34 Eira
Eira
Eira had reached her limit for sitting outside in the cold, and as if he could read her mind Hugo had ushered her inside and
back into the hallway where their rooms were. His tall frame, bulky and strong, held her hand as they walked down the dimly
lit hallway to their rooms.
Hugo stopped outside of her door, both of them silent, knowing Evangeline was on the other side waiting for Eira to come back.
But Eira didn’t want to go back in there. Not yet.
“Excuse me,” a woman who had been following them down the hallway said as she tried to get past them as they lingered in the
hallway.
“No worries,” Hugo said as he stepped closer to Eira, mere inches between their bodies as he let the woman pass.
Eira’s heart raced as she looked up at him, at his golden skin and dark brown beard, his long hair flicked over his shoulder.
She thought of the way he’d held her hand as they’d slunk through the streets of Cilirien, how he’d cradled her face when
he’d thought she’d been hurt.
She needed him more than she wanted to admit.
“Hugo,” Eira whispered.
He looked down at her, his eyes on her lips.
“Yes?” he whispered back.
“When we were at the capital, did we ever . . . ?”
“Ever what?” Hugo asked, his hazel eyes sparkling as one corner of his mouth lifted, the pink scar on his chin moving with
it.
Eira bit her lip, and she watched Hugo lick his lips in response. It was one of the hottest things she’d ever seen. “You know
exactly what I mean.”
“Did we ever kiss?” Hugo said in a low voice, stepping toward her and closing the already small gap between them. Eira involuntarily
took a step back and was suddenly up against the wall beside her door, Hugo’s body gently pressing into hers.
“Yes,” she breathed, barely any noise leaving her mouth.
“Or do you want to know if we ever did . . . more than that?”
“That too,” Eira answered, a shiver running down her spine at the mere thought of it.
Hugo placed his calloused palm on her cheek and tilted her chin higher. “No,” he said. “We never did—but it’s all I thought
about every single day.”
Eira sucked in a ragged breath; she was one moment away from her legs turning to jelly. She could think of nothing but the
heat between her legs, the increasing hardness of Hugo pressed against her, and the desperate need to touch him.
“Why didn’t you do something about it?” she managed to get out.
“You were a viscountess,” Hugo said as if her title explained it all, voice ragged as his hand moved to her waist. “And I
was a guard that came from less than nothing . . . it wasn’t my place, you were my job.”
Hugo brushed his thumb over Eira’s lips, a ferocious hunger in his gaze.
“And what about now? Am I a job . . . or are we equals?” Eira breathed, her heart racing.
He growled quietly, so low Eira wouldn’t have been able to hear it if she hadn’t been close enough to him to feel the outline of everything on his body.
“You tell me,” Hugo said, hand gripping her soft thigh.
Eira couldn’t think, didn’t want to answer. She just wanted.
“Equals,” she whispered.
“So, as equals, is that what you want?” he said, gripping her skirts and gathering the fabric in one hand, baring her skin
to the chill air of the hallway. “For me to do something about this?”
Is that what she wanted? Her mind raced; it was all she could think about. For weeks now she’d been watching Hugo’s every
move, wondering if he thought of her the same way she thought of him. “Yes,” she said, closing the gap and pressing her lips
to his before she had a chance to think twice.
It took only a breath for Hugo to surge forward. His tongue parted her lips to deepen the kiss as he picked her up, pressing
her against the wall as she straddled his hips.
“This is a bit public, though,” she panted, breaking off the kiss and willing him to understand that she wanted to be in his
room. Now.
His eyes sparkled and he looked a little dazed as he turned around, still carrying her, and kicked open his door across the
hall. Smart man.
How Hugo was carrying her ample curves with basically one arm simultaneously impressed Eira and made her wonder just how strong
he was. He laid her on the bed gently, the handwoven blanket underneath her soft and warm as Hugo loomed over her, his chest
heaving.
“Are you sure about this?” Hugo asked. “I don’t want to do anything you feel pressured into.”
Eira laughed at the notion that she’d have even gone to see him tonight if she hadn’t wanted him. She leaned up to kiss him
gently as she unlaced the top of his shirt. “I’ve been thinking about this for a little while.”
“Not as long as I have,” he responded.
“Don’t be so sure about that—” Eira chuckled, and Hugo interrupted her with a hard kiss before untying her bodice frantically,
his hands sliding her blouse over her head the moment the bodice was loose enough.
