Bloody Right

by Georgia Evans

  “Some would call it being cautious, careful, and wanting to be certain.”

  “They might,” he agreed. “They might also call it dilly dallying and keeping a chap hanging.”

  She took a step back—more than one was impossible with the sink at her back—and looked at him. “They might. Do you?”

  Her mouth went dry as she waited for his reply. “No,” he said, after what seemed like an endless pause. “I don’t, Mary. Beats me, really, why you didn’t sock me one for moving so fast.”

  “I think you know why.” Let him mull on that a minute or two. “I’ll put the kettle back on.”

  He stepped back just enough to let her turn and grab the kettle. When she moved to the oven, he had the gas already lit. “Really, honest to goodness coffee?” he asked.

  “Yes, it’s in Gloria’s secret cache. But I doubt she’d mind us digging into it. Some things will keep to celebrate peace, but coffee won’t.”

  The aroma was already fading, she noticed, as she opened the tin. Never mind, she’d add an extra spoonful for taste. It was in a good cause after all.

  She warmed the jug, measured out the coffee and poured on the near-boiling water, covering the jug with a saucer to keep it hot. “Would you like toast? Are you hungry? I’ve some eggs Alice gave me, but I thought we could save those for breakfast.”

  Dear lord! That just came out.

  He didn’t seem upset, though. Just gave a quizzical look. “Are you inviting me to stay for breakfast, Miss LaPrioux?”

  Why be coy? She knew what she wanted and so did he. “Yes.”

  “You do realize,” he said, “how much scandal that will cause.”

  She grinned. “I think your reputation is safe. Once word gets out about Gloria and Andrew’s wedding, the rest of the weekend will fade into the background.”

  He shook his head, but his eyes weren’t telling her no. “I hope you realize, I walked all this way and back with your bicycle to preserve your reputation the other night.”

  “Now’s your chance to destroy it. What do you think?”

  “I think, Mary, that your nice, demure schoolteacher image is downright misleading.”

  Demure? She had to laugh. “Gryffyth, demure women don’t ask men to dance. Besides, I’m not a human woman. I’m a Water Sprite who swims naked when the mood takes her.”

  “That’s right, you do, don’t you?” He was back close now, their knees almost touching. “Are you going to get naked up on the heath tonight?”

  “I don’t think so. We could get naked here.” Oh! God! Had she really said that? Heat burned her face and neck. “Coffee should be ready by now.” Why was she on such a seesaw? She wanted him. He was not averse to the idea, but here she was, fussing over stirring in a tablespoon of cold water to settle the grounds. She had no idea if Gloria even had a coffee strainer, so she grabbed the tea strainer. And she’d forgotten to warm up the milk.

  “Here.” She handed him a cup. “Do you want sugar?”

  “You know what I really want?” he said as he took the cup.

  “Sugar? We have a little.”

  “Forget sugar. Let’s go back to what you said about getting naked.” He gave a wondrously sexy smile. “What I really want is you.”

  Something leapt inside her. “I’m so glad.”

  “So’m I. Come on, let’s sit down.”

  They squeezed close in the big armchair. There was actually warmth coming from the stove by now. “Good coffee,” he said, as he took a sip.

  “Thanks.”

  They sat in silence a few minutes. Was his mind as scrambled as hers? Was he having second thoughts? Worried about what people would say?

  “Mary,” he said, looking away from her, his attention fixed on a point somewhere across the room. “Don’t think I don’t love you and don’t think I don’t want you, because, dammit, I’ve been dreaming about you every night since I met you, but you seem to forget. I’m missing pieces.”

  “You’re missing a leg, Gryffyth.” Dear God! It sounded so harsh said like that, but was that what make him hesitate? “If you can stand it, don’t you think I can?” Wrong word, that.

  He didn’t seem to notice. “It looks pretty awful.”

  “Oh, Gryffyth,” she said, “as if it makes a blind bit of difference to me. I love you, you great lummock! I fancy you. Dammit, I’m asking you to spend the night with me. I’m not going to beg you to stay.”

