Fantasyland 01 Wildest Dreams (46 page)

“Frey Drakkar, I trust you with every inch
of me.”

I barely got out the “e” in “me” when his
mouth was on mine, he ground his hips into me at the same time his
arm drove me down into his hips and I groaned deep into his
throat.

Oh God, it was too much, too big. I tore my
mouth away, shoved my face in his neck at the same time my hands,
acting on their own, yanked up his sweater so they could get to the
sleek, muscled, unbelievably brilliant to the touch skin of his
back.

“Too much, Frey,” I whimpered against his
neck as I felt his lips and tongue at mine and his hips kept
grinding into me. “God, baby,” my head arched back, “I’m going to
come with just this.”

His arm moved from my neck so his hand could
cup my head and he positioned it to facing him as he kept pushing
his hips deep into mine.

“Oh yes, my love, prepare,” he warned on a
low growl. “You’re going to climax over a lot of ‘just this’.”

Then his mouth took mine, his tongue
invaded, hungry, devouring, his hips pressed in hard and I came,
fast, deep and
hot
.

It was excruciatingly beautiful.

I was still climaxing as he yanked off my
sweater, my boots, my socks and breeches, taking my underwear with
them, my eyes were somnolently focusing and I watched him pull of
his sweater.

At the mere sight of his chest, I did a full
body tremble.

Then he disappeared as he dropped to his
knees between my legs, I sucked in a breath of anticipation, he
tossed my legs over his shoulders then his mouth was on me.

Oh my God. He was good at this
normally,
really
good.

Hungry and fevered, both him and me, it was
off the charts.

No, there was no chart. It was
indescribable.

My heels dug into his back, my hips lifted
to rub against his mouth as his big hands cupped my ass to pull me
to him and he took and took and took and I came again and again and
again, crying out at first then whimpering, my fingers in his hair,
holding him tight to me.

“Frey,” I gasped, suddenly needing him, “my
turn, baby.”

He didn’t need to be asked twice, he sucked
deep one, last, gorgeous time then his mouth went away and I sat
up, jumped off the table and was on my knees in front of him before
he’d got the first button opened his breeches.

I took over unbuttoning his fly then
I
took
over
, taking him in my
mouth.

This was something I liked to do but now
it was something I
adored
and the
noises Frey was making, noises coming deep from his chest, his big
hands cupping either side of my head lightly, his hips thrusting
gently into my mouth, it was
fantastic
.

Oh God, I was close again.

Before I could let go, he pulled out and his
hands were in my armpits, yanking me straight up. My arms went
around his shoulders, my legs around his hips; he strode swiftly to
the bed. By the time we got there, I had one arm down, my hand at
his cock wrapped around, guiding him to me so when he dropped me to
my back on the bed with him on top of me, I had him right
there.

Then he was inside me.

My body arched and I came instantly. It took
Frey about half a minute longer.

And thus it began, it was about touch,
taste, scent, sight, sound… and trust.

Every moan, groan, grunt and whimper was a
caress, every inch of his skin that caught my eye was a lazy,
effective stroke, the smell of his hair was a tight embrace and
actual touches and the flavor of him took me almost instantly to
orgasm.

I thought I had Frey memorized but that
afternoon every nuance of him was burned so deep in my brain I’d
never forget it, not a second, not a touch, not a taste, not a
vision, not an aroma, not the barest whisper.

It was the most intense, profound,
agonizingly beautiful thing I ever experienced; every second sheer
perfection.

And after hours, when we came down, when the
strokes became more languorous, the whimpers more subdued, the
groans turned to growls and our eyes grew less fevered, I knew I
was in love.

Not with a man who would share this with me
and give me multiple orgasms multiple times but with the man I
would chose to share this with, trusting him enough to open myself
so completely, I was fully exposed and instead of taking
everything, he handed me the world.

He handed me the world.

And I was going to take it.

I wasn’t going anywhere. I wasn’t going home
except to tie up my life, explain and say good-bye to people I
loved.

