The Hob (The Gray Court 4)

by Dana Marie Bell

  Her forehead was really a five head, further elongating her face. She’d made an attempt to hide it with bangs, but it didn’t work. Her hair in her human Seeming was chocolaty brown, but Oberon was certain it would be sea green in her true form. She currently had it pulled back in a ruthlessly tight ponytail, her sharply cut bangs hitting her eyebrows.

  She had a sharp, pointed chin and quirked, full eyebrows he just knew would be firm when she argued, soft when she smiled. She wore tight jeans, low-heeled brown ankle boots and a snow-white crochet sweater that hit her mid–thigh.

  On her finger was a distinctive pearl ring Oberon recognized immediately.

  This was the missing Princess Cassandra Nerice of the Court of Atlantis, and Oberon’s future bondmate.

  For the first time since Titannia’s betrayal, Oberon’s body reacted to the sight of a woman. His cock swelled painfully, almost tenting his slacks. He’d had dreams of this woman that rivaled the most ribald actions he’d ever taken, both before and during his time with his faithless ex-wife.

  And he wanted to act out each and every one of them on her, to see if she was as limber as she looked, as daring as she seemed.

  He could not allow her to see his reaction. No woman would ever have that kind of power over him again. “I have a Blade who needs your skill, your Highness.” She winced, whether at his cool tone or her title, he knew not, nor did he care.

  He could not afford to care.

  “I might be able to help with her, as well.” Her hands were shoved deep in her pockets, so she pointed with her chin toward Michaela.

  “Is this why you returned, your Highness?” Harold’s guilty gaze darted toward Oberon. “My liege, I—”

  Oberon’s brows rose. “You knew the princess was hiding at Lord Goodfellow’s?”

  “The Child of Dunne, he…” Harold’s ruler-straight shoulders slumped. “He said it was for the good of the Court, sire.”

  Oberon shook his head. “And you didn’t think to inform me of what was going on?”

  “Do we really have time for this?” Princess Cassandra waved her hand toward Michaela. “The longer you delay, the more likely it is you won’t be able to bring her back. Her soul will be beyond even your grasp.”

  “You are aware of what I’m going to attempt?” How was that possible?

  She shrugged. “You’re going to do something or you wouldn’t be carrying her the way you are.”

  “And how is that?”

  She looked at him out of those huge, intelligent eyes. “Like she’s precious.”

  Oberon nodded once. “Indeed. Now, if you would, take care of my Blade. I have much work to do if my plan is to succeed.” He didn’t, but the less she knew the better. What he would do was simplicity itself. It would strengthen Michaela, make her one of them, and bleed Oberon damn near dry.

  It would render him vulnerable, and for that reason more than any other he had to keep the princess away from him.

  “Yes, sire.” Princess Cassandra bowed perfectly, turned on her heel, and took Kael’s arm. “Follow me, please.”

  Oberon couldn’t help it. He watched the princess lead his Blade away. The urge to follow was so strong he actually took a step in their direction, ready to follow her like a puppy. He shook his head, hoping to clear her from his thoughts, and looked at the body in his arms.

  Princess Cassandra was right on one point. He did not have much time.

  Where was she?

  Where the fuck was she?

  He tore through the Gray Palace, a mist of pure vengeance. Someone had taken his truebond.

  Someone had stolen her from him.

  “Hobgoblin.”

  There. That voice. He recognized it. That was the one who had stolen his truebond, who’d taken away his chance to carry her to the abyss with him.

  With a roar he charged the silver-haired man, ready to rip and tear and destroy.

  “Calm yourself, Hobgoblin.”

  That voice was able to reach him, the part that had once been civilized. He remembered that, along with laughing brown eyes and an earth-shattering trust.

  “Robin.”

  Robin. Yes. That had been his name.

  “You need to stop, Robin.”

  He shuddered. That voice. How could he be hearing that voice? That voice was dead, gone, oh, so precious.

  “Please, for me?”

  He turned his attention to the small female standing by the silver–haired man’s side. She should not be there. She should be by his side.

