Authors: Nancy Corrigan
“Harder, Rune. Fuck me. Take me.”
“I’ll take you however I want.”
“But I want—”
He nipped at her lower lip, stopping her words. She squeaked at the sharp sting. He licked her tender flesh before the pain ruined the moment, and the swipe of his tongue over the tiny wound tore a low groan from his throat and a sigh from hers.
With his cock lodged deep, he dropped his head to her shoulder and breathed heavily. “Cat, you tempt me. So very much.”
The stark desire in his voice left her shaky inside and so very pleased. “I’m…I’m glad.”
“As am I.”
He caught her earlobe and gave it a small tug. Her eyes rolled back in her head. She hooked her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. The move opened her to him. He slid farther into her body, impossibly deep. For a moment, she wondered if he could touch her soul. A crazy thought. It left her swooning at the romanticism, though. That wasn’t like her, but it didn’t scare her. It should have. Maybe it would later. She didn’t want to question the why at the moment. They felt too right together.
He propped on his elbows and held her gaze. “I’m going to come inside you. Are you sure you want that?”
His words left her panting with need. She nodded. “Yes. I want that.”
His grin stopped her heart.
Gorgeous.
The man wore rugged beauty better than anyone she’d ever met. If she let him, he could capture her heart.
Can’t let him. He’ll rip it out when I leave.
He brushed his thumb along her jaw and redirected her attention to him. Desire slackened his features. “Focus on me, not whatever has put that look on your face. Understand?”
The low, gravelly drawl to his order calmed her. She relaxed, the tension draining from her limbs, and answered him with another nod. In the face of his intense expression, words seemed beyond her reach.
He sat back on bent thighs. His penis slipped free. She would’ve complained about the loss, but he lifted her legs against his chest. With his arms wrapped around her calves, he drove into her on a hard plunge. She gasped at the snugness of his cock in her core.
“Good.” He rolled his hips, working his length into her, stretching her until she felt impossibly full. The head of his erection touched the mouth of her womb. “So good.”
Her breath escaped in a rush. “Yes, I want to feel more.”
She tried to move. He slid a hand down her thigh and pressed firmly against her lower belly. “Soon, angel. I want to savor you.”
She glanced from where his fingers were splayed over her hip to his face. Shadows obscured her view of him. She wanted to see if the expression on his face matched his words. The gentle caress of his thumb to her skin suggested it probably did. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do with the knowledge. Their quick roll in the sack wasn’t turning out to be the sexual encounter she’d expected.
Rune was making love to her.
She felt his reverence in every touch. Impossible. The man just met me, and he’s not stupid. Despite his sweet words, he can’t actually believe this is anything more than sex. Could he?
“Rune, you know this is only sex. Nothing more, right?”
He pressed his thumb to her clit. Bolts of pure pleasure whipped straight to her womb. Her inner muscles clenched. He rubbed the bundle of nerves and built the sensation.
“It is more. It’s everything.”
With that declaration, he flicked the hard button at the same time as he thrust deep. The orgasm she’d been chasing crashed over her. She opened her mouth to scream. Only a gasp escaped. Her release washed through her in rolling waves. He kept up the movement of his finger, directing her to ride the edge for longer than she’d thought possible. It was heaven on earth, exactly how she’d envisioned. Her heartbeat reverberated in her ears, her clit, her very soul. She floated on a sea of pleasure for an endless moment before slamming back into her body.
He eased the pressure on her clit and moved. The glide of his cock spread tingles through her body.
“Perfect, Cat. You’re perfect.”
The praise deserved a response. He didn’t give her a chance to catch her breath, let alone speak. He fucked her. Each forward thrust came quicker and harder than the last. Her body shook with the slap of his groin to her drenched lips. The raw sounds of sex filled her ears, and the smacks of flesh on flesh tore a gasp from her throat. He reignited the passion she’d thought he’d sated with her release. It came stronger than before.
Everywhere they touched, she burned. She hovered between pleasure and pain and couldn’t grasp the reason. He wasn’t hurting her. Far from it. Another orgasm built within her. She rode the edge of it. The tightening of her muscles promised it would be more powerful than the last.
“Rune.” She squirmed. “I—”
He kissed her inner ankle. “You need to come, don’t you?”
Yes, that was why. Every inch of her body readied for the release he’d give her. She needed it. “Please.”
He tightened his hold on her legs and dropped a hand over her belly. He held her immobile and drove into her. Once, twice then slammed deep. He grunted and took them both over the peak.
His name fell from her lips on a gasp.
Hers echoed around them. The heaven on earth he’d dropped her into a few moments ago paled in comparison to the sensations gripping her. She fell into a place where passion ruled. No sound. No light. Only Rune’s strong arms stopped her from floating away.
Finally, the world returned. Rough pants heaved her chest and his. She glanced into his face. He met her gaze and grinned.
One look, and she realized he’d screwed her in more ways than one.
He had accomplished what she’d considered impossible. For the first time in her life, she craved something other than work.
She wanted Rune.
He dragged his cock free and collapsed on the mattress next to her. She scrambled to the edge. He caught her around her middle and pulled her against his body.
“Let me go, Rune.” She pushed on the arm locked under her breasts. “I need to clean up.”
He pressed his lips to her neck. “No. You don’t. Not yet.”
