“Problem?”
“It’s your turn,” he explained, shaking his head when laughter lit her eyes. “I know you think I’m inflexible about fairness, but I want to give you pleasure too.”
Her hand stroked him. “Sometimes rigidity is a good thing,” she murmured, kissing him lingeringly. “And touching you is a great pleasure for me.”
“Still,” he replied stubbornly, moving her hand off of him. “Indulge me.”
“Why don’t we indulge each other?” she suggested with a gamine smile. Kneeling up, she straddled him. “I’d like to have you inside me, Astar. Unless you’d rather wait.”
“No,” he replied, hoarse at the tantalizing sight of her sleekly wet and naked breasts at nearly eye level. “I’m done with waiting.”
“You can touch them,” she said, taking his hands and guiding them to caress her breasts. “Kiss and lick. Careful with the biting, as I have tender nipples.”
In awe, he held her gorgeous breasts, marveling at their supple texture, trying to be gentle with the fragile-seeming globes even as Zephyr closed her eyes in pleasure, rocking her hips so the folds of her sex glided along the length of his cock. Even through the hot water, her slick heat pounded through him. Drawing one deep-red nipple into his mouth, he groaned with her at the delicious texture, the flavor of her heady and sending him out of his mind.
She rocked against him more urgently, and he had to drop one hand to her waist to stop her. “I won’t last to get inside you if you keep doing that.”
“Then you better get inside me,” she replied, fierce demand in her eyes.
“Show me,” he demanded in return.
With a sharp and hungry smile, she reached down, touching him just enough to lift him into position, nestling the sensitive head against her sweet sex. Holding his gaze, she slowly slid down, sheathing him in her slick and welcoming heat.
The shock of intense pleasure rolled through him, unlike anything he’d ever experienced, and he shouted her name, hands vising on her hips as he panted for control. She didn’t move, though she gripped him from inside, a steel fist within a velvet glove. When he managed to open his eyes, she was watching him, sapphire eyes dark and predatory.
“Yesss,” she hissed. “Oh, my bear, you are all I hoped for.” Holding his gaze still, she undulated, slowly riding him, the pleasure climbing rapidly to an excruciating peak.
“I can’t last long,” he panted. “I’m sorry.”
“Still a lot of edge,” she replied, unbothered, her breasts rising and falling with her own rapid breathing. “And I’m right with you.”
He couldn’t look away, rapt at the sight of the ecstasy suffusing her face. She rose up and plunged down, throwing her head back as she released a cry of erotic rapture, her whole body trembling under his grip, arcing with the force of her climax. She wrenched his own climax from him, her internal muscles squeezing him as firmly as her hands had done, extracting every drop from them both, until she collapsed boneless over him.
Suffused with pleasure, he let himself fall into the depths of replete relaxation. Holding Zephyr close against his heart, he fell asleep, knowing perfect peace for the first time in a very long time, maybe ever.
~ 19 ~
Zeph awoke slowly, stretching as she did, and releasing a happily sated sigh. Her body ached in the best possible way, throbbing here and there from the bruises and bites of her—best surprise ever—fierce lover. She even ached between her thighs from his considerable girth, and before this, she’d have said that wasn’t possible. Sighing again at the visceral memory of him deep inside her, she snuggled into the cozy bed. Her gríobhth senses reported it was well past dawn. But, reluctant to leave her warm nest of covers and face the bright light of the cold winter day, she kept her eyes closed, replaying her favorite bits of the night before.
Since she’d loved every moment, there were a lot of bits to replay.
“I know you’re awake,” Astar said, a callused hand sliding down her ribs to her waist. Something he’d been doing for a while, she realized. “Faker,” he teased.
Grudgingly—and because the only thing better than Dream Astar was Real Life Astar—she opened one eye to find him propped up on his elbow, golden hair tumbling wildly around his handsome face as he smiled sweetly down at her. Lifting a hand, she brushed the hair out of his eyes, summer-sky blue even in the dimness of the bedchamber. “You’re so pretty,” she murmured. “Let’s stay in bed all day.”
“Tempting,” he agreed, lowering his head to kiss her. Already it felt so normal and right to kiss him, as natural as breathing, as if they’d been lovers all their lives. She rolled into him, tangling her legs with his hairy ones, delighting in the contrast. “But,” he said, breaking the kiss and crushing her hopes, “I have responsibilities.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m going to hear that a lot from you, aren’t I?”
He grinned, kissing her on the nose. “It’s like you know me.” Lightly smacking her bottom—though she didn’t miss how his hand lingered a moment longer there, fingers curling lovingly over the curve he could hold in one hand—he threw back the covers and strode away.
She levered up to watch him go, his tautly muscled ass a mouthwatering sight. Perfectly shaped, it flexed with a mesmerizing rhythm over the golden-haired backs of his thighs, his hips narrow and shoulders broad. What a gorgeous man. He glanced over his shoulder, catching her looking. She crooked a finger to beckon him back, but he shook his head. “We have a breakfast meeting,” he informed her and disappeared into the bathing chamber.
“Who is ‘we’?” she said suspiciously.
“Groningen asked for you, too, or I wouldn’t have wakened you,” he called from the bathing chamber, splashing water vigorously. “A messenger has already been and gone. The king is waiting.”
Groaning, she flopped onto her back, cocooning the covers around her and gripping them under her chin. “Does he never sleep? The man is a monster,” she complained. “Hey, don’t you technically outrank him?”
“I’m only an heir. Until and unless I’m crowned high king, I’m basically a nobody.”
“That’s obviously not true,” she muttered.
Astar came back into the room, still naked and briskly toweling dry his wet hair. Zeph debated with herself over which view was better. While his back would be enough to satisfy her eye for masculine beauty, the front had the added features of the golden treasure trail arrowing down to his truly impressive cock, which she’d barely gotten to play with at all. After that truly spectacular, if abbreviated consummation of her long-held desires—and she wasn’t complaining, but she also wanted much, much more—they’d fallen asleep in the tub. She might’ve stayed that way, solidly unconscious in the rapidly cooling water, if Astar hadn’t dragged her out and carried her to bed, where they’d both passed out again. She was developing a fondness for him carrying her around in those big, strong arms.
“Zephyr,” Astar said, snapping the towel playfully at her. “You have to get up.”
“Make me,” she invited, letting the covers fall away from her bare breasts and stretching her arms languidly over her head.
He eyed her and came to the bed, edging one knee onto it and bending to kiss her. That was more like it. She received the kiss with enthusiasm, tangling her fingers in his damp curls while he ran a hand down her side, brushing the covers away to bare her body. She moved under his touch, humming in encouragement.
In the next moment, he’d scooped her up and tossed her over his shoulder, her naked bottom high in the air as she draped over his back, her hair falling all around her face. Shrieking in surprise, she hammered on his back with the meat of her fists, kicking, too—but he grasped her firmly and smacked her on her bottom as he carried her into the bathing chamber.
He seemed to like doing that—which she could work with. However, her delight in being carried by him didn’t extend to this upside-down thing. So, she shifted into a small cat, giving him a good scratch as she
leapt away. Shifting back to human form wearing a simple burgundy velvet dress adequate for court breakfast—or it should be, according to her mother’s complex and detailed instructions—and with her hair clean and neatly falling free, she smirked at Astar. “I’m ready to go. Why are you still undressed?”
He grinned at her, apparently unbothered by the scratches. “Got you up, didn’t I? Dressing won’t take long.”
The whole group—save Rhy, of course—was at breakfast, along with assorted other advisers and some of Groningen’s multitudes of heirs. She and Astar were among the last to arrive, giving everyone ample opportunity to observe that they arrived together. Whatever resolution Astar had come to about their liaison, he was sticking to it. Not that Astar would ever deviate from the course he’d decided was the honorable one. He escorted her into the hall with her hand tucked into the crook of his elbow, and he seated her beside him with gallant concern.
Gen had clearly been watching the doorway, because she spotted them immediately, paling in shock before her face solidified into outrage, twin flags of color on her cheeks as she followed them with a hard gaze. Zeph was more than a little tired of Gen’s attitude, but the deed was done now, so hopefully Gen would let it go. Zeph couldn’t unfuck Astar even if she wanted to. Gen would have to live with that reality.
Fortunately for the privacy of Zeph’s sex life, the conversation about the stone giant and odd magical occurrences around Lake Sullivan dominated all conversation. They ate breakfast, yes, but Groningen also required each member of the group to relate their version of events, and his advisers subjected them to more questions. Groningen was seemingly inexhaustible, keeping them there for several hours before releasing most of them to enjoy the charms of Elderhorst, in keeping with their cover story.
Astar, however, had to stay behind for yet more talking, kissing Zeph’s hand and giving her an intimate smile full of promise for later. No sooner had she strolled out of the hall than Gen and Lena both pounced on her, Jak and Stella trailing behind.
Lena gave her an arch look. “Well??”
Zeph only gave a close-lipped catlike smile.
“I cannot believe you,” Gen hissed. “After everything we discussed!”
“You lectured,” Zeph corrected. “Now your worst fears have been realized, so you can move on with your life.”
“Oh, no,” Gen replied darkly, “my worst fears just became more likely.”
“What’s going on?” Jak wanted to know.
“Astar and Zeph are sharing a room,” Gen answered, making it sound like they’d spent the night roasting small children over a fire.
“Oh yeah?” Jak grinned at Zeph. “He’s a lucky guy and you look happy, so well done.”
“It is not well done,” Gen gritted out.
Stella came to Zeph, giving her a somber smile, her eyes a quiet dove gray. Breaking her habitual distance, she embraced Zeph and kissed her on the cheek, a buzz of green healing magic in it. “He’s so happy,” Stella whispered in her ear. “Thank you.”
Zeph gazed back in surprise, not sure why Nilly was thanking her for ravishing her brother. Except that Astar did seem relaxed and happy in a different way this morning. See? It had been good for him to shed some of those confining rules.
“I want to hear everything,” Lena announced.
Stella put her hands over her ears. “Oh, I don’t!”
“I think I’ll skip that, too,” Jak said, turning to Stella. “Shall we go find something more interesting to do?”
“Yes. I’d love to see that museum about the lake creature,” she replied with enthusiasm. “Sorry, Zeph.”
“Oh, wait for me,” Lena said. “I want to see that, too.”
Jak rolled his eyes, but Stella nodded. “All right. We could go see the geothermal pools beneath the castle instead.”
“But I want to see those, too,” Lena protested.
Jak narrowed his eyes at her. “Look, Lena—”
“Why don’t you all go,” Zeph interrupted. “Gen and I need to have a private conversation anyway.”
“I really don’t want to hear the details,” Gen snarled.
“I don’t plan to tell you,” Zeph replied sweetly, taking her by the arm and all but dragging her away. “But we are going to talk. It’s either that or a few rounds of I Eat You, and you know I’ll win.”
“You don’t always win,” Gen retorted, yanking her arm from Zeph’s grip but still stalking along beside her. “And we’re not supposed to put on shapeshifter displays,” she added primly.
Zeph turned down the hall to the room she and Astar were sharing, opening the door and waving Gen in. The maids had been there, so the room had been neatened and cleaned—but Zeph had no doubt that Gen’s keen shapeshifter nose would pick up the lingering scents of sex. A concept that Zeph fully intended to drive home. Judging by the scowl on Gen’s face, Zeph’s point had been made.
“Sit.” Zeph pointed at a chair by the fire and took the other, pouring them both wine.
“Isn’t it a bit early in the day?” Gen inquired silkily, and Zeph congratulated herself on not throwing the wine in Gen’s face. But the two of them had known each other all their lives. With their parents being twins, she and Gen were more like sisters than cousins. Which probably explained some of their sometimes thorny relationship.
“It goes with our cover,” she pointed out instead, pushing the full goblet into Gen’s hands. “We’re supposed to be carefree and having fun. And you need whatever it takes for you to relax.”
“I’m relaxed,” Gen snapped, hands clenched on the goblet.
“Are you in love with Astar?” Zeph asked bluntly.
Gen blinked at her, then took a long swallow of wine.
“Is that a yes?” Zeph asked as gently as she knew how.
