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“Tonight,” he grumbled between bites as if surrendering her to this Nivira were the last thing he wanted to do.
Sweet. He was definitely far too sweet. That was bound to threaten her heart at some point if she wasn’t careful, and the dryad’s words of the fae inability to love like a human twisted in her gut like a sharp knife. She tried to not show it, keeping her face blank and a pleasant smile on her lips as they ate but Raskyuil watched her, and she had a feeling that he didn’t miss much.
ChapterTwenty
His mate was distressed about something, though she tried in vain to hide it. She had not yet discovered that little got past him. Raskyuil eyed her as they ate and then made quick work of cleaning up their mess, insisting that she remain where she was and continue to rest while he prepared some tea. He needed the distraction. Seeing her sitting on his bed, warm and rumpled from her long sleep… So inviting. For a moment he’d been tempted to press his little mate back into the bed and abandon his food for a far better meal.
He shuddered as he bent over the teapot, filling the infuser with the loose leaves of tea and herbs that he painstakingly blended. The herbs were commonly found growing everywhere and yet, when combined in the proper amounts, created a tea for which trolls were well known, the secrets of which were passed down through bloodlines. Every family had their own recipe, new generations often adjusting little things. His was perhaps one of the best to come out of the Bruma Woods where he was born and reared. Or at least he flattered himself to think so. The lucumo had always been incredibly fond of it. So much so that before leaving, Raskyuil had taken a young guard aside and instructed him on the way to make it. He never thought he would have the pleasure of making it for another again.
Fate and the gods had a way of surprising even an old troll, it seemed.
His lust certainly did. It had not stirred in such a way since he had reached adulthood and discovered the pleasure of what he could do with it until his interest in meaningless rutting had waned. Once every hundred years or so his need swelled within him, and he would take care of it with a willing nymph eager for his seed even if it were impossible for him to breed any female other than his mate.
But now he had his mate and long quieted instincts were loudly running to the fore. Instincts to breed, shelter, pleasure, feed, and fuck were all an indistinct hum within him. Even now, crouched as he was in front of his small kitchen setup, his cock was painfully hard in his trousers, bulging so indiscreetly that he purposely kept his back turned to her so that she wasn’t frightened by the sight of it.
She was so small, but the thought of her little human cunt squeezing his cock as it plowed its way between her soft petals and drove deep, stretching her snugly around his length, made his cock jerk. A small load of precum spewed from its tip, the musk of it filling his nose even as he became aware of the rapidly cooling dampness on the material of his trousers. Grunting, he slipped a hand between his thighs, gripping his cock in a punishingly hard grasp, willing it to recede before he embarrassed himself further. But it was nearly impossible with the delicious scent of her filling his tent.
“Raskyuil?” She said his name hesitantly, and yet he loved the sound of it on her lips. “Is everything okay?”
“It is,” he rasped in agreement. “I’m just experiencing a strong… reaction at the moment.”
She fell silent, and the tips of his ears twitched in embarrassment.
Then… “Does this have anything to do with Ha’sh… uh, mating?”
He was surprised that she intuited that so quickly. He did not think he betrayed his need of her.
“Yes,” he grumbled. He wouldn’t lie. He located a pair of cups for them and set them together on the tray with the warm teapot. “It is difficult.”
“Oh,” she murmured.
“Yes, oh,” he agreed as he reluctantly turned back toward her. His cock hadn’t gone down even a little. Worse, it seemed to swell and become even more rigid as her eyes fell to it and a tiny, breathy sound escaped her.
“Does it hurt?”
“A little. It is pleasurable but also very uncomfortable. It will become more painful,” he added.
“Is there, uh… anything that can be done?” The question was posed innocently, and yet a quick glance at his mate affirmed that she was embarrassed by the question as if she already suspected the answer.
“Yes, fucking,” he replied blandly as he poured their tea. “Sugar? Honey?”
Her cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink, but her lips curled as she shook her head at him. “I can’t believe you can switch gears that fast from talking about fucking to what I want in my tea.”
“If it helps, I’m still thinking about it.” Truthfully, he wanted to growl and tear at his clothes so that he could fuck her, filling her with his cum and watch it spurt over her. It was a wildness within him that wrestled to get out. But he was not a youngling or a youth still working out what to do with his cock. He had far better self-control than that. “Now which would you like?”
“Honey, I guess.”
Nodding, he procured his tightly sealed box of honey. He had personally coated the inside with many layers of beeswax to store the precious contents inside. He smiled when her eyes lit up in reaction and found that he enjoyed watching the nuances of emotion play across her face as she slowly began to explore her new life with him.
He wanted to assure her that she would always have a full belly and plenty of honey and tea with him for her mate, but he kept his tongue still and savored the moment. Humans were skittish and didn’t like to think of forever so soon upon meeting their mate. He could be patient for a while longer still.
So he allowed himself the pleasure of simply basking in her company as they enjoyed their tea in silence, her on the bed and him on the floor across from her and close enough to touch. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, more like a living current passing between them of pleasure, warmth, and comfort. Was this Ha’shena at work, or was this just the simple pleasure of having his mate seated across from him, enjoying her company?
The cynic in him wanted to doubt it and claim that there was nothing remarkable or unique in this moment, but there was a small part of him that clung to the thought that this was special. One of many moments that he would carve out in this life with his mate. Perhaps if all went well, he would owe that interfering goddess some thanks after all. He couldn’t ignore the fact that there was a blessing in all of this even if he hadn’t always been able to see it. But first he needed to help his mate find her younglings to wipe that sorrow and desperation from her eyes whenever her thoughts turned to them.
Eventually the tea was drunk and he could delay no longer. Climbing to his feet, he rose to his full height and MaryAnne followed, flashing a charming smile as he located her clothes and handed them to her. He returned her smile, feeling ridiculously awkward for some reason which unfortunately made him gruffer than he liked as he thrust them into her arms. Her eyebrows rose, and his ears flicked uncomfortably as he turned away.
“I will be waiting outside,” he growled, feeling like all kinds of a fool as he spun toward the entrance, his tail flicking angrily behind him. “Join me when you finish. Drya tend to be patient, but Nivira is eager to meet you.”
