Chapter Seven
Iona
Dearg rumbled hungrily, feeling warm and strong, smelling of fur and forest, desire and magic, strong arms holding me off the floor as if he could -- and would -- do it forever.
We kissed, tongues licking, stroking. I caught his lower lip in my teeth for a gentle bite, and he growled, raw lust in his voice.
At last, he drew back, more to let both of us breathe than anything else.
I panted from the heat boiling through me.
His face was set with desire, and his cock hardened against my belly.
Letting my power unfurl, I took his mouth again, tasting his magic, his strength, courage, and wit.
Pulling back, I stared into his eyes. “I’m going to show you the words ‘not good enough’ will never apply to you.
” My magic began to whirl around us, cool as an early spring breeze at first, then harder and hotter until it was blazing like August and his eyes were a solid sheet of multicolored flame.
By the time he put me down, we were panting again.
My nipples had drawn into two tight bullets, and lust coursed through my blood like a flood from a burst dam.
Just the sensation of his chest hair teasing over my skin maddened me.
I blinked and realized I felt a bit chilly.
Looking down, I discovered neither of us was wearing a stitch.
Dearg followed my gaze and blinked. “Where did our clothes go? And which of us did it?”
“Don’t know, don’t care,” I gasped. “I’m just glad we’re naked.
” I slid a hand down, found the eager thrust of his cock.
With a muffled little growl, I dropped to my knees, wrapped my hand around the thick shaft, and angled my head so I could take the length of it as deep and hard and fast as I could. Right to the balls.
To my delight, Dearg’s knees gave for a second, and I growled in satisfaction as I pulled back slowly, drawing hard, my tongue playing along the harp string of his cock, teasing the sensitive ridge of velvet flesh as I drew out.
When I reached his cock’s meaty head, I swirled my tongue over it, using magic to seek out each bundle of nerves I could sense under his skin. It was one of those demigoddess talents I rarely used, but I wanted to give Dearg the whole show.
I’d always been careful not to let my power run loose. I’d seen too many ugly things happen when my mother indulged her godhood. But I craved Dearg, and I needed to show him just how much. Werewolf or not, prince or not, Heir to Heroes or not, I wanted Dearg Galatyn in all his lush, feral power.
I started to look up at him, but on the way my gaze fell on his waist…
…And I burst out laughing.
Dearg stiffened. “That was not exactly the reaction I was hoping for,” he told me, sounding a little hurt.
I gestured helplessly, still laughing. “Not laughing at you. The only thing you’re wearing is your sword belt and Dragon’s Breath. It looks kinky as hell.”
He realized I was right and relaxed enough to laugh. “It’s probably the sword’s way of saying ‘you’re not the boss of me.’”
The storm of sparks intensified, making me draw back with a yip.
“Cut that out!” I told the sword and started gingerly unbuckling it.
Fortunately, it must have felt the point had been made, because the weapon let me set it aside.
I was surprised it didn’t sting the hell out of me in the process. “At least it quit spitting sparks.”
“Probably because it’s feeling smug.”
I paused, about to engulf his cock again. “Do you ever get the feeling we’re surrounded by matchmakers?”
“It has crossed my mind. Especially when my mother said, and I quote, ‘I want grandbabies.’”
That made me blink. “You just met me,” I pointed out.
“Yes, but my parents fell in love so hard and fast, they think I should too. Plus, they were seriously impressed by the passionate way you stood up for me.” His lips quirked. “So was I.”
I shrugged, looking up at him. “I meant it. You’re a hero, and I’ve rarely met a Sidhe noble I could say the same about -- with the exception of your parents, of course.”
“Again, statements like that are the reason Mom wants me to bring you home.” He smoothed my hair back from my face. “She told me she’s always been afraid I’d end up with some empty-headed court lady -- decorative, but otherwise not good for a damn thing.”
“Given what I’ve seen of the court, I understand why she’d be worried.
” As I spoke, my eyes fell on the bead of arousal that had formed on the head of his magnificent cock, and I lost interest in talking.
With a low moan, I leaned in and took him in, angling my head so I could slide all of that gorgeous erection to his soft, furry balls.
He sucked in a breath, and for a moment his hand fisted in my hair before he quickly let it go.
