said. She was just being who she is. And so were you.”
“Glad one of us is the voice of reason.”
I heard grunts and groans and outraged cries before the packed-down dirt in front of Ben Nevis came into view. Bjorn’s magic slammed into mine. “Ready yourself.” His words held a terse edge.
For some reason, orders from him didn’t rankle as much as orders from Zelli.
The dark of the teleport spell yielded to the same pock-marked earth I remembered from when the griffon monster had crawled out of some subterranean portal leading god only knows where. No griffon this time. No goblins, gnomes, or trolls, either. In their place was a huge, batlike thing with a three-meter wingspan. Black wings supported a grotesque fur-coated body. At least it didn’t reek of poison. The shrill squeals were coming from it. A quick scan showed at least three more.
I thanked every goddess who’d ever walked—except Mother—I’d insisted on stopping here first.
Power sheeted from Bjorn’s outstretched hands. I added mine to the mix. Maybe the dragons would show up. Maybe they wouldn’t. Didn’t matter. We had this. Or I thought we did until I understood the groans were coming from fallen witches who’d done their best to defend their home.