  “You won’t need to,” he replied, taking her mug out of her hand and putting both hers and his by the fender.

  Then he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her.

  Hard.

  With a wild heat and passion that left her in no doubt as to his intentions. Just to add to the assurance, he pulled her against him and his erection made his interest totally clear. She was gasping for breath then he let her go. Only just long enough to pull her coat off her shoulders. “Stand up,” he said. “We’ve both got too many clothes on. Besides, it’s getting warm in here now.”

  Warm? She was burning with need as he took her coat and spread it on the floor, then put his own beside it.

  “Here?” she asked.

  “I bet it’s warmer than upstairs.”

  Didn’t seem the moment to mention she’d plugged in her bedroom fire. “Yes,” she replied, pulling her knitted jumper over her head as she kicked off her shoes. “Am I the only one getting undressed?” she asked as she started unbuttoning her blouse.

  “I like watching,” he replied, “but better still, I like helping.” He undid the buttons on her blouse, and eased her petticoat straps off her shoulders, pulling it down to her waist to reveal her most unromantic liberty bodice. Then he undid those buttons and pushed the lot off her shoulders.

  She should be cold, standing there in her bra.

  She wasn’t. “My turn.”

  She took off his jacket and unknotted his tie. Then, unbuttoned his shirt, she was startlingly aware of the tension is his body. In a flash, she understood. Gently she brushed the shirt off his shoulders and and saw the leather straps and webbing over his shoulders.

  She looked up at him and marked the strain etched in every muscle. Did he really think this would put her off? She smiled, almost to herself. If Gryffyth Pendragon thought that, he was about to learn otherwise. She stood on tiptoe and kissed him. She brushed her lips over his. Then ran her hands over his chest and arms, stroking and caressing as she rubbed her face against his chest. She let her hand rest on the strap over his shoulder. “I may need some help with this.”

  “Darling, we’ll both need a bit of help.”

  “Do you keep it on? I mean in bed?”

  He shook his head. “I take it off at night, but what to do at times like this, we’ll have to work out between us. I haven’t met many girls since I came back.”

  “Damn good thing too!” She grinned at his shock at her swearing. “You’re mine, Gryffyth Pendragon, and don’t you ever forget it.”

  “Think I’m ever likely to want to?”

  “I hope not!” She also hoped he could manage in spite of that contraption.

  Just to help things along, she started unbuckling his belt.

  “Hold on,” he said. “If my trousers drop too fast, I’ll trip over them.”

  “I’ll catch you if you trip.”

  “No need, just let me hold your shoulder to steady myself.”

  Easy enough to do. Stepping out of the second leg wasn’t the most graceful action in the world, but it definitely showed he was up and ready. She so wanted reach out and touch him. She hesitated, for a couple of seconds, before resting her hand over his erection. It was hard and glorious through the soft cotton.

  The straps and supports and the metal leg didn’t matter, but, “Yellow? It’s yellow?”

  He shrugged. “I said the same thing, wondered if they’d made a mistake and given me a Chinaman’s leg, but no, they’re all yellow. They claim it looks more natural, I think they had a job lot of yellow paint.”

&
nbsp; “I think you’re wonderful.”

  He looked suddenly serious. “I want to make it wonderful, Mary. I want to be your lover.”

  She looked from him to their spread coats. “Let’s go upstairs. It’s got to be easier on the bed than on the floor.” The room would have the chill off it by now. Hot water bottles would help but somehow they didn’t sound sexy.

  “You know, I think you’re right. Upstairs.”

  The chill of the hall was downright icy but by comparison, her room seemed cozy. He grinned at the electric fire sitting in the middle of the room. “Don’t tell me you left that on all day.”

  “Course not, I nipped up and plugged it in while you were getting the coke in. I hoped you’d come on up.”

  “Here I am.” He pulled her close, his mouth pressing on hers, his arms enfolding her as she molded her body into his. She thought of the power of his erection, the scent of leather, the strength in his arms and the glory of his kisses. She wanted him. Her very own Dragon.

  “You could warm us up, I imagine.”