Worried I’ll see him as an animal again? I need to ask Queen Diana to point out whichever twat did this to him. Male Sidhe weren’t the only ones who could challenge each other to duels. Beating a bitch would make me feel much better.
And the queen would probably cheer.
“Slow down,” Dearg gasped, as I drew my head back and slid him slowly in again, letting him feel the roof of my mouth, the stroke of my tongue.
I was tempted to ignore his plea, aching to drive him to a hard, fast orgasm like the one he’d given me last time.
But when it came to a contest between an immortal and demigoddess, the immortal should call the shots.
I had nothing to prove and he had too much.
I slowed down -- I wasn’t my mother. I began to bob my head up and down, concentrating on maximizing his pleasure as my power swirled around us, fed by his desire -- and my own.
“Let me…” His hands closed over my shoulders, about to pull me to my feet.
But I wasn’t ready to yield the game to him so fast. I slowed down even more, pulling off of his cock to suck his balls into my mouth one at a time, licking and stroking.
He tasted of magic and cherries, sweet and tart.
I wondered where that came from. My free hand rolled and teased his balls as I felt him grow closer to orgasm with every lap of my tongue.
As I suckled, I stroked my hand down his cock.
It felt slick, and I realized I must have conjured a layer of sweet lube without being aware of it.
That explains the cherries… I found the perfect rhythm as I stroked and suckled, sensing the currents of passion flowing through him, the swirling arousal, the delicate pulses of contracting muscles readying for his climax.
I felt him fight it, obviously determined to hold on.
Even though I wanted nothing more than to make him come in my mouth and drink down every ounce of cum he fed me, I knew…
Big hands clamped around my upper arms and pulled me off the floor into his arms. His mouth sealed over mine, his tongue swirling deep, tasting himself. Smelling himself on me with those acute lupine senses of his.
With a low, low, hungry growl that made me check his face for a muzzle, he fell backward, taking me with him. I conjured a mattress covered in silk the heartbeat before he could slam into the floor. Not that it would hurt him, but I didn’t want anything to break the mood.
Another deep wolf growl rumbled in his throat, though he was otherwise human.
He rolled me beneath him as he began working his way down my body, pausing to lave each nipple in turn and rake it gently with his teeth.
The pulse of pleasure was so intense I writhed.
He obviously knew his way around a woman from pure practice, not instinct.
And I let him, surrendering to his mouth and his hands and his hunger. Showing him with every gasp and moan how much I loved the way his passion made me feel.
Dearg’s hand cupped my pussy as it grew hot and slick and more than ready. Two fingers slid into me, stroking, hooking the hidden nerves of my G-spot as easily as I’d found his. Strumming me with skilled fingers even as he teased my clit with his circling thumb.
I arched, groaning, loving the way he felt, the hot pulses of pleasure more intense than anything I’d ever known with anyone.
And not just because of his impressive skill either.
Because it was him -- this prince who knew how it felt to be an outcast, to be rejected and threatened.
Just as I’d been as a child in my mother’s court.
We were so much alike.
Groaning, I began to roll my hips against his hand, hungry.
Not just for an orgasm, or for that long, thick, luscious cock.
I wanted to merge with him as we catapulted into climax, into the deep, hot intimacy I’d never really thought I’d find.
At the thought, arousal poured through me in a rush of lust. “Cachamwri’s Egg!
” I gasped, ducking my head to bite down on his shoulder out of some feral instinct I didn’t stop to analyze.
His answering growl was definitely not a cry of pain.
With a flex of rolling muscle, Dearg braced over me with one hand while he reached down to guide his gorgeous cock into my pussy. I drove my hips up at him as he entered, and we slid together into exquisite sensation.
My power swirled, built, as we began to fuck, grinding hard, chasing the shared orgasm that was soooo close.
Dearg fought to hold it off, trying to give me time, evidently unaware of how close to the edge I was.
I clamped both hands over his ass as I thrust upward, arching both of us off the mattress.
My power detonated around us in a blast of magic and passion and raw, burning lust.
Driven by my power, our minds fused, locking together in a storm of passion and searing delight. We kept right on grinding, right on pushing, my power throwing us both into orgasm after orgasm.