Wildest Dreams

by Kristen Ashley

  He also made sure I had a kettle of boiling water, a cup and tea infuser.

  The bad news was, by the time I made it to the cabin, I’d begun to get nervous.

  What if it didn’t work or it went wonky? What if Frey wasn’t into this kind of thing? What if we got a bad batch and not-so-good things happened?

  I stood by the boiled kettle that, in the not even close to warm cabin was cooling fast and worried my lip. Then I heard a noise outside and jumped, thinking it was Frey. I looked to the closed door; it didn’t open so I looked back to the kettle.

  I did not partake of drugs, this was an adventure Mom and Dad warned me (repeatedly) was not worth risking.

  But this was the bark of a beautiful tree. It was natural. It wasn’t drugs… exactly.

  Shit!

  There was another thump outside and I jumped yet again, looking to the door. After several moments with no Frey I decided to suck it up.

  It was now or never.

  And I lived in the now… with Frey.

  I grabbed the infuser, poured the tiny, glittery, gorgeous pieces of bark into it, shaking the pouch to make sure they were all out. Then I screwed the infuser closed, dropped it into the cup and poured over the steaming water. Then I waited, staring at it wondering how long it should infuse. Then wondering if I should wait for Frey before I tried it.

  Then I took hold of the little chain, dunked the infuser several times and watched with fascination as glitter flowed out of the infuser, permeating the liquid and making the water in the cup actually glow.

  Yes… glow.

  Totally freaking cool.

  I pulled the infuser out, set it aside and after taking a deep breath, before I lost my nerve, I lifted the cup to my lips and took a sip.

  Holy moly!

  I stared into the glowing cup.

  Heaven. Absolutely divine.

  I took another sip tasting licorice and peppermint with hints of vanilla.

  God, celestial.

  Taking another sip I decided that the gods of this world had to exist. No other being could create something so heavenly.

  On sip four, I felt it start and on sip five it grew stronger. I knew it because I was no longer tasting the tea, I was feeling it. The flavor had intensified to such an extent it was a thrill simply experiencing it. Sip six brought more, the coolness of the air in the cabin started stinging my skin, the drafts gliding across were almost physical. The shine on the brass on the instruments on the walls had grown so bright, it was nearly blinding. I could feel every centimeter of the handle of the cup weighing on my fingers. I could hear the men moving about on deck above me.

  Wow. This stuff worked fast and it was awesome.

  Sip seven and I’d had half the cup. I wanted more, it was delicious, divine, freaking bliss in liquid form but I forced myself to set the cup down to save the second half for Frey.

  Then the warmth slid through me, starting right in my sex and slinking up, down and out until it heated me from top-to-toe, every inch of my skin, every centimeter of my innards. The warmth was so intense I had to put my hand to the table to hold myself steady because I thought my legs might buckle from under me.

  It didn’t freak me out because the sensation was nowhere near scary.

  It was beautiful.

  So beautiful, so intense, so pervasive, I felt like I was going to overheat.

  God, if Frey didn’t get to the cabin soon, I was going to have to take care of myself.

  And I knew I’d enjoy every… freaking… second.

  I heard his boots on the steps outside and my feet moved me directly to the door. They did this because suddenly my hands itched to touch him, my tongue was dry with the need to taste him, my stomach was hollow with hunger for him and my sex ached for his to fill it.

  And because of this, he barely closed the door when I was all over him, pressing close, my hands gliding up his chest to curl around the back of his neck. In position, I insistently pulled his mouth down to mine.

  “Fin –” he got out which was good, perfect, his mouth was open and since my lips were there, my tongue slid inside.

  Oh yes. Ho boy. Yes.

  I had my answer. I’d never tire of the taste of him, ever.

  I felt his hands on my hips and the touch was light but it burned into me and felt so freaking good I moaned into his mouth.

  That mouth tore from mine as he shuffled me in a few steps and I pulled on his neck to bring him back.

  “Wee one, what on –?” he asked but something caught his attention, he glanced beyond me briefly then did a double take, his head jerking to look back at the table.

  Then he looked down at me, his eyes locked on mine and he studied me intensely as his arms glided around me, pulling me close.

  I bit my lip at the touch of his hard body against mine and wondered if he’d be put off if I started tearing off my clothes (and his) when his head bent and his face got close.

  His voice was a low rumble that reverberated through me, causing my knees to go weak (and a variety of other things, all so fabulous they were nearly tortuous), when he asked, “That cup, Finnie, it glows. Have you drunk of the adela?”

  I pressed closer, my lids had lowered, I was trying to focus on not pressing my mouth to his (or pressing it other places) but instead answering his question and also assessing his reaction to this idea and I whispered, “The girls gave it to me. Uh… to us.”

  He stared at me for a second that seemed to last five hours then both his hands were suddenly on either side of my head, he tipped it back and thank God, thank God, thank God, God, God, he was kissing me, hard, deep with lots and lots of tongue.

  I shivered against him and held on tight.

  Oh man. I was going to come just from kissing.

  His mouth tore from mine, the heat in my body was communicated in the heat in his eyes and he growled, “By the gods, wife, you suit me.”

  Then he whisked me up in his arms, carried me to the table, planted my ass on it and curled a hand around my neck as he curved the fingers of his other through the handle of the cup. He picked it up and I held my breath as he held my eyes while he brought it to his lips. Then I lost his eyes as his neck bent back and he downed the whole thing in one gulp.

  Okay, evidence was clearly suggesting Frey was really, really into this.

  His head righted, he set the mug aside and he grabbed my legs behind the knees, opened them and moved between.

  Oh yeah. Now we were talking.

  My hands slid up his chest to latch onto his neck and my legs lifted up, knees bent, to press against his hips as he leaned into me.

  “They explained what the adela does?” he asked as he braced one hand on the table while the other arm curled around me.

  “Unh-hunh,” I mumbled, staring at his mouth and wishing it wasn’t so damned far away.

  “And you want this, Finnie?”

  I forced my eyes up to his and my mind to concentrate. “Is it bad?”

  “No,” he replied, his arm lifting me up from the table and pressing my body into his as I watched his heated eyes start to scorch. “But it’s powerful, wee one. You do not share the adela cup with someone you don’t trust with every inch of you.”

  Oh yes. Every inch of me.

  I liked that. I wanted to get to the every inch of me part.

  “But you drank it,” I whispered instead of whined because he still wasn’t kissing me but he’d bent lower, his arm curling around and cushioning the back if my neck, his body leaned deep into mine, pressing it into the table even as he pulled it up and into him.

  He grinned and his grin was so damned wicked it was physical.

  I trembled in a really, really good way and he whispered, “You’re in no state to change your mind.”

  He was right about that.

  “And, my Finnie, I trust you with every inch of me,” he went on and I felt that too, all through me, and that was in a really, really good way too.

  So good, my lids lowered an
d I pressed my hips into his.

  “Finnie, love, look at me,” he growled, I opened my eyes and saw his were so damned hot, they were fevered.

  It was a seriously good look, the best ever.

  “It is strong but I will walk out that door, Finnie, look in my eyes, focus and tell me, are you ready for this?”

  I looked in his eyes, I focused for a nanosecond and then I told him the truth that would be the truth if I’d drunk from a glowing cup, just woke up in the morning, was eating lunch or was about to fall asleep at night.

  “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 awarene
ss 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.”