  She smiled at him, the love and trust in her gaze so easy for him to see. She stepped forward, ignoring the unvoiced protest of the silver-haired man. “I missed you, Robin.”

  “No!”

  The female held up her hand, stopping someone from coming closer to them. Robin had been aware of the person’s presence, but he had the female’s aura around him like a protective cloak. He belonged to her, but not in the way that Robin did. He was a protector, doing his job, nothing more.

  Robin shivered as the female approached. There was something different about her, but he hardly cared, because that sweet, enchanting scent surrounded him, pulled at him. He needed to be different, for her. He needed to be…

  “Come back to me, Robin.” She held out her hands and stepped into him, became one with him.

  “Gods above,” someone breathed, but Robin barely heard it. She was with him, inside him. One with him, and totally unafraid. He smoothed the jagged edges of his grief, lest they harm her. He tamed the raging anger, unwilling to shed her blood. He cradled her close, encased her in his warmth, his sheer joy of having her with him again.

  “I need you, no matter what form you take.” She stared right into his glowing eyes, her own filled with…love.

  Love.

  He remembered.

  Michaela.

  Robin’s form swirled around her, coalesced until he knelt before her, his arms around her waist, his face buried in her abdomen.

  Her hands stroked his head, pushed his wild, tangled red mane from his face. “Welcome back, love.

  Robin Goodfellow, Knight of Oberon and the most dangerous being on earth save one, sobbed like a broken child.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  He couldn’t get her naked fast enough. The urge to taste her flesh, see if she was any different now that Oberon had done what he had, was consuming him.

  He’d whisked her away with nary a word of thanks, unable to speak, only able to feel. He needed his truebond, had to reestablish his claim on her before he went mad.

  He never wanted to go through losing her again.

  “Robin.”

  The way she gasped his name as he suckled her nipple through her loose cotton shirt was music to his ears. It was music he’d believed he’d never hear again, so was doubly precious.

  He’d make her sing again, and again, and again.

  He realized he’d begun to glow when she looked up at him, her dark eyes reflecting his light back at him. He shredded her clothes from her body, his razor-sharp claws making short work of the thin cotton material Oberon had given her. She wore no bra underneath, nor panties.

  His lord knew him well.

  He sucked up a mark on her bare breast, needing some visible sign that she was alive, that she belonged to him. She tangled her hands in his hair as he kissed and sucked his way down her body. He was leaving behind visible proof of his possession of her, love bites that would slowly fade, only to be replaced as he made love to her again.

  Never again would he let her far from his side. Never again would he place her in danger.

  Robin finally reached the apex of her thighs. He nuzzled the dark curls before clasping her thighs and spreading her legs wide.

  “Robin.”

  Her whispered plea would be granted. Robin sucked her clit into his mouth, his tongue working the nub of flesh until she was squirming greedily beneath him. Her hands clenched around his head as she thrust against him, chasing the ecstasy just out of her reach.


  She quivered and let out a low moan, coming apart beneath his mouth, her thighs clamping around his head as the orgasm bowled through her.

  It wasn’t enough. He needed more, needed to wring more pleasure from her.

  He got off the bed and pulled her to the edge, the tattered remains of her outfit falling away from her. He stilled when he took a moment to look at her, debauched and lying wide open to his gaze.

  Her hair, once a lush, very human brown, had turned to pure silver. The tanned skin had become pale and sparkling. Her eyes, languid with pleasure, were the color of molten gold.

  She was even more beautiful than he’d thought possible.

  He bent and took one golden nipple into his mouth. Her taste, her texture, it hadn’t truly changed, just…brightened, sharpened to that of a true fae.

  His urgency was abated somewhat by this sign that his wife was truly immortal now, that very little could cause her body to fail her as it had before. She was a true child of the fae now, her latent blood brought to the surface by the power of Oberon.

  She was Tuatha Dè Danaan.

  This time, when he kissed her sex, he made sure to love on her. He took his time, licking and stroking slowly, stoking her fires, enjoying the way she squirmed. He watched her pluck at her nipples, made note of the way she soothed the small hurt. He stroked her skin, memorizing once more the smooth feel of it beneath his palms, the way she warmed at his touch.

