Hell yes.
“Maybe they’ll come back tomorrow,” I suggested.
His hand drifted over my ass, my eyes instantly glazed over as I felt his touch cause a spasm between my legs and he muttered, “I don’t think there’s any ‘maybe’ about that, wee one.”
I forced myself to focus on his face to see his focus was entirely on me.
Hmm. I liked that too. Seriously.
His fingers gripped my ass and his voice growled, “Kiss me, wife.”
I’d gone dazed again but that didn’t mean I didn’t whisper, “Okay,” and then, immediately, I did what I was told.
* * * * *
I stood between the door and the doorjamb, hiding the room from view but in no way hiding the fact I was wearing nothing but Frey’s huge sweater from Alyssa who standing out in the hall and looking at me with her eyes dancing.
“Uh…” I muttered, fighting the heat that was in my cheeks, “could you do me a favor and bring up some food?”
“Of course, my princess,” she said enthusiastically.
“Thanks,” I whispered, she winked, smiled brilliantly and hurried away.
Eek!
I closed the door and turned to the room.
It was hours (and hours) later. Frey was asleep in bed. After I’d carefully left his arms to pull the bell to order some much needed sustenance, he’d rolled to his side, commandeered a pillow and his arms were wrapped around it. His hair had fallen on his forehead and the covers were down to his waist.
He looked very hot. Hotter than ever. It was a wonder the bed didn’t spontaneously combust, he was that hot.
I kept watching him as I walked across the room and only pulled my eyes from all the glory that was my husband when I made it to my armchair. I scooped up Penelope who gave me a, “Mrrrr, Mummy, I was mrrrr sleeping.”
“Hush, baby,” I muttered.
Penelope hushed but only after I started scratching her ruff.
Cradling her close, I walked to the window and slowly and silently pulled the curtain open. The rush of the cold draft hit my bare legs and crawled upwards but, although I felt it, I didn’t really feel it.
I had other things on my mind.
I took in Fyngaard. Night had fallen. Torches were lit. People were out.
Life was going on in this world as it undoubtedly was in mine.
And I had finally become wife to my other world husband. There was no mistaking it now. I had five orgasms as proof (the first, two more with Frey inside me, one from his fingers (fabulous) and one from his mouth (so freaking good, I thought it might be supernatural and this was possibly not be wrong, considering his command of elves and dragons)).
And now that he was asleep, the lamps shining a glow on the room, the huge fire roaring in the grate banishing the cold but not quite holding back the chill, it came to me that I was screwed and not just in one way, in all ways.
In our love fest, birth control had not only not been mentioned, I didn’t even think about it.
And that was not smart.
In fact, I was wondering if any of this was smart.
It could not be denied it was good, the best by a long freaking shot. I couldn’t get enough of Frey, the more I had the more I wanted and, what was almost better, he definitely couldn’t get enough of me. He really liked my body and didn’t hide it and he also really liked my touch (however that came about) and he didn’t hide that either. Not even a little, either of them. And knowing both felt freaking great.
All the rumors were beyond correct. His skills were varied, they were vigorous and the man had stamina.
And it was worth it, yes, even worth the risk of pregnancy. Not only because it was fan-freaking-tastic but because it was with Frey.
And, by the by, right then, I wasn’t going to go there. Not then. Not until later.
Probably much later. Definitely stupid later.
But as I stared out the window unseeing at Fyngaard I thought that my parents had taught me to throw caution to the wind. Life was meant to be lived, every breath was a gift, every risk was worth taking.
But I had a feeling they weren’t thinking of something like this.
“Finnie,” I heard and, coming out of my reverie, my body gave a small start and I turned to see Frey was awake, he’d rolled toward me, his dark hair still on his forehead, his massive chest on display, his green-brown eyes were sexy-drowsy and he was up on a forearm in bed. “Come here,” he ordered.
My feet moved even before my mind made the decision to go and this was no surprise. A man looked like that, he was looking at you like Frey was right then looking at me and he told you to come there, you went there.
I dropped Penelope in the chair as I went and she instantly collapsed irately onto a haunch and started licking her foot.
I didn’t pay attention. My attention was elsewhere. When I got close, I watched Frey push up, twist and reach out to me. He caught my hips and guided me into the bed. When I climbed in on my knees, he pulled me to straddling him and dropped to his back. Then his big hands went under his sweater and up, gliding light and gentle over my hips then around to cup my ass.
My lids lowered and I licked my lips.
“My wife likes my hands on her arse,” Frey muttered, his fingertips stroking and I did, you bet I did, I liked it a lot.
“Mm,” was all I could mumble.
Frey grinned and his hands moved up. “Come here, love.”
I bent toward him and got close, resting my arms on his chest as he pulled the sweater up with his hands then they drifted lazily along the skin of my back.
“What takes you from our bed?” he asked quietly.
“I ordered us some food,” I answered quietly, staring into his somnolent green-brown eyes.
“This is good,” he muttered, his full lips curved slightly and I liked that so much I lifted my hand and held it against his face as my thumb moved out to touch his lower lip.
I barely touched it before he rolled me to my back then he shifted both of his arms so the backs of my knees were hooked in the crooks of his elbows, my legs spread wide, his hands in the bed. He loomed over me and I sucked in breath as my eyes took in all the power and beauty of him between my legs as I felt my exposed sex quiver.
His eyes held mine and kept hold as my breath started coming faster and my legs tensed against his arms in anticipation. Then his eyes dropped to look at me and I held my breath in reaction to the beauty I saw as hunger consumed his face, he shifted his hips and then he was inside me.
Oh God.
“Frey,” I breathed, his head lifted and I had the burn of his gaze as he moved slow, God, so slow and gentle, unbelievably gentle and deep, so, fucking deep.
I tensed my legs and clenched my sex tight around his cock and he growled low in his throat, his face growing dark, then he rumbled, “And I like my wife’s caress.”
I lifted both hands to trail my fingers on his chest. “Good,” I whispered then urged, “Faster, honey.”
He kept thrusting slow and sweet and whispered back, “No, wee one.”
“Please.”
In then out, taking his sweet time then, “No.”
He held my eyes and moved inside me as my fingers drifted wherever they could reach across his massive chest and tight abs and I did this awhile, his eyes locked with mine as he slowly filled me then glided away and back and back and it started building, unhurried, soft, then more and more until I couldn’t take it. It felt so good, he looked so good, I needed more and not having it was like torture. My fingers drifted down his abs, separating to curl around his sides to hold on as he kept driving slow, gentle and sweet.
God, he felt great. So freaking great.
“Please, Frey, faster,” I breathed, my legs beginning to clutch his arms, my sex clenching around his cock.
“No, Finnie.”
Pleasure rolled leisurely through me, burning a path so deep, my neck and back arched with it.