  He shook his head. “Too risky. Might end up burning the house down. That would be a nasty shock for Gloria to get back from her honeymoon to find her house a ruin. I think we can generate enough heat between us, without resorting to Dragonfire.”

  “Let’s get off some of your superfluous clothes.” Her skirt landed on the floor as she stepped out of it, her petticoat fell with it. Her bra went almost as quickly. Her French knickers got the reaction she’d hoped for. “Never knew schoolteachers wore stuff like that!”

  “Undressed a lot of schoolteachers, have you?”

  “No, but a bunch of us boys used to speculate what Mrs. Wallis wore underneath. She was younger then,” he added.

  “That’s shocking!”

  “Isn’t it?” he agreed. “We were only lads then. Now I have much better taste.”

  She shivered, part chill, part anticipation. “Get in bed,” he said, “we can get cozy under the covers.”

  “Do you need help,” she asked, “with that contraption?”

  He nodded. “Dad usually gives me a hand.”

  “Tell me what to do.”

  In the end it only took a couple of minutes. Then he was beside her, under the covers, his hands on her breasts and his mouth on hers. Like a wild thing she ran her hands over his chest and down, to stroke his erection. He let out a groan as she closed her hand over him.

  “Shit!” he muttered.

  She jumped back. “Sorry, Gryffyth.”

  “No!” He pulled her tight. “Not you, me. Thickheaded me! I’ve a packet of condoms snug in my trouser pocket. Damn! I got so carried away.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll get them.” She was out of bed in an instant and grabbing her dressing gown. “I’ll be back.” She needed them as much as he did.

  He sat up. “No, Mary. You shouldn’t be going down for them.”

  “Gryffyth. You stay there and imagine what you’re going to do to me when I get back. Shan’t be a jiffy.”

  She found them in his back pocket and smiled to herself as she palmed the little packet. So he’d planned in advance too. Good! Made her feel a little less brazen.

  She took the stairs two at a time, then paused before opening her bedroom door. This was it!

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Heart racing, hands clammy, Mary opened her bedroom door.

  His smile almost undid her. He was sitting up in bed, the covers pulled up to his waist. Waiting. For her.

  Her throat went dry. “I found them.”

  “Good.”

  Yes, it was. Almost as good as he was.

  He patted the bed beside him. “Come on in. It’s warmer under the covers.”

  She was warmer already.

  She undid the sash, before slipping her dressing gown off her shoulders. A nice seduction move. She hoped. He watched as she walked toward him wearing only her borrowed French knickers. The chill air and goosebumps rather spoiled the effect but it took only seconds to slip under the covers beside him.

  “Here you are.” She held out the paper package.

  “We’ll need those later,” he said, taking them from her and putting them on the bedside table. “Much later.”

  He pulled the covers up to their shoulders. As she slid down beside him, his erection brushed her thigh. She reached out and stroked his hip. “You’re naked.”

  “And you’re not. That’s a rather fetching garment you have on.” His hand stroked over the silk that covered her belly.

  He kissed her again. Hard. With an urgency that had her kissing back with a wild abandon as her hands wandered over his chest, and lower.

  Dear heaven! She was turning into a sex maniac and it felt fantastic. She curled her leg over his as his hand slid up her leg and stroked the top of her thigh. She gave a little whimper and shifted to let him explore further.

  His touch was magic. But then it really was, wasn’t it? This is what had been lacking with her other beaux. They’d been simple humans and now she had a magnificent Other lover, whose hand was between her legs. Stupendous was too tame a word.

  Her fingers stroked down his chest and belly, until she reached the tight nest of curls in his groin and her hand brushed his cock. She closed her hand around his erection, gently moving the foreskin as her thumb skimmed the smooth head.

  “Easy, Mary,” he gasped. “I want this to last. For both of us.”

  “I think it will.”

  “Not if you don’t let go a minute, it won’t. Have you any idea how much I want you?”

  “Show me.”

  He took her up on the invitation.