  When her orgasm rolled through her this time it took him by surprise. Her face exquisite in its glory, highlighted by the shining silver tangle of her hair.

  She laughed when it was over, her voice husky with pleasure. “Do that again.”

  So he did, basking in her joy, reveling in her touch as she reached for him, finally, and pulled him to her. He’d long since done away with his own clothes, a mere thought making them disappear, so he slid into her without any obstruction.

  She was smooth, hot, wet and wonderful around him, stretching to take him inside. Take him home.

  He bottomed out inside her, his balls grazing her ass, and groaned. This, this was what he’d needed, to be inside her, a part of her. Robin grabbed hold of her hips and held her still as he ground against her, rotating his own hips in an attempt to feel all of her.

  “Robin.”

  He hadn’t realized he’d closed his eyes until he opened them at her soft cry. Her heels were on the edge of the mattress, her thighs spread wide to accommodate him. She’d taken hold of the edge of the bed, her knuckles white from the force of her grip. His hair was like a living flame against the paleness of her flesh, brushing against her knees as he began to fuck her.

  Her choked, whimpering cry was yet another note in the song she sang for him.

  Her thighs quivered as he fucked her, her body quaking, trying to hold the position. But Robin’s satin sheets were too slick. She slid, almost dislodging him from her body.

  “Hold.” Robin gently pulled her leg toward him, kissed the ankle, and placed it on his shoulder. He repeated the action with her other leg, then wrapped his hands around her thighs. He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Now. Let’s try that again.”

  She giggled, and the sun shone down on him once more. “Wait.”

  Robin paused just as he was about to begin fucking her once more.

  She scooted back, sliding off his cock. This time, it was his turn to whimper.

  She giggled again and crooked her finger at him. “C’mere, big guy.”

  Robin crawled up the bed toward her. For once he didn’t care about appearance; he merely wanted to be inside her once more. On his hands and knees he crawled until he hovered over her, stealing a kiss.

  She reached up and stroked his cheek. “Hi.”

  He shuddered under her touch, the hunger to claim her and the sheer, unadulterated relief that she was alive, whole, clashed inside him. “Hi.”

  “Make love to me.”

  “Always.”

  She wrapped her legs around his waist and Robin slid home. He couldn’t seem to pull far away from her tempting mouth, demanding kiss after kiss as he stroked into her. This time, unlike their first frantic coupling when his power had nearly shattered them both, it was a gentle balm, covering them in a glowing blanket.

  Michaela’s eyes shimmered, sparkled with a matching golden light. He could feel that gentle, warm light touch him deep inside, waiting, asking for entry.

  The base of his spine tingled, his cock swelling inside her. He was close, so close from a gentle lovemaking he’d never known the likes of before.

  Michaela licked her lips, her breath coming in pants. “Now?”

  He stole one last, wet kiss before staring into her eyes. “Now.”

  Michaela’s eyes went wide as her back arched off the bed. Her legs clamped around him like a vise, her pussy clenching around him, nearly strangling him.

  And her eyes, those glowing, golden eyes, became the center of his world.

  Robin came with a shattered cry, pouring himself into his truebond everything that he was, taking in everything she offered as she claimed him as only a Tuatha Dè could.

  They were one.

  Michaela stood shivering outside the quaint farmhouse. It was an old Victorian, with white gingerbread accents and a wide front porch. It was a soothing pale blue color, the trim a blinding white. A huge wrap-around porch with a real porch swing gave the old Victorian a homey feel. The landscape around the house was filled with blooming flowers.

  The screen door squeaked open, and out stepped a walking jeans commercial. The dark-haired man sauntered onto the front porch and leaned against the post, shooting a roguish smile at Robin. “Well, well. What have we here?”

  Robin chuckled quietly beside her. He took her hand and led her up to the blue–eyed hottie. “Sean Dunne, I’d like you to meet my truebond, Michaela.” Michaela noticed the startled delight on the man’s face. “Michaela, this is Moira’s father, Sean Dunne.”