“No. I didn’t dignify that question with any answer at all.”
“Definitely a yes,” Zeph decided, then held up her hands in a peacemaking gesture when Gen looked like she might chuck the wine in Zeph’s face. “It’s all right. Astar is easy to love. We all do. It’s like loving warm sunshine and blue summer skies. You’d be crazy not to love him.”
“Are you claiming that you’re in love with Astar?” Gen asked cagily.
A question that absolutely took Zeph by surprise. She blinked at Gen, then took a long swallow of wine.
“That’s a no,” Gen said smugly. “And that is my problem.”
Zeph wasn’t sure how she’d lost control of this confrontation. “My feelings for Astar are my own business,” she decided. That answer would do, especially since she suddenly had no idea what those feelings were. She lusted after him, yes. She also loved him the way she loved warm sunshine and blue summer skies, and she loved how he clung to his ideas of honor, forever trying to do the right thing instead of serving himself first. And the sex had been amazing—but also surprisingly tender, even playful. She’d had so many lovers, but now when she thought about sex, all she could think of was Astar, how he tasted, smelled, and felt. Hearing. Devouring. The way he looked at and touched her. The artless honesty in how he gazed at her, even in the most intense throes of climax, as if only she existed for him.
“It’s not just your business, Zeph. Please listen to me,” Gen was saying, and Zeph jerked herself from her musings to pay attention. “You’re not in love with Astar. You’ve said it yourself that you have no intention of marrying him, of being his queen. You’re in this for the fun, for the thrill of the chase, the hunt, and he is the most elusive prey out there. Astar is the trophy, and you could never resist the challenge of going for the unattainable.”
“I certainly attained him last night,” Zeph retorted, more baldly that she would’ve otherwise, as Gen’s harsh assessment of her character stung.
“Yes.” Gen turned the wine goblet thoughtfully in her hands. “Have you thought about what happens now that you have?”
“We’re staying at Elderhorst at least a couple more nights, so Astar and I will continue to share a ro
om. We discussed it.” There. They had discussed their arrangements and made an adult decision. That should stick in Gen’s craw.
But Gen shook her head in exasperation. “And after that?”
“It depends, I guess.” Though maybe they could share rooms at other inns and castles, or perhaps sneak off into the woods…
“Zeph!” Gen snapped her fingers in Zeph’s face. “This is what I’m trying to tell you. You’re not capable of thinking past the moment, or past the next few weeks. It’s not your fault, your gríobhth First Form drives that kind of spontaneousness and irresponsibility, but—”
“Oh, like a hummingbird is the epitome of groundedness?” Zeph shot back.
Gen glared. “No, but I’m half mossback.”
“So am I,” Zeph pointed out.
“You might be half Dasnarian by blood, but you are all Tala by nature. You’ll enjoy Astar until you get bored, and then you’ll move on.”
Zeph nearly ground her teeth, mentally clacking her beak. “If so, that fits perfectly with the plan. As you may recall, since you pummel me with this fact at every opportunity, Astar has to marry for the high throne. So, we will enjoy each other until it’s time for me to move on and him to marry his paid-for princess.” The thought made her stomach turn, an unfamiliar pang of sickness and banked rage to destroy this faceless woman, the gríobhth fierce in her blood. “Maybe she’ll thank me,” Zeph added flippantly, mostly to make herself feel better. “He’ll come to her well-taught in pleasing a woman in bed.”
“Fine,” Gen hissed, throwing up her hands. “I can’t talk to you. I don’t know why I’m even trying.”
Because Zeph had wanted to have this out, and somehow—as always seemed to happen when she argued with Gen—she ended up on the losing side of the battle. Zeph might be able to consistently beat Gen in I Eat You, but Gen could win I Argue You to Death every time. Well, no one could say Zeph lacked persistence. Gen could make fun of her for following the scent of prey until she got it, but that could be a virtue. Zeph wasn’t one to give up. If that made her a bad person, then so be it. She couldn’t help who she was.
The Golden Gryphon and the Bear Prince: An Epic Fantasy Romance (Heirs of Magic Book 1) Page 18
