StoneHardPassion

by Anya Richards

  A roll of his hips made her arch, her head going back as her body strained toward release. It was almost too good, the pleasure flaring hotter and hotter as his thrusts grew shorter, deeper, more intense. She was panting, unable to stop the high, pleading whimpers breaking from her lips. Vidar pressed his mouth to her throat, teeth raking across the sensitive tendons, and his hand tightened on her ass, lifting, changing their positions just slightly.

  It was enough—too much.

  She shattered, body convulsing as he kept moving and wave after wave of the orgasm battered through her system, drowning her. Hardly able to breathe, all she could do was ride them, crying out his name, digging her fingers into his flesh, trying to stay anchored and not disintegrate under the ecstatic pressure.

  Vidar was trembling, the muscles beneath her fingers tightening and shivering. He murmured against her neck, words in a language she couldn’t understand but that caused her heart to leap and her body to spasm again.

  He reared above her, silent, his head thrown back, teeth bared, eyes closed. The pulses of his orgasm firing through her blood, filling her with visceral, primitive satisfaction almost as strong as the release she’d just experienced.

  Mine. The word jumped into her mind as he rolled to one side, carrying her with him. He buried his face in her hair, his ragged breathing stirring the strands and giving her goose bumps. Mine.

  And she was too satiated and sleepy to even be frightened by the thought.

  Chapter Eight

  Vidar came awake suddenly. Disoriented, he stared up at the ceiling, wondering why he was lying on the floor, feeling as though he’d spent the day rolling a rock up a hill. Parts of his body he’d never paid much attention to before, like his knees and backside, ached and he wasn’t even moving. Something warm and fragrant curled against his side and a slight weight rested across his groin. Memory crashed through him and his heart leapt.

  Jasmina.

  She was sleeping, leg thrown over him, fingers spread above his racing heart. Even naked as the day he was born, looking down at the top of her head, disbelief sent little shocks through his system. This beautiful woman had allowed him to touch her in the most intimate, lascivious ways, had kissed and caressed him in return.

  And she’d taken him into her body…

  The memory of sliding into her hot, slick depths, her little whimpers ringing in his ears, seeing her arch and writhe, stole his breath. Vidar closed his eyes, alternate waves of hot pleasure and cold insecurity washing through him.

  Did she realize he didn’t really know what he was doing when he made love to her that first time? Had his inexperience shown? He hoped not. Stupid perhaps, but the thought that he may have inadvertently done something wrong made him cringe. From his perspective it had been perfect—more than perfect if that were possible. He couldn’t believe the intensity of the sensations as they kissed, as her hands found places to caress he’d never have thought could feel so good when touched. His lips tingled as he remembered the slide of her skin under them, and his fingers itched to once more explore her body.

  They’d made love three times during the night, and still it wasn’t enough to quench his need for her. He was sore, his knees slightly skinned from the carpet, even his cock felt tender, but still he was contemplating the best way to awaken her so as to do it all over again. Would it be possible to touch her softly while she slept, stirring her desires without actually waking her immediately? His cock throbbed, coming to full erection at the thought of gently tonguing her breasts, easing her legs apart so as to caress her pussy. Maybe he could actually bring her to consciousness with his fingers inside her and his lips on her clitoris. She liked that, he now knew. A slick of perspiration broke out on his forehead at the memory of her screaming his name, her inner muscles contracting around his thrusting digits, the tang of her cream filling his mouth.

  Vidar rolled slowly onto his side. Supporting her head with his free hand, he slid his arm out with slow deliberation. Jasmina murmured slightly, but didn’t awake as he gently eased her back down. Although she curled an arm under her head, she didn’t look very comfortable. Vidar turned to reach for a cushion, his gaze skimming the window. He had the red silk pillow in his hand before he realized what he’d seen outside.

  The sky between the buildings across the road had lightened to dark gray.

  Daylight was coming.