I was going to embark on the ultimate
adventure.

Somehow, someway, I had to figure out how to
talk my husband (and the king and queen) into accepting me as a
replacement for good and communicate with Sjofn that her hopes for
Lunwyn had come true.

I was going to stay with the man I loved in
this fabulous world that had elves and dragons (and people who
wanted to kill me, but I decided not to think of that).

And I was going to do it forever.

* * * * *

“Do you suppose we should eat, wee one?”
Frey murmured

Frey was on his back, his arm around me, his
fingers drawing lazy patterns on my hip. I was pressed to his side,
cheek on his shoulder, my leg over his, my fingertips floating
absently across the skin of his wide chest. But at his question, I
dropped my hand to that chest, pressed in and curled my body deeper
into him.

Truth be told, I was absolutely famished.
I’d learned having hours of very energetic sex and countless
orgasms did that to you.

But right then it was just Frey and me
tangled in each other and velvet blankets on a divan in a cabin on
a fabulous ship with nothing but the dark cut minimally by
moonlight coming in his windows and the fact that I’d just come to
the realization I was in love for the first time in my life. And I
liked all of it just like that and I didn’t want to lose any of
it.

To communicate all this, I mumbled,
“Mm.”

His body shook with his inaudible chuckle
and he rolled into me so we were both on our sides, face to
face.

I could barely make him out in the moonlight
but I didn’t need to. I’d remember his face and every inch of his
skin until my dying breath.

His hands drifted up and down my back and
his voice was soft when he asked, “Do you want to doze while I find
food?”

My arm around him got tighter and I blurted,
“I don’t want you to go anywhere.”

His hands stopped drifting and he held tight
before he whispered, “All right, my Finnie, I’ll not go
anywhere.”

I nodded and dipped my chin, pressing my
face in his chest and his hands started drifting again, one gliding
up to play with my hair.

I didn’t stroke, I just held on.

And both of us did this for awhile.

Finally, I broke the silence to ask quietly,
“How do people go back to normal sex after that?”

Frey answered just as quietly, “If they do
it with their partner, they don’t.”

I blinked at his chest then my head tipped
back, I heard his move on the pillow and I knew he was looking down
at me.

“They don’t?” I queried.

“Never.”

Ho boy.

“
Frey,” I whispered, “that was… it
was…well,
freaking awesome
but we can’t do it like that
every time.
It would kill us.”

His chuckle was audible this time and he
gave me a slight squeeze before he explained, “No, my love, the
adela tea isn’t meant to be used every time, not even sometimes. It
is meant to be used carefully, it is meant to be used as a means to
deepen something that is already deep, to heighten awareness of
things that are already there. There are those who use it simply
for pleasure but when a husband and wife who care about each other
use it, the goddess Adele’s intent for her gift is much more
meaningful.”

Both his arms got tight around me and he
gently pulled me up so my head was on a pillow by his.

Then he said softly, “I know things about
you now, things you like, sounds you make, expressions on your face
that I may not have understood or would have missed before. I would
assume you now hold the same knowledge about me.”

He would assume correct in a
big
way.

“Yes,” I whispered.

His head bent so his forehead was touching
mine and he was whispering too when he replied, “It will never be
the same between us because we hold that knowledge, we’re more in
tune, we better understand not only what brings pleasure to each
other but also to ourselves. We won’t miss those things as we might
have done before, wee one, we’ll know how to take advantage of
them. It will not be the same as we just had but it won’t need to
be and it will make something that was already splendid
much
better.”

Wow. That was actually kind of
beautiful.

“Boy,” I breathed, “that Adele knows what
she’s doing.”

Frey gathered me closer and tipped his mouth
so his lips touched mine.

I felt his were smiling.

Then he said quietly, “She
is
a goddess, Finnie.”

“Right,” I whispered, he chuckled and moved
his head slightly back.

Then I asked the question no girl should
ask, no time, no place, no reason, no matter what.

But I asked it.