  “Pleased to—” Father? This hunka-hunka was Moira’s dad?

  A soft giggle had her looking to the man’s right. “I had the same reaction.” A short woman with dark reddish hair was coming around the corner of the porch, a huge grin on her face. “Robin!”

  “Ruby.”

  The woman ran down the steps and flung herself into Robin’s arms. “It’s so good to see you again.” She hugged Robin tight before turning to Michaela. “Is she…?”

  “My truebond, Michaela. My dear, this is my very good friend, Ruby Dunne.”

  Michaela relaxed. She hadn’t even realized she’d tensed up until she heard the difference in the way Robin spoke to Ruby versus the way he spoke to Michaela. With Ruby, there was affection, and an obvious history. But Michaela was tucked under his arm, his possessiveness obvious. There was a softness when he spoke to her, a pure and utter joy that was absent when he spoke to Ruby. “Pleased to meet you.”

  “You too.” Michaela found herself enveloped much the way Robin had been. “I’ve been praying Robin would find his truebond.”

  “We all have.” Sean Dunne came down the steps and gave her his own hug, pulling her gently from Robin’s hold. Robin let her go without a word of protest. “Welcome to the family.”

  “We have much to discuss, if it pleases you.” Robin walked up the front steps as if he belonged here, and from the way the Dunnes were reacting, he did.

  Sean tucked Michaela under one arm and Ruby under the other and followed after Robin. “I gather it’s good news for once?”

  “Ruby? Where did you go?” A tall man who looked remarkably like Sean but with sparkling green eyes the color of grass came out of the house. He smiled when he saw Ruby. “There you are. I should have known you’d home in on Robin.”

  Ruby giggled and slipped away from Sean, crossing to the green-eyed man’s side. The way she curled herself into him told Michaela all she needed to know.

  He nodded respectfully to Robin. “Robin.”

  “Leo. I’ve brought my truebond to meet you
all. Michaela, this is Leo Dunne, the eldest Dunne child.”

  She blinked. This was Moira’s brother? Geez, did anyone in this family get touched with the ugly stick? Was it even waved in their direction?

  The delight on Leo’s face was open, easy. He, like everyone else in the Dunne clan, seemed to hold Robin in great affection. “Really? Congratulations!” He held out his hand and shook Michaela’s. “Welcome to the Dunne farm.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Sean? Leo?” The screen door opened once more, and there stood the most amazingly attractive woman she’d ever seen. She wasn’t much taller or older than Michaela. The woman’s hair fell to her waist, a straight, shining curtain of glowing red-gold. Slightly tilted green eyes the color of emeralds peeked out from under the longest, most lush lashes Michaela had ever seen. Her chin was delicately pointed, her nose fine and aristocratic, her lips full and pink. She could have graced many a magazine cover.

  Michaela looked over at Leo and shook her head. “Let me guess. Your mother.”

  Leo laughed. “Yup.”

  “Oh, yeah. You and I are going to get along fine.” Ruby winked as Sean left her to go to the petite beauty. The way Sean looked at her left no doubt in her mind that Sean and Aileen Dunne were just as truebonded as she was to Robin.

  “You too?” Michaela tried to hide her grin.

  Ruby nodded. “Yup. I had pretty much the same reaction when I first saw my in-laws. I felt like a potato in a flower garden. You know, like ‘What the hell am I doing here?’”

  Leo kissed the top of Ruby’s head. “You’re a rose in a field of wildflowers.”

  Ruby blushed and buried her face in Leo’s chest, much to his obvious satisfaction.

  Robin walked over to Aileen and lifted her hand to his lips. “You are looking particularly fine this morning, Aileen.”

  Sean reached over and removed his wife’s hand from Robin’s grasp. “Why don’t you introduce your truebond, Robin?”

  Robin, a wicked grin on his face, waved Michaela over. “This is she. Michaela, my dear, I’d like you to meet Lady Aileen Dunne, the matriarch of the Dunne clan and a lady far more fearsome than I.”