  A shot of adrenaline had him surging to his feet. The cushion fell from his fingers, his only thought now of getting home before the sun’s rays turned him to stone. With a surge of magic he put on his clothing. If he rushed, left immediately, he could make it to a portal and home in time.

  Jasmina sighed, rolling onto her back, and Vidar froze, staring down at her, torn between screaming self-preservation and his equally primal love for her.

  Love won, despite all the problems what he was about to do would cause.

  His heart was pounding as he knelt at her side and gently shook her shoulder.

  “Jasmina, Jazz. Wake up.”

  She brushed at his hand, a frown forming between her brows. “Go ’way. Sleeping.”

  Giving her another little shake, he said, “Jazz, I have to get out of here. It’s almost sunrise.”

  Her eyelids fluttered before lifting. As she met his gaze, a smile started in her eyes and flowed across her face to tilt the corners of her lips. Watching it made his heart race even faster, joy striking at his fear.

  “Vidar.” She touched his arm, her fingers leaving a trail of tingling warmth across his skin. “Come back to bed.”

  “I can’t, sweetheart. The sun’s coming up.”

  Just saying the words made a cold lump form in his stomach. She must have seen the fear in his eyes because she jolted upright, her gaze flying to the living room window. The sky was already light gray, with a hint of rose showing between the buildings across the street.

  “Fuck!” As she shot to her feet she asked, “Why didn’t you wake me sooner?”

  “I just got up myself.”

  She looked as if she wanted to argue but thankfully didn’t. Instead she magicked herself into some clothes, and then made a bolt for the bedroom. He followed, stopping at the door to watch as she threw a couple more things into her messenger bag. “Do we have time to get to the portal?”

  “No.” Vidar clenched his hands into fists, forcing the next words out. “We’ll have to translocate.”

  “Fuck.” She had moved to the trunk at the foot of her bed and, murmuring softly, popped the lock open. Reaching in, she grabbed a jewel-encrusted bottle and tossed it into the bag too. Getting to her feet, Jasmina slung the strap of the bag over her head and settled it across her chest. “I don’t know where we’re going. I can’t translocate us without having a pretty good idea of where we want to end up.”

  “I know.” He held out his hand, knowing his fingers were shaking slightly. “I’ll do it.”

  Jasmina froze, staring at him. Obviously she knew translocation wasn’t a troll ability. “What?”

  “I said I’ll translocate us to my home.” Her lips opened, as though to question him, and he held up his hand to stop her. “I’ll explain it to you, I promise, but can we just get out of here now?”

  She gave him a long, searching look, and whatever she saw must have convinced her. Vidar released a harsh breath, relief washing through him as she took his hand. “Sure. Whenever you’re ready.”

  It took a lot to marshal the magic, since it wasn’t something he did, ever. The rush of it startled him and he struggled to pull it together, focus on what he needed to do. As her bedroom blurred around him, Jasmina clutched his fingers tighter, hopefully not out of fear.

  They rematerialized at the edge of the snow-covered lower field, and although he could see perfectly well in the dark, he used his magic to light one of the torches set in a bracket mounted on the split-rail fence. He loosened his grip on Jasmina’s hand, giving her the chance to let go if she wanted to, but she didn’t. Even so, he couldn’t
shake the sense of foreboding churning in his stomach. Having someone else, even Jasmina, know about his magical abilities made him vulnerable.

  She was looking around, taking in what she could see of the meadow ahead of them. Turning, she looked first at the path going up the hill and then at the woods behind them, but the slew of questions he was expecting didn’t materialize. The silence unnerved him, made him desperate to break it.

  “There’s a couple hours difference between the city and here. That’s why it’s still dark. Gives me a chance to move the stock before we head up to the house.”

  At the sound of his voice, the sheep began moving, sleepy baas and scuffling heralding their approach to the gate. A soft woof hurried them along, and thankfully distracted Jasmina, who glanced that way as the first of the flock came into view.

  “Where are you taking them?” Her voice faded, and she suddenly stepped back, pressing against his side. “And what the fuck is that?”