“
Yes.
I do.” She glared at him over her shoulder. “I have to get back to work.”
“The power’s out.” He draped a leg over her hips and curled his body around hers. “We should stay in bed and share our body heat until it comes on.”
“When do you think that’ll be?”
He tensed.
“No clue.”
She nibbled her lip. It did feel good to snuggle in his arms, which was exactly the reason she couldn’t. Three days. That was the most they would have together. She had to keep her perspective about the situation. If he kept touching her, she feared he’d capture her heart. She refused to accept he already had.
The romantic thoughts she’d had a few moments ago didn’t amount to more the post-sex afterglow. He’d worked her body better than any other man had. It made perfect sense she would associate the response to something other than lust. Well, the orgasms were over. Reality had returned.
And Rune has no place in my life.
She wiggled to get out from under his big body. He didn’t budge. She’d have better luck moving a mountain. “Come on, Rune. Let go. I’ll bundle up in some of your extra clothes.”
“Mmmm.” He nibbled on the length on her throat. “I like the idea of you wearing my clothes.”
So did she. She shook her head to get the domestic thought she had no business thinking out before it took root. “For warmth, not because I’m your girlfriend or anything.”
“For warmth, you have my body.” He breathed the words against her neck. The brush of his lips spread tingles across her skin. “And we’ll discuss what you are to me tomorrow.”
“I’m a client you fucked. That’s it.”
He made a noncommittal sound and continued to nip over her wildly beating vein.
She bit the inside of her cheek and did her best to ignore the desire his teasing licks rekindled. “I’m serious, Rune. I live in a different country, for God’s sake.”
He sighed. His breath heated her skin and pebbled her nipples. “Cat?”
She rolled in his embrace and faced him. Big mistake. His eyes ensnared, lured and intrigued her. She splayed her fingers on his chest to stop herself from tugging him on top of her. “Yeah?”
He slid his hands along her back. One palm he settled over her bottom. The other he slipped into her hair to cradle her head. He used the grip to hold her steady while he bent closer. Lips a hairbreadth away from hers, he shared air with her, the only way she could describe the intimate caress of their mouths.
For a long moment, he didn’t move or speak. Finally, he eased back and caught her gaze. “Stop talking, angel. Give yourself a few hours without worrying about anything. Enjoy this moment. It’ll never happen again.”
He pressed a kiss to her forehead and yanked her against his chest. She settled into his embrace. His words bounced around her head. She couldn’t decide if she was happy he acknowledged their short fling or sad that he didn’t plan on fucking her again. They did have three days. She ground her jaw.
Stop, Cat. You’re contradicting yourself exactly as you did earlier.
She knew it, but the knowledge did stop the wave of sadness. She shrugged it away. Like all her other lovers, Rune would be simply a memory soon. All except Sam. The meaningless couplings they shared were the only ones that fit into her life. Hell, when she looked at it that way, Sam fit her to a tee. Maybe she should consider a relationship with him.
And maybe pigs will fly. He’d laugh his ass off if I suggested such a thing.
She snorted and snuggled against Rune’s chest. She knew better than to let thoughts of love invade her mind. Work was the only thing she’d grow old with. Love took too much effort.
Rune propped on his elbow and let his gaze roam over his consort. Pale skin, shiny black hair and a figure he literally drooled over. His dick twitched. He hungered for her—body and blood. The sex they’d shared had barely taken the edge off.
He sighed and buried his face in the fall of her raven locks. The fruity, exotic scent that had lured him to her filled his lungs. He took deep lungfuls of her personal fragrance, let it seep into him and came to terms with his fate. The role he’d been handed when he was ordered to mate Malin rested upon his shoulders once more. He was to be a breeder.
Out of all the Wardens, why him?
He shoved the question away. The answer meant little to the situation. He could not fight the force that directed the universe and every living creature in it. He simply had to figure out a way to be both breeder and warrior. Neither role could be abandoned. Times had changed. So too would the children of the mist.
He just didn’t know how he’d accomplish the feat when he couldn’t be separated from his fragile consort, the one who would soon hold his very life in her hands. Put that way, it seemed an impossible goal. His cousins and brothers who’d thought their women would be fine for a couple of hours while they took up the sword had paid the ultimate price. They’d proved it wouldn’t work, yet Rune knew he had to find a way. The
eldjötnar
outnumbered them ten to one, and the world’s decline wouldn’t wait for him and Cat to birth a new generation of warriors.
Rune pushed the unsettling thoughts aside. It was out of his hands. He pressed his lips to Cat’s delicate throat and allowed the other concerns riding him to surface. Those all centered on the female asleep in his arms.
The temptation to wake her with his cock or tongue in her sex grew by the moment. He resisted. She needed sleep, and he had to speak with Jaron. No matter how Rune looked at it, the hard truth was that if the children of the mist were changing, so too were the fire demons. Not knowing what abilities they’d awoken with worried him. The Wardens couldn’t battle the destructive species without understanding what they faced.
Rune also had to warn his brethren about the powerful mating urge he’d succumbed to before they too landed themselves consorts. Many would resent the role. It was hard not to when you relied on another being for nourishment.
He studied Cat’s profile. Did he dislike the idea? He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She sighed, and a small smile formed on her face. He rested his fingertips against her jaw. It shamed him to admