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Well.
Far be it for Brigid to disobey a direct command from her dragon prince.
She did exactly that. Took him as deep into her mouth, and then her throat, as she could.
Heavens! The explosion of his taste upon her tongue. The most addictive nectar she’d ever had; the most intoxicating musk that enflamed her senses.
She spent the next half hour giving back what he’d given her. Driving him mad with ecstasy just as he did her.
Until he released his cream inside her mouth over and over again. And she voraciously devoured every drop.
And finally, a few loud knocks sounded upon their door, Annie’s voice muffled through the sturdy wood.
“Time to go, guys!” she called out.
“We have a lot of road to cover!”
With the utmost reluctance, they finally separated to don their own clothes, for fear that if they tried to help each other, their wayward fingers and mouths would be more hindrance instead.
When Sai and Ben mounted their steeds, and Annie and Brigid got into the carriage, Annie shot a sly, knowing smile her way.
“Here,” she said, heaping a thick blanket onto Brigid’s lap.
“Why don’t you lie down and take a nap. You look like you could use it.”
Brigid didn’t argue, thankful for her friend’s thoughtfulness.
What Annie didn’t know was that, as Brigid’s body relaxed and recuperated in much-needed sleep, her unconscious mind was busy at work—
Now that she knew what having Sai looked, felt and tasted like, she could have him all the time.
In waking life, as well as dreams.
~ * ~* ~ *~ * ~* ~ *~ * ~
Six days and nights later, they arrived in Edinburgh as planned.
Six days when Sai barely paid attention to his fellow rider, Ben, as the young man spoke about his world in modern times.
It was hard to pay attention when Brigid kept pulling him into her daydreams as she rested her body in the carriage.
He, however, had no such luxury. He could barely stay on his horse with the way she enflamed his unconscious mind, conjuring visions of their writhing, sweaty, entangled bodies.
Of her having him in new ways, all ways, every second of the day.
These were her dreams, and she was the master, though she allowed his dream self to be an active participant. And he was, when he could afford to be. When he wasn’t in danger of toppling off his horse in real life.
His Titania was insatiable for their joining.
Of minds, hearts and souls.
And when night came, for six whole nights, she used his body well. So well, every muscle was sore and enervated, yet filled with a strength he never knew he possessed, come morning. So well, she knew his body better than he did, and he knew the same of hers.
So well, with just a glance during daytime, in between her string of naps, when their eyes collided like magnets, their bodies would immediately thrum for one another, lean toward each other, their arms and hands automatically reaching.
He was addicted to her; there was no other word to describe it. And she was addicted to him.
But it went far beyond the analogy of a simple drug-induced obsession. It was a soul-deep connection that couldn’t be denied.
