I clung to his narrow hips with my legs, but that made it almost impossible to pull my pants down enough for him to cup my folds with bare, calloused fingers. Somehow, he managed, and I shouted, wet from the previous, unexpected release and so sensitive. It was almost like coming again, but not quite, and then he slid a finger home, curling it just so. I shattered like ice, breaking apart and reshaping in his capable hands—remade by an artisan.
“Dragons don’t share,” Ísarr growled. I didn’t want him to; I wouldn’t share him either. His zipper was loud, matched only by my panting as I clung to him, his finger still embedded deep inside me. “Last chance to run, Elskling,” he said, as if I everwould, after I’d just sworn to him I wouldn’t. I wriggled, heels digging into his ass, the tree harsh against my back. There was no cold, no ice, no risk of frostbite, because he held all of it back, protecting me.
“Do it,” I moaned, my eyes locked on the slightly blue cock he’d freed from his pants. Thick, veined, so pretty and enticing, even shaded such an unnatural color. “Take me, Ísarr. Now.” Probably I would wonder what had possessed me later, but I highly doubted I’d regret any of this for even a minute.
Ísarr seemed to think this was the moment to pause and just take in the scenery—the scenery being me. His eyes fastened on my folds and the way the thick head of him looked as he slicked it through them. I bucked, but in his arms, pinned against a tree, there wasn’t very much I could do. “Now?” he asked, as if teasing me were suddenly far more important than keeping me at arm’s length. No, now that the wall had gone down, it had gone down, and hard.
He was hot where he touched me, the head of his cock like silk as it brushed along my clit. Pleasure burst through my veins, but it wasn’t enough—not even close. “Now, damn it,” I said, and I didn’t even notice how we’d almost done a role reversal. He was the one smiling, patient, while I was practically growling with need.
“Are you sure?” he drawled, and in response, my nails dug into the back of his neck. He hissed, and then he was the one bucking. Pressing against me, cock sliding through my folds. When he withdrew, it was to line the head up with my opening, and then he was pushing in—hard, fast, none of that dancing around now.He sank deep on the first thrust, and I ached, burned for him as he stretched me.
What followed was probably the wildest, most passionate round of sex I’d ever had—in the wilds, exposed and pinned to a tree in the most primal fashion. He pushed in and out of me with force, and each time, my nerves lit on fire and the next orgasm was that much closer. He was rough, and I loved it, didn’t even care that his fingers might leave impressions on my thighs.
He was bigger than any guy I’d ever been with, and I felt it. Stretched around him, taking him deep, touched in ways it felt like I’d never been. When my orgasm came this time, it was bright and hard, my entire body clenching tightly around him, toes curling in my boots, my body trembling, fingers slipping from his shoulders. He had me, though, not once dropping me, riding me through the waves of pleasure with the fiercest scowl on his face, jaw gritted, his blue hair caught in a cold breeze I didn’t feel.
As the last wave ebbed through my flesh, it crashed into him. He came with a roar, his head tossed back, cock kicking deep inside of me. I thought perhaps I could even feel the fierce jet of his seed as he exploded.
He held me tightly in the aftermath, hugging me between his body and the tree. His breathing was rapid—but so was mine. I felt sheltered, cherished—which, given our location, might seem odd; it was anything but romantic. But this was Ísarr, and he was all about keeping me safe at any cost. He just went about it in the most brusque, noncommunicative fashion, but I had him figured out now.
Sighing against his chest, I hugged him back just as tightly, and then I whispered the one thing I knew might convince him: “In the throes of passion, you still didn’t freeze me. You never will. In fact, you didn’t even let me get cold, not for a minute.” When he lifted his head and gazed from the tree to the snow and the chiming icicles above our heads, something settled in his pale gaze.
“You know what? I think you’re right… That means there’s no leaving my mountain, not ever.” His mouth turned up at the corners in this sinfully sexy smirk, and I felt my body respond to it, clenching around his cock, which was still lodged deep. He groaned, shifted against me, and I shivered in pleasure.
“Mountain? It’s a small hill at best,” I told him. That made him laugh, head thrown back, throat bobbing. He was beautiful, and for the first time since we’d met, he sounded truly happy.
Chapter 12
Ísarr
“We should get dressed,” Bianca murmured, her cheeks beginning to turn pink, but not from the cold. As if she’d suddenly become aware of our position, inflagrante and in a very exposed spot. Not that there was anyone there to see us; I wouldn’t let them. I wasn’t kidding when I’d said that dragons didn’t share. We were possessive bastards, every single one of us, and she was part of my hoard now.
There was still a niggle of worry at the back of my mind, fearing that perhaps she was wrong and that I would one day freeze her by accident. She was right to point out that I hadn’t, even in a moment when I was most likely to lose control. Every part of her skin still felt rosy and warm, and though ice had frozen in weird, swirling patterns around my feet, nothing had touched her.
“There’s no rush,” I told her, shifting my hips to make her aware of my cock still lodged inside her. It felt amazing—her tight heat clasping me—and I did not want to leave. She was of a different mind, though, her mouth pursing even as her body clenched around me in pleasure.
“There is if Kevin might stumble onto us. You said he was alive and headed in our direction, didn’t you?” Her hands left my shoulders to pull her shirt and sweater back down, though it was a difficult squeeze, as tightly pressed together as we currently were. A very primal part of me leaned in and pressed her more snugly against the tree. Now she was pinned against my chest, impaled on my still-hard cock, with nowhere to go. That primalpart of me very much wanted this Kevin to stumble into this clearing and see that Bianca was now, irrevocably, mine.
Her eyes flashed sapphire, dancing with heat, with that spark of rebellion. I leaned back and gently let her down instead, helping her dress with rough strokes of my hands, unable to stop touching her. “Fine, we’ll be like civilized humans. But I’ll have you know that in the old days, where I was raised, that would have been a perfectly acceptable way to dispose of a rival.” I curled my lips into a humorless smirk and then had to hold back laughter—warm and foreign—when that made her squeal indignantly.
“You, Isárr, are a caveman,” she said, jabbing her finger into my chest. I tucked myself back into my pants, giving her a look that told her how unimpressed I was with that statement. Cavemen? No, I was all dragon, and that had always been the problem. At least Bianca was smiling. Even though she tried to act offended, she liked it, and she couldn’t hide that.
Once we were both dressed properly again, I dusted off the pair of hats she’d been wearing and spent a moment carefully making sure her head and ears were covered. Her skin was so soft, so fragile, and I didn’t want her ears to get cold, not even a little. “I will bring you to the cabin and then I will fly out and fetch this Kevin for you,” I said once I was done.
She shook her head, a mutinous expression appearing on her face. “Nuh uh, I’m not letting you deal with Kevin on your own. He’s bound to say something idiotic and wind up dead.” I wasn’t sure what that said about me—or him. Did she think I killed so easily? Granted, I had fantasized about killing the man for abandoning my Bianca, my Elskling. Hmm. Perhaps she had apoint; I felt the bubbling surge of rage rear its ugly head just thinking about it.
“Fine,” I agreed, and rather than shifting into the full form of my dragon, I whisked off my coat and shirt and unfurled my wings instead. It was a neat trick, one I’d practiced to death back when I still lived in Norway with my family, before they cast me out.
When doing it, I could still hear my grandfather’s booming voice as he told me it was about subtlety, about a gentle touch, and about absolute control. The problem was that I’d always been able to do any task they set for me. And then I’d sleep, or there would be a snowstorm, and things wound up frozen anyway.
I swept Bianca into my arms and leaped skyward with a few hard downward strokes of the blue, leathery wings. She squeaked in surprise as we lifted off, clutching at my shoulders and hair with her fingers. They were cold without gloves, and I immediately sucked the coldness out of the air around them. “What, you think I’d drop you?” I asked her, laughing at the ridiculous thought. Never. I might be a failure of a dragon in many ways, according to my family, but I’d always excelled at flying.
She stuck out her tongue, all pink and wet, and my still-eager cock twitched in my pants in response. Damn it, now that I’d tasted her, there was no going back. I hungered for her the way I’d never hungered for anything or anyone. Leaning in, I kissed that teasing mouth, and she softened in my arms, losing all her tension. “Whoa, Ísarr, you really know how to treat a girl, don’t you?” she quipped when I raised my head. She was smiling, rosy, and her double pair of hats had begun to sink down over her brow and partially over one eye.
“Elskling, you’re going to be the death of me. Once, this was a quiet hill with nary a visitor, and now? Now you’ve got me hunting for a male idiotic enough to abandon a lady like you in the snow.” She was still giggling over my word choice when I picked up the pace with my wings and zeroed in on the location where I sensed the human slogging through the woods.
My sharp eyes could see him through the bare branches of the trees, walking in jerking, halting motions. I circled overhead, studying before I sought a landing spot. He did not look up, but then, prey rarely did. Not humans, and not deer. It made them easy to catch. We were not here to catch, though, I reminded myself as anger stirred. My mate—my fragile little Elskling—wanted this idiot rescued for some unfathomable reason.
“Does he always walk like that?” I asked when I realized he had nearly gone headfirst into a tree before righting his course at the last moment. Granted, he’d spent a freezing night outside; it was a miracle he was even alive. Perhaps that had affected his sense of equilibrium.
