Demon Lover: Fairytale Fantasies, Book 2

by Bonnie Dee

  It had always been there, that feeling, incipient but powerful, even in those early nights, spinning straw into gold, when he’d kissed her and aroused her and pleasured her. Wanting him, she’d married the king, but had never stopped wanting him, even through the worst of her anger.

  And now she had him. He’d made love to her like an angel, giving her an ecstasy she’d never known and never imagined. And she’d made him come at last. She could still feel his seed inside her, trickling around his semi-hard cock which still nestled in her pussy.

  Lowering her head, she kissed his mouth, almost with wonder. Then, feeling his cock twitch and grow once more inside her, she pushed him onto his back and climbed astride him.

  “So if we’re not playing, what now?” she said breathlessly.

  In an instant, he’d rolled her over and taken his own weight on his elbows. “Now we have more than that paltry two hours,” he said, and slid out of her, tracing a line of kisses down her breasts and stomach. Pausing only to part her thighs, he continued on his way, teasing her by kissing everywhere but her pussy.

  He said, “The very first time I made you come was like this.” And he latched his mouth to her lower lips in a strong, sensual kiss that made her cry out. “But it seems I’m losing my touch.”

  “No,” she gasped. “I’ve just learned more. From you.”

  “So now I have to work for your climaxes?”

  “Yes, please…”

  Laughing softly, he licked her clitoris, and she clutched his head in abandon. She let her hips move as they wanted to, drinking in the rhythm of his kisses as he pleasured her. When he slid one finger inside her, the tension grew. When another joined it and he began to suck her clitoris, lashing it with his tongue as he slid those fingers up and down her slick pussy, she began to come. And kept coming in one long, searing stream that she thought would never end.

  Only when it finally calmed did he rear up on his knees, smiling wolfishly as he wiped her juices off his face with the back of his hand and pushed his hot, rigid cock inside her. She welcomed him with an exhausted purr.

  “Again,” he said, and rode her hard. She didn’t think she could. She concentrated on his pleasure, thrusting upward to meet his every stroke, squeezing and teasing his cock with her still trembling internal muscles. And she could feel his galloping pleasure, the tightening of his heavy balls as she avidly stroked them. And her own climax rose up swiftly with his. Some instinct propelled her upward into a sitting position so that she could grab around his neck and kiss him, open mouthed and gasping as they came, grinding and convulsing together.

  Eventually, dragging her mouth free, she buried it in his shoulder instead, smiling.

  “I love you, Ragnorak.”

  He grew very still, as if she’d shocked him. Did he really not know? But when she would have raised her head to gaze at him, he held her face into his shoulder. His body jerked and she wondered if he was weeping again.

  He said something muffled. It might have been, “I’ve never known such happiness.” She hoped it was. Fiercely, she wanted to give him every happiness of which he was capable.

  At last he raised her head to kiss her, a long, sweet kiss. “Gwyneth…”

  Brea gave a snuffle and as one, both their heads turned toward the cot. Gwyneth didn’t need to ask him to move. He withdrew at once and, even through her anxiety, she welcomed the spasm of pleasure induced by his cock sliding out of her. Naked, she leapt off the bed and covered the few paces to the cot.

  Brea grinned at her and kicked off the cover.

  Gwyneth laughed and picked her up. At once, she began snouting in Gwyneth’s shoulder, looking for milk.

  “Is she all right?” Ragnorak asked.

  “Fine. She’s just hungry. The fever’s completely gone.” Gwyneth flung a little gown over the baby’s head and brought her back to the bed. There she paused. “Do you mind if I feed her here?”

  Ragnorak shook his head slowly. A small, curiously sad smile played around his mouth. “No. I’d like you to.”

  She climbed back into bed and settled Brea on to her breast while Ragnorak watched. After a moment, his arm came ’round her shoulder, gentle and cherishing, encompassing both of them, and Gwyneth’s happiness was complete.

  “Idiot,” snarled Midas, shooing the old woman from his presence. “That can’t be his name.”