  He rained kisses on her face and neck, and across her breasts before taking her nipple in his mouth and suckling, as if to draw sustenance from her. She caressed his head, running her fingers through his hair, and closed her eyes to shut out the room, the night, the war, the cold. Everything except Gryffyth’s touch.

  As he kissed, his hands skimmed and stroked, and worked their way over her belly and inside the elastic of her borrowed knickers.

  “Let’s get them off.” He sounded hoarse and raspy as he tugged them down.

  “Alright.” She wiggled and shifted her hips to make it easier. “Be careful, don’t tear them.”

  “Mary, my love, I want you so much it hurts, but I’m not so far gone as to rip the clothes off you.”

  “You could, you know. It might be exciting, but better not, since they’re Alice’s.”

  “I do wonder if she has any left to wear herself. She seems to have been lending sexy drawers all around the village.”

  “Well, everyone has to pitch in. There is a war on, you know.” Oh, dear heaven, that was tactless! But he didn’t seem to mind.

  “Good point. What if they do bring in clothes rationing and women decide not to waste coupons on underthings? Could really spur on the war effort.”

  “If we don’t all die of pneumonia first.”

  “I promise to keep you warm.”

  Just being close to him did that. She kissed him hard and deep, caressing his tongue with hers, until she gave a little sigh and realized his hand was between her legs.

  The sigh became a gasp as he stroked her bush and gently opened her.

  “Gryffyth.” His finger came into her and the gasp became a full-scale cry.

  “You’re so wet,” he whispered.

  “Must be you! Doesn’t happen when I’m at Mrs. Burrows’s knitting evenings.”

  He let out a lovely Dragon roar of laughter. “I should hope not!” He looked into her eyes. “Keep your sexiness for me, promise?”

  It wasn’t hard to say, “Yes.”

  He kissed her again, as his hand played between her legs. She was panting now, gaspingly aware of her body’s response and her growing need.

  Seemed he was too. Awkwardly he moved between her legs. She held him by the waist to steady him as he stroked between her folds with his erection, nudging her nub with the tip until her body cried out for him.
She needed him deep and hard and, as if he could read her mind—maybe he could; who knew what Dragons could do?—he paused a few moments to grab the tiny paper envelope with the condom, and he was inside her. Deep. As her body closed around him, she caressed him with her inner muscles.

  “Gryffyth, please,” she cried.

  “Yes, love!” He started moving, with strong, certain thrusts, as he took her higher and higher. Mary was vaguely aware of little cries coming from her, and the burgeoning need that swelled like a vast echo deep in her core. Pleasure built, peaking again and again until she thought she would die from the pleasure of his cock. He leaned forward, capturing her mouth with his, and her mind spiraled out. She could no longer think, barely knew her name. It was no matter. Nothing mattered but Gryffyth Pendragon and what he did to her.

  She felt the damp of his sweat against her skin. Or was it her sweat? Who cared? Who knew? She called his name. Screamed it, and then her body took over, wild surges of utter pleasure carried her higher and higher. She was flying with her Dragon and with a great scream of joy, she climaxed. He came too, and sagged on top of her.

  She loved the weight of him, pressing her into the mattress, his cock still fluttering inside her as his erection faded.

  She tightened around him. Not wanting to ever let him go. Knowing she couldn’t.

  They had found each other through war, loss and destruction and the magic of the ancients melded them together.

  At some point, he slipped out of her, and turned for a moment to peel off the condom. There was no way he could get to the bathroom to dispose of it.

  She reached into the drawer in her bedside table and handed him a handkerchief. “We can get rid of it in the morning.”

  “Yes,” he replied, as he dropped it on the floor. “In the morning. There’s two more in the packet, remember.”

  As if she’d forget. “I want to wake in your arms.”

  He gave her a gentle kiss on her cheek. “Mary, if I have my way, you’re never going to wake anywhere else.”

  She was too sated, satisfied and joyous to even think about arguing. “I love you,” she said, and snuggled into him.

  It must have been ten, fifteen minutes later as they lay in the glorious intimacy of the aftermath of lovemaking that the siren wailed. They sat up, clutching each other in the dark.