  He knew what had startled her, and Vidar couldn’t help chuckling as he put an arm around her shoulders, giving a reassuring squeeze. “That’s just Ragnor. Rokk will be around somewhere too.”

  “You have wolves herding your sheep? Isn’t that an oxymoron?”

  “What could be better?” Ragnor jumped over the fence, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, and Vidar tightened his hold as she pressed closer. With his fangs visible and golden eyes glowing in the torchlight the gray wolf was a somewhat fearsome sight, until you looked at his wagging tail. “They keep all the other wolves away.”

  She stood stiff and still although the wolf paid her no attention. Instead Ragnor came over to lick his hand and rub against his leg.

  “I’m not surprised. They’d keep me away.” But Jasmina relaxed slightly even as she said it. “How did you end up with them?”

  Ragnor ran back to the fence, taking up position beside the gate. With a final squeeze, Vidar let go of Jasmina’s shoulder so as to follow. “I found them in the forest, no sign of their mother. They were barely weaned and I couldn’t leave them to die.”

  “Trolls have a natural affinity with animals don’t they?”

  She tried to sound matter-of-fact, but he could hear the curiosity in her voice too. He took the time to open the gate and let the first of the flock stream through before he answered.

  “Most do.”

  The flock was frisky, and Ragnor let out another low woof before taking off up the hill to rein in a couple of renegades that decided to go off the track.

  “And you can do lesser spells too, right—make fire and that kind of stuff?”

  He knew he’d have to talk to her about his unusual abilities, but now the time had come fear made his mouth go dry.

  “Yeah.”

  Rokk herded the last of the flock through the gate and, as the big white male loped onto the track, Jasmina gasped. As though the sound caught his full attention, the wolf’s head swung toward her and he froze, tail stiff, sticking straight out behind him.

  “Vidar.” Her voice wavered and she wrapped her arms around her waist. “Why is it looking at me like that?”

  With an amusing, stiff-legged swagger, Rokk started toward Jasmina, his tail swishing slowly from side to side. “I think he likes you.”

  “I hope so.” To her credit, the jinn stood her ground instead of translocating away. “If his intentions aren’t honorable, I could be in trouble.”

  But it was obvious Rokk meant her no harm. In fact, if it weren’t a little ridiculous, Vidar would swear it was love at first sight for the wolf. Coming to a standstill in front of Jasmina, the beast looked up into her face and whined softly. After a brief hesitation, Jasmina stretched out her hand. The wolf didn’t even bother sniffing her fingers. Instead he simply stuck his muzzle into her palm.

  “You are a gorgeous fellow, aren’t you?” Laughter colored Jasmina’s crooned words, and Rokk’s tail wagged even harder. “I’m beginning to realize I have a distinct partiality to blond males.”

  She glanced up at Vidar through her lashes, and a shiver trickled down his spine. The wolf responded to her voice by inching closer, his entire back end swiveling from side to side instead of just his tail. Jasmina laughed and leaned down to scratch behind his ears with both hands. Happy for the reprieve from her questions, Vidar didn’t intervene, just watched as Rokk did everything but turn himself inside out to woo and impress Jasmina. How could he complain, anyway, when the wolf was doing exactly what he wanted to do himself?

  “You’re a huge flirt, aren’t you, Rokk?” Jasmina was giggling, and the incandescent sound filled Vidar with joy. “Such a naughty, beautiful boy.”

  Who knew how long the love-fest would have continued if a querulous yip hadn’t come from Ragnor farther up the hill, reminding both Vidar and the wolf what they were supposed to be doing.

  “That’s enough now, Rokk. Go help Ragnor with the sheep.” The wolf gave Vidar a scathing look, but took off up the path after a final lick of Jasmina’s wrist. With a sweep of one hand, Vidar lit other torches lining the track and said, “We should head up too. I need to get the flock into the day meadow before sunrise.”

  “Sure.” Jasmina fell into step beside him and twined her fingers with his. The gesture warmed him, but didn’t dispel his anxiety. He just knew she wouldn’t be able to let the conversation about his magic go, and it didn’t take long for her to bring it up again. They hadn’t even got to the first bend in the path before she said, “So, I didn’t think trolls could translocate.”