Eira peeled off Hugo’s shirt, his chest exposed and, this time, she could appreciate it instead of focusing on saving his
life. He was visibly strong, and she trailed her fingers down his hard muscles to play with the waistband of his pants. Lower
still, and she could see the large bulge straining against the fabric, waiting to be freed. What shocked her, though, were
the scars. He had dozens across his body, some silvered and old but some pink and new, the freshest his shoulder where Saoirse
had tried to kill him.
“You’re beautiful,” he growled as he stroked her body, lifting her skirts and reaching for the desperate heat between her
legs, his large hands spreading her thick, soft thighs as he looked down at her hungrily. His fingers caressed her, slow circles
becoming frantic. Eira’s hips bucked toward his hand and he growled and unbuttoned her skirt, pulling it off and gripping
her hips.
“You’re so unbelievably soft,” he said as he grabbed the soft pouch of her stomach and moved down her body languidly.
“And your shape . . . is so unbelievably sexy. I need to taste you,” he said breathily before his mouth touched her, and her
senses exploded. Eira wasn’t entirely sure how a commander of the Iron Empire managed to get enough experience to know precisely
where to put his mouth, but Hugo was clearly a master at the craft. She laced her fingers through his hair as he worked, bringing
her closer and closer to release, teasing her to the edge that she was running toward.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered, feeling the edge of the cliff ahead of her. Hugo kept going, persistent and soft, and it kicked
her over the edge, her body reeling from the climax.
Within a moment, Hugo’s lips were on hers, wet and soft and hard all at once as she panted through her orgasm.
“You taste so fucking good,” he whispered. “I’ll stop now if you want, but I—” He was hard and pressed against her, teasing her as he waited for her to approve, to open up to him.
“Please,” she said, wanting him inside of her.
He slid in, a groan escaping his lips as he filled her. Any humanity she’d seen in Hugo left him in that moment, nothing left
of him but animalistic lust and raw attraction. “You’re all I’ve ever fucking wanted,” he growled as he moved inside her,
one hand holding hers and the other caressing her exposed, soft belly.
“Your curves are perfect,” he rumbled, his hand grasping Eira’s thigh for leverage as he thrust into her before pulling himself
out, the difficulty of holding his pleasure etched all over his face as he devoured her body with his eyes. “Handfuls and
handfuls for me to hold.” His fingers gently caressed her still-sensitive folds, fingers circling around her.
“I want you to come with me inside of you,” he leaned down and whispered in Eira’s ear. “And then we’ll see what else you
have energy for.”
Eira pulled his face to hers, their tongues dancing for a moment before he pulled away to look at her, one hand working at
her, bringing her to the edge again. “You’re so good at that,” she breathed, a hand resting on his hard chest in front of
her as her hips moved to match his rhythm.
“Just wait,” he whispered, entering her again in one swift motion.
Eira could feel, despite this never having happened to her before, her climax approaching for a second time.
It was as if Hugo had the key that opened the door to Eira’s pleasure.
She could feel him adjusting subtly each time she moaned, correcting himself to make sure he was getting her exactly where he wanted her.
“Come for me,” he whispered as Eira’s hands shot into his lusciously soft hair, the wave about to take her for the second time.
Hugo didn’t stop as it crashed into her, even harder than the first, his thrusts keeping her afloat for longer than she had thought possible.
“Good.” he smiled, hands wrapped around her waist. “Now I’m going to take you the way I’ve wanted to for years. ”
“Yes, please.” Eira smiled through the final ripples of her orgasm.
Hugo smirked, an animal behind his eyes as his thrusting picked up pace, his motions more and more passionate, heavier and
faster and harder as he continued until he pulled out and came, hard, on her soft stomach.
Once their breathing was back under control and they were both in the fuzzy warmth of the afterglow, Eira let him gently clean
her and climb under the blanket she’d covered herself with. “Will you stay here with me tonight?” he asked as Eira stroked
the hair on his chest, fingers tracing over the scars. They would be something to discuss, but not tonight.
“Yes,” she whispered, burying her head into his fully healed shoulder.
He kissed her forehead and sighed, his hand on her back.
Within moments Eira could hear the soft change in Hugo’s breathing as he drifted off to sleep. She smiled to herself. Sometimes
all it took was the gentle touch of a woman to fix a man’s sleep.