Wildest Dreams
Page 59
“Enjoy your Gales, Sjofn,” he said softly but his tone wasn’t gentle, it was distant and that hurt too. “I’ll see you upon my return.”
He started to move away but I looked at him then and I knew, hells bells, I knew when I opened my eyes there were tears there.
Tears!
From me!
But they were there and I didn’t have it in me to make them go away.
And this was because I really, really did not want him to go away.
My chest still moved, rising and falling rapidly as my mind went blank to everything but the thought of him going. But he not only stopped moving away, he had grown completely still as his eyes stayed riveted to mine and there was no way to stop the one tear that dropped and slid down my cheek. I watched him watch it as it went all the way down, falling from my jaw and landing on my chest.
Then his gaze came back to mine when I decided what I needed to say.
And when I did, I whispered, “I change my mind, Frey. I really don’t like it when you call me Sjofn. Please don’t call me that anymore.”
I barely got out the last word when he was back in my space and one of his arms sliced around the small of my back, the other hand plunged into my hair, fisting and pulling back as well as tilting my head to the side and then his mouth slammed down hard on mine.
Instantly his opened, mine reciprocated and there it was.
I was back. He was back. And having him, I shot straight up the line of happiness toward bliss.
But this was not a gentle kiss, this was not sweet, this was charged, greedy and that was coming from the both of us. I took, he took and the way we took I knew there wasn’t ever going to be enough.
My arms had wound around his neck and I pressed deep into him. When I did, Frey didn’t break the connection of our mouths as he leaned deep into me, arching me back as his arm slid over my ass and I knew what he wanted.
I helped by hopping up and circling his h*ps with my legs. Even before I got them around him, he was turning, walking, still drinking from my mouth as he prowled to my bedroom.
Then I was on my back in the softness of my bed, his heavy weight on me and I arched up, tensing my limbs around him to push deep like I wanted him to absorb me.
It was then he tore his mouth from mine and his blazing eyes locked with my own.
“Do not let your body ask for that which you aren’t ready, my wee one,” he growled his warning.
And he did it while calling me his wee one.
God, I missed that.
“I know what I want, honey,” I whispered, watched his eyes flare then his arms went from around me, I felt his fingers at the sides of my panties and then I heard the material tear.
Yes.
Oh yes. Yes, yes, yes.
My hands went to his sweater at the back, clenching in, pulling up as his fingers went to the gusset of my undies, yanking them free.
“Hurry,” I whispered.
“Patience,” he muttered then he lifted his arms for me, I pulled his sweater free, baring his fantastic chest then his hand went immediately to his breeches.
“Hurry, baby,” I pleaded, pressing into him with my h*ps and rounding him again to hold him tight in my arms, loving the feel of his sleek, hard-muscled skin against my hands.
“Gods,” he muttered, eyes on mine and I knew my gaze was filled with all the hunger I was feeling for him then his head dropped, his mouth captured mine and his tongue invaded as his c**k thrust inside.
My back arched and my low moan drove down his throat.
Oh yes. Yes. Yes, yes, yes!
God, he felt so f**king good.
Then he thrust into me, hard, fast, deep and not close to gentle and I lifted my h*ps to get him deeper, encourage him to go faster, help him to ride me hard.
I broke my mouth from his as it built, fast, God, so f**king fast, and hot, God, the heat was going to reduce me to ashes and because of that I couldn’t take his tongue anymore.
I shoved my face in his neck, held on and gloried in the fierce jolts his deep thrusts scored into my body as I begged against his neck, “Harder.”
I barely got out the word before my head flew back, pushing into the bed, my neck arching, my back arching, my limbs tightening and I cried out as it seared through me, burning brilliantly.
“Gods,” I heard him grunt as he kept driving into me, “Gods, you’re beautiful, my wee Finnie.”
I opened my eyes to see his on me, burning me anew and I held them as he kept driving into me, again and again until he thrust hard, deep, my body jerked powerfully with it but he stayed planted and his head went back, the veins in his neck stood out and his groan of release filled the room.
Yes. Oh hell yes.
When he was done he collapsed on me and my lungs compressed at his immense weight but I held it not but a second before he rolled so I was on top and he was still inside me.
My cheek was to his chest and that was all I could see but I could feel him inside me, the ache from his thrusts so freaking sweet, one of his hands was in my hair and his other arm was wrapped around me.
And all that was him under me, in me, all around me, I touched the top of the happiness scale and hit bliss.
Then I blinked.
Then I thought, okay, shit, now what did I do?
Before my mind could sort it out, my mouth decided.
“Um… suffice it to say, I don’t want you calling me Sjofn anymore.”
His body stilled under mine for a long moment then it started rocking like he was laughing. His fingers fisted gently in my hair and tugged even more gently but I knew what he wanted. I sucked in breath and with it, courage, lifted my head to look at him and saw his beautiful eyes warm on me.
Yes.
Oh hell yes.
“Does this mean my Finnie is back?” he asked quietly.
“Yes,” I answered quietly then my mouth kept talking, “and she missed you.”
At my words, his eyes closed instantly and he rolled me, disconnecting us (sadly). He laid me on my back but his big, warm body stayed pressed close to mine and I watched his eyes open.
God, I’d missed his beautiful brown-green eyes with their dark, thick fringe of lashes, especially when they were looking at me like they were looking at me then. Not that I’d ever seen that particular look, exactly. It was warmer, sweeter, and definitely better since it said he knew the feel of the most intimate part of me and, obviously, he really freaking liked it.
“Um… just for your information,” my mouth, clearly detached from my brain, kept going, “I’m not all that into this Gales business. So, you know, if you feel like company on this gig you’ve got going, um… I’m available.”
He started to move away but I looked at him then and I knew, hells bells, I knew when I opened my eyes there were tears there.
Tears!
From me!
But they were there and I didn’t have it in me to make them go away.
And this was because I really, really did not want him to go away.
My chest still moved, rising and falling rapidly as my mind went blank to everything but the thought of him going. But he not only stopped moving away, he had grown completely still as his eyes stayed riveted to mine and there was no way to stop the one tear that dropped and slid down my cheek. I watched him watch it as it went all the way down, falling from my jaw and landing on my chest.
Then his gaze came back to mine when I decided what I needed to say.
And when I did, I whispered, “I change my mind, Frey. I really don’t like it when you call me Sjofn. Please don’t call me that anymore.”
I barely got out the last word when he was back in my space and one of his arms sliced around the small of my back, the other hand plunged into my hair, fisting and pulling back as well as tilting my head to the side and then his mouth slammed down hard on mine.
Instantly his opened, mine reciprocated and there it was.
I was back. He was back. And having him, I shot straight up the line of happiness toward bliss.
But this was not a gentle kiss, this was not sweet, this was charged, greedy and that was coming from the both of us. I took, he took and the way we took I knew there wasn’t ever going to be enough.
My arms had wound around his neck and I pressed deep into him. When I did, Frey didn’t break the connection of our mouths as he leaned deep into me, arching me back as his arm slid over my ass and I knew what he wanted.
I helped by hopping up and circling his h*ps with my legs. Even before I got them around him, he was turning, walking, still drinking from my mouth as he prowled to my bedroom.
Then I was on my back in the softness of my bed, his heavy weight on me and I arched up, tensing my limbs around him to push deep like I wanted him to absorb me.
It was then he tore his mouth from mine and his blazing eyes locked with my own.
“Do not let your body ask for that which you aren’t ready, my wee one,” he growled his warning.
And he did it while calling me his wee one.
God, I missed that.
“I know what I want, honey,” I whispered, watched his eyes flare then his arms went from around me, I felt his fingers at the sides of my panties and then I heard the material tear.
Yes.
Oh yes. Yes, yes, yes.
My hands went to his sweater at the back, clenching in, pulling up as his fingers went to the gusset of my undies, yanking them free.
“Hurry,” I whispered.
“Patience,” he muttered then he lifted his arms for me, I pulled his sweater free, baring his fantastic chest then his hand went immediately to his breeches.
“Hurry, baby,” I pleaded, pressing into him with my h*ps and rounding him again to hold him tight in my arms, loving the feel of his sleek, hard-muscled skin against my hands.
“Gods,” he muttered, eyes on mine and I knew my gaze was filled with all the hunger I was feeling for him then his head dropped, his mouth captured mine and his tongue invaded as his c**k thrust inside.
My back arched and my low moan drove down his throat.
Oh yes. Yes. Yes, yes, yes!
God, he felt so f**king good.
Then he thrust into me, hard, fast, deep and not close to gentle and I lifted my h*ps to get him deeper, encourage him to go faster, help him to ride me hard.
I broke my mouth from his as it built, fast, God, so f**king fast, and hot, God, the heat was going to reduce me to ashes and because of that I couldn’t take his tongue anymore.
I shoved my face in his neck, held on and gloried in the fierce jolts his deep thrusts scored into my body as I begged against his neck, “Harder.”
I barely got out the word before my head flew back, pushing into the bed, my neck arching, my back arching, my limbs tightening and I cried out as it seared through me, burning brilliantly.
“Gods,” I heard him grunt as he kept driving into me, “Gods, you’re beautiful, my wee Finnie.”
I opened my eyes to see his on me, burning me anew and I held them as he kept driving into me, again and again until he thrust hard, deep, my body jerked powerfully with it but he stayed planted and his head went back, the veins in his neck stood out and his groan of release filled the room.
Yes. Oh hell yes.
When he was done he collapsed on me and my lungs compressed at his immense weight but I held it not but a second before he rolled so I was on top and he was still inside me.
My cheek was to his chest and that was all I could see but I could feel him inside me, the ache from his thrusts so freaking sweet, one of his hands was in my hair and his other arm was wrapped around me.
And all that was him under me, in me, all around me, I touched the top of the happiness scale and hit bliss.
Then I blinked.
Then I thought, okay, shit, now what did I do?
Before my mind could sort it out, my mouth decided.
“Um… suffice it to say, I don’t want you calling me Sjofn anymore.”
His body stilled under mine for a long moment then it started rocking like he was laughing. His fingers fisted gently in my hair and tugged even more gently but I knew what he wanted. I sucked in breath and with it, courage, lifted my head to look at him and saw his beautiful eyes warm on me.
Yes.
Oh hell yes.
“Does this mean my Finnie is back?” he asked quietly.
“Yes,” I answered quietly then my mouth kept talking, “and she missed you.”
At my words, his eyes closed instantly and he rolled me, disconnecting us (sadly). He laid me on my back but his big, warm body stayed pressed close to mine and I watched his eyes open.
God, I’d missed his beautiful brown-green eyes with their dark, thick fringe of lashes, especially when they were looking at me like they were looking at me then. Not that I’d ever seen that particular look, exactly. It was warmer, sweeter, and definitely better since it said he knew the feel of the most intimate part of me and, obviously, he really freaking liked it.
“Um… just for your information,” my mouth, clearly detached from my brain, kept going, “I’m not all that into this Gales business. So, you know, if you feel like company on this gig you’ve got going, um… I’m available.”