  There was no way to avoid the discussion, but hopefully she’d be satisfied with part of the story. He shrugged slightly, desperately trying to seem unconcerned. “Some trolls have additional abilities.”

  “If you can do it, why don’t you?”

  Anger and fear rising in his chest colored his curt reply. “I’m a simple man. I don’t have a problem walking to get to where I need to go.”

  The grip of her fingers got stronger, and she stopped walking, turning to look up at him. “I don’t understand—”

  “I’m just a farmer. I don’t need magic to put on my clothes or get from one place to another. Others do without it, and so do I.”

  Even he could hear the defensiveness in his words, but when he finally forced himself to look down at her, Jasmina’s eyes were soft with understanding. “You don’t want to be seen as strange, different.”

  How easy it would be to latch on to that explanation, let her go on thinking that was the reason, but something broke free in his heart under her tender scrutiny. “Frightening.” The word forced its way out of his mouth, and then he couldn’t stop. “I don’t want the others to be frightened of me. It’s bad enough as it is.”

  Jasmina grasped his other hand, her thumb moving slowly over his skin in soothing circles. “Why would they be frightened?”

  Vidar shook his head, letting himself be drawn in by the sweet sympathy in her gaze, desperately hoping it wouldn’t disappear. Swallowing his fear, he said, “The man who fathered me was a renegade, a throwback to the marauding tribes of old. He could translocate and used the ability to intimidate others.” He faltered, drew strength from the warm clasp of her hands around his, the steadiness of her gaze. “He was an animal, terrorizing all the beings living in his vicinity. My mother ran away when she knew she was pregnant with me, leaving her family behind so no one would know who my father was. I’ll never forget the look of fear on her face the first time she realized I could translocate too. She made me promise not to let others know I could, and once I knew why, I kept that promise.”

  “She was afraid for you.” Jasmina nodded, as if to reinforce her words. “She didn’t want anyone thinking you were like him. And you’re not, at all.”

  Her quick defense of his character made some of his fear retreat. He even mustered a small smile, although his heart clenched with pain. “Thanks. I think she’d be glad to hear you say so.”

  Jasmina’s gaze searched his, and whatever she saw there made her whisper, “What
happened to your mother?”

  Vidar tried to draw a steadying breath but his throat felt as though it was filled with glass, and the air rasped as he inhaled. “He found her. I don’t think she thought he’d even care that she was gone. Years later I found out that he’d stolen her from her family, had kept her for months before she escaped. She never spoke about it, but I saw how scared she was of strangers, saw how we hid from most people. He abused her and probably thought of her as his. One night, just before sunrise, we were tending the sheep when he appeared. He came after me, and my mother screamed for me to get away. Before I even understood what was happening, she grabbed him and then they were both gone.”

  Jasmina’s eyes had widened as he spoke, and the grip of her fingers on his was almost painful. Questions swirled across her face, but she seemed unable to articulate them. Taking another deep, painful breath, he said, “I never saw her alive again. He translocated them back to where they came from, and they got caught in the sun.”

  “By the stars.” She sounded as though the story hurt her as much as it did him. “How old were you?”

  “About eleven.” He tugged her hand, gently turning her back up the hill. “We have to go up, Jazz.”

  He didn’t want to talk about it anymore. It still hurt too much, even with her quiet acceptance and empathy taking much of the sting out of the telling. She was silent as they went up the path, turning the final corner and continuing toward the plateau above. As they exited the track and moved toward where the sheep milled close to the hillside, held there by Ragnor and Rokk, she came to a stop.

  “Vidar.” Her voice was low and strained. “Who looked after you when your mother disappeared?”

  He couldn’t look at her, had to make it seem as though what he was about to say didn’t matter, although it had colored every aspect of his life from that moment on. In fact he walked away toward the cliff face, throwing the words carelessly over his shoulder.