  Or had he really gone mad to be imagining he could summon this semi-mythical brother from some magical underworld by the speaking of his name? Whether the name was wrong, or his memory of what to do with it, “Svartan” had certainly not worked. Any more than “Rumpelstiltskin” had worked for stupid Gwyneth.

  But as the door closed behind the shuffling old hag, he was again sure he was right. The memory, stirred by the old woman’s genuine ramblings, reformed. He saw again his sick, old father clutching him, gibbering nonsensical words that had meant nothing then and everything now. “Just say his name. Say his name and he’s got to come. His name is…”

  Not Svartan, no! But he almost had it! Almost…

  “Say his name and he’s got to come. His name is…Ragnorak!”

  “Yes! Got you!” Midas whispered.

  Leaping to his feet, he walked to the middle of the room. “Ragnorak, my brother, I summon you! Come to me now!”

  Chapter Seventeen

  As he disappeared from beside her, the echo of Gwyneth’s cry rang in Ragnorak’s ears. The power inside that allowed him to shift rock and compress air was beyond his control now. He whirled through space against his will, tumbling through the air and landing on a hard stone floor. He dragged himself up from an awkward sprawl to stand on shaky legs and face his summoner.

  Midas, garbed in gold and wearing a lavish necklace of jewels in a gold setting, stood before him looking every inch a monarch. But looking into his eyes, Ragnorak could see his character was weak, spoiled, selfish, cruel and all thing unkingly. He didn’t deserve to rule and certainly didn’t deserve a wife and daughter like Gwyneth and Brea.

  Ragnorak had been unable to resist the call of his name, but that didn’t mean he had to bow down and obey this man like some spirit uncorked from a bottle. He was a king in his own right, ruler of the entire underworld. He straightened his shoulders, aware of his naked torso and glad he’d happened to put on a pair of drawers before being abruptly pulled from his bed.

  “You called my name…brother?” He glared with hard-eyed intensity at Midas.

  The other man glanced nervously at the guards standing nearby and ordered, “Seize him.”

  Obediently, two soldiers approached Ragnorak. He held up a negligent hand, to solidify the air and block their approach. He was behind an invisible shield of his own making as he’d been the time he’d come to claim Gwyneth.

  “You may have the power to summon me, Midas, but you can’t imprison me. Our mutual father asked my mother to grant this boon—a bond between us, if you will—hoping I might come to your aid should you ever truly need me. Mother graciously granted the request, weaving the power of summoning into my name. But this is a one-time use only. You can’t use the summons again.” The last bit was a lie, but Midas didn’t need to know that. “Now what is it you want from me?”

  “My wife back! She’s been imprisoned in your realm by some demon. Find her. Return her and my daughter to me at once.”

  Did the man really not know it was he who had taken Gwyneth? Ragnorak studied his face and weighed his options. He meant to return Brea and Gwyneth to the topside world anyway, but not to this undeserving man. Somehow he must secure their freedom from Midas, making certain Gwyneth and Brea lived happily at last.

  “I could grant that request, but I’m not here to serve you. This is a negotiation between us.”

  “I don’t play games unless I know I’ll win,” Midas said flatly. “And a king doesn’t need to negotiate. He takes.”

  “He negotiates with the monarch of another kingdom unless he wishes to provoke a war.” Ragnorak imbued his words and
glare with as much threat as he could muster, which was considerable. He didn’t really intend to create a conflict between the lower and upper worlds, having worked too hard to overcome the enmity between them. But again, what Midas didn’t know could be used to manipulate him.

  “As I said, I could return your wife and child,” he continued, “but I sense there are things you’d find more valuable. My realm is full of the minerals and stones you apparently deem valuable.” He indicated the opulent neckpiece Midas wore. “Gold is a poor mineral as far as my people are concerned. It’s not hard enough to be of great value to us.”

  “You’re suggesting I trade my adored wife and baby for jewels and gold? What sort of man would do such a thing?”

  “A man who loved a woman only when he thought she could spin straw into gold. I’m telling you now, Gwyneth does not have that ability. I fulfilled the task you set for her. The woman has no special powers beyond what every woman has.”