“Have you done that with other women?”

His big relaxed body grew stiff and I closed
my eyes tight then opened them and tried to repair the damage.

“I’m sorry, Frey, so, so sorry. It’s none of
my –”

He cut me off to say, “Two.”

I blinked at him in the dark then asked,
“What?”

“Two,” he repeated then continued. “A
courtesan in Fleuridia and that time it was not about a deeper
meaning but an intense experience. It had no meaning. I don’t even
recall her name.”

Hmm.

“And a woman in Sudvic,” he went on. “A
widow who I visited frequently when I was in the city and this
acquaintance lasted some time. She introduced it in an attempt to
get me to feel more about what we shared than was there. But if it
isn’t there, you can’t make it be there. Her attempt backfired for
she exposed how she felt about me, feelings I knew I couldn’t
return. I came to understand it was unfair to give her hope by
continuing our liaison and shortly after, I stopped visiting her.”
His arms gave me another squeeze and he explained, “Adele rules
passion but she holds no sway over love.”

I was pleased he was honest and trusted me
without hesitation with stories of his past. That felt nice and
said a lot of good things about him.

But at his mention of love, I held my breath
hoping he wouldn’t notice I was holding my breath and also hoping
that maybe he was about to share something so I could share
something, both of which were crucially important.

I quietly let my breath out when he
didn’t.

I hid my disappointment with another
question. “So the Lunwynians don’t actually have a goddess of love,
just passion and motherhood?”

“For the ancients, when the dragons flew
freely, they did,” Frey answered and he gave me another squeeze and
whispered, “Her name was Sjofn.”

I held my breath again and after awhile let
it out when he said no more.

Then I shared, “My parents named me after a
Norse goddess of love. She was an ancient goddess too. They did
this because I was born with my hair. They thought it looked like
snow. There’s a lot of snow in Scandinavia so that’s why they
decided on that. They were going to name me Tabitha.”

His body shook with a brief chuckle before
he stated, “You are not a Tabitha.”

No, this was true.

“It’s spelled differently,” I informed him.
“No one would get it the way it was spelled and they didn’t want
people to mess it up so they spelled it S… e… o…a… f… i… n.”

He pressed closer to me, indicating, like he
always did in some sweet, gentle way when I shared something he
liked learning, that he liked learning the spelling of my name
before he muttered, “This was probably wise.”

“They were very wise,” I concurred then I
said as if to myself, “I wonder if it’s the same goddess in both
worlds.”

“This, my wee one, we will probably never
know.”

Probably not.

“Though,” Frey went on, “I find, if you pay
attention, there are curious links to your world and mine. For
instance, the Aurora of this world could clearly be your mother in
both.”

This was also true, I’d noticed that
too.

I sighed. Then I muttered, “I wonder what
the you of my world is like.”

His arms got tight and he said gently but
firmly, “This, my Finnie, you will
definitely
never know.”

I had to admit, his firm response was a tad
surprising but the words he said were undoubtedly true.

I brought the conversation around full
circle and said softly, “You’re hungry.”

His arms relaxed and he murmured,
“Indeed.”

“One of us should rustle up some food and
since I haven’t decided how to get Skylar not to be terrified of
me, that person should be you.”

“Indeed,” he repeated, again on a murmur but
this one held humor.

“We need to eat and then we need to talk
about Skylar,” I said softly.

Frey sighed before he murmured, “I had
wondered when you’d get to that.”

My head tilted into the pillow. “Get to
what?”

“You have been very patient, wife, but I
knew eventually you would make your play to win Skylar. I see your
face when you note someone is troubled. Atticus is an example, you
felt his disappointment keenly, allowing it to settle in your
heart, determined to do something about it. It is almost as if you
experience other’s discomfort as your own and cannot abide it.
Naturally, you bring light into every situation with a smile, an
understanding look or a laugh, helping others to be instantly
comfortable when they’re in your presence and if you don’t find
this reaction, you set about doing something about it.”