  “You lie. You’re the one who took her and you want to keep her for yourself!”

  “No. I want her to be free, and I’m willing to bargain for her freedom.” An idea flamed to life in his mind, a way to appease Midas while securing Gwyneth’s safety.

  “What kind of a bargain? I have a kingdom that skates on the verge of financial collapse. I would need great incentive to sacrifice my cherished family for wealth to support my country.”

  Ragnorak folded his arms over his bare chest and stared at his half-brother. “Your people will admire you for making such a noble sacrifice on their behalf,” he said dryly. “How much would make it worth your while to divorce Gwyneth—who, incidentally, has already divorced you according to our laws—sever your parental rights over Brea and allow them to leave the palace and live comfortably in a home of their own?”

  Realizing he had something Ragnorak desired seemed to restore some of Midas’s lost bravado. He strode toward him, heels clicking on the flagstones, and stopped only when he reached the invisible barrier. From several feet away, he stared at Ragnorak. “You fancy yourself in love with the wench? How amusing. What is it about you lowborn demons that draws you to the light of our world? You don’t belong here, and no one from here can ever belong to you.”

  Ragnorak was growing impatient. He wanted to make the deal and be done with it, cut Gwyneth cleanly from his life and slink away to lick his wounds. “I know that,” he said through gritted teeth. “Thus the offer of a deal.”

  He could almost see the wheels turning in Midas’s head as he tried to calculate how much he could get away with. Ragnorak realized right then that no matter what figure he came up with, however many bushels of diamonds, emeralds, sapphires, rubies or pounds of gold and silver, Midas would always think he should have held out for more. And Ragnorak could never feel certain Gwyneth and Brea were truly safe.

  “This arrangement will be ongoing,” Ragnorak suggested. “I’ll return Gwyneth and Brea to the castle and fill one storeroom with gold. In a month, my proxy will check on their wellbeing. If their situation meets with his approval, I’ll fill your storeroom again. After that I’ll check on their progress yearly. As long as they’re safe, secure and content, I’ll supply a roomful of metals or gemstones, per your request.”

  “What happens if either should fall ill through no fault of mine?”

  Ragnorak smiled, and he knew his smile could chill the blood and make a man cower in fear. “You should hope they remain in good health—and happy. Do we have a deal?”

  Midas paused a moment, searching for an angle, a way to push for just a little bit more than the already generous offer.

  “My patience wears thin,” Ragnorak thundered, leaning toward the other man. “And if I leave now, I keep everything. The only way you would wrest Gwyneth or the gold from me would be through full scale war between my nation and yours. Trust me. You don’t want to rouse my ire.” He sent out a wave of power from his hand that shattered the stone mantelpiece with a crack, sending shards of rock and dust raining to the floor.

  “Yes. All right. It’s a deal,” Midas agreed quickly. “A yearly supply of gold, and I’ll leave the woman alone.”

  “Done!” Ragnorak released the protecting air around him and stepped forward to grasp his half-brother’s hand and give it a firm shake. Then he sent out a powerful wave that shaped both air and stone to his will and disappeared with a clap of thunder.

  Gwyneth had been pacing the room with Brea held to her shoulder, rubbing the baby’s back for what felt like hours, ever since Ragnorak had inexplicably disappeared from beside them.

  She’d felt the suction of a vortex as his solid form evaporated to be replaced by nothing but air, but she and Brea had not been pulled along with him to wherever he’d gone. Why would he leave them so abruptly between one breath and the next? She found it impossible to believe he’d gone of his own will. Some force had drawn him away from her—but to where and would he return?

  At last she could take worrying in solitude no longer and was about to go find Karnak and explain the situation. Perhaps he or Agnet would have some insight into where their lord had disappeared to. Gwyneth laid the now sleeping baby back in her cradle and turned to walk from the room. At that moment, Ragnorak reappeared with a whoosh that set the air rippling as if a stiff breeze had swept through the room.

  He stood in the center of the bedroom—no longer a fearsome figure garbed in deadly black, but a half-nude and vulnerable man. His guise had been stripped away, and Gwyneth knew him now for who he really was with all his strengths and weaknesses. Ragnorak was a ruler who cared for his people and tirelessly worked toward a better world for them. His kingly mantle made him a bit arrogant at times, but beneath it was a streak of self-doubt about his ability to lead. He was acutely aware of his half-blood status and felt somewhat of an outsider even among his own people. He was passionate, lonely, brave, reserved, powerful, uncertain. He was so many things, but most importantly, he was hers.

  She rushed to him and threw her arms around him, pressing her cheek to his hard chest and listening to his strong heartbeat. “What happened?”

  “I was called away.” A humorless chuckle vibrated through his chest. He held her for a brief moment before grasping her shoulders and pushing her back.

  Gwyneth looked into his face. “By whom?”

  “A relative.” He met her gaze, then glanced at Brea sleeping in the cradle. “There’s something I haven’t told you. I guess now I can’t put it off any longer.”

  Her hands rested at his waist and she rubbed her palms over his warm skin. “Tell me.”

  “As I said, I needed an heir because I can’t reproduce, being of mixed blood. My human father was King Gordia.” He fell silent, waiting for her to understand the import of that.

  It took a moment for Gwyneth’s numb mind to make the connection. “King Gordia, Midas’s father? You are Midas’s half-brother.” Her mind whirled at the concept.

  He nodded. “My name is imbued with summoning power, which is why I never share it. But somehow Midas discovered it and called me to him just now.”

  Gwyneth’s stomach clenched as she tried to sort through what this meant. “Does it give him control over you? Do you have to do his bidding?”

  Ragnorak paused before answering. “Something like that. We’ve made an arrangement at any rate. I will return you and Brea to him, but he will divorce you so you might live your life the way you choose—at last, no husband or father controlling you.”

  He smiled slightly as he waited for her gratitude.

  “You will ‘return us’ just like that, like property or possessions you’ve tired of and want to give away?” Hurt was followed quickly by anger bubbling up inside her. Here he was, offering her the gift of freedom but treating her once more like an object to be manipulated and moved as every man in her life had done.

  “You’re not pleased?” His smile weakened at the corners.

  “You didn’t ask me. You told me this and expected me to be ecstatic.” She took her
hands from his waist and folded her arms over her chest.

  “It’s what you wanted. For Brea’s health and yours, you can’t live underground, and you said you didn’t want to return to Midas.” His smile was long gone and a frown furrowed his brow.

  “I don’t. But I also don’t want you to decide for me.”

  The frown became a scowl and he looked nearly as formidable as when he was dressed in black. “There’s no decision to be made. This is best for you and the child, and an agreement has been made. You will go to the topside world where you belong.”

  She wanted to continue to argue, to refuse to go and remind him they’d exchanged words of love not so very long ago. But she also knew he was right about the long term effects of living underground. This world was not hers or Brea’s. Torn by the impossible situation, she sought some solution, but Ragnorak didn’t give her a chance to think of one.

  “The deal’s been struck. You’re leaving now. Take the child in your arms so I might send you back.” His voice was as hard as granite. He picked up his discarded shirt from the floor and put it on, then shoved his legs into trousers and boots.

  Gwyneth spoke not a word as she lifted Brea from the cradle and held her close. Her world was spinning and he hadn’t even sent her through the vortex yet. Her desire for her daughter’s freedom warred with her own wish to remain bound by love. On her own, she would live the rest of her life in this underworld, sacrificing sun, sky and fresh air to remain with her lover, but she had Brea to consider. And right now Ragnorak was so cold he felt like a stranger again—one who was pushing her away with his rigid, distant demeanor.

  He stood before her now, fully clothed in black once more, and spoke in a coolly polite voice. “I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused you. I want you to know I’ve enjoyed your company. I’ll miss you and Brea, but this is for the best, as I’m certain you’ll agree.”

  Before she could respond, reach out to him or even formulate a thought, he was gone—or actually she was, rushing through space. He hadn’t even taken her hand. She didn’t know he could do his magic without leading her through the space he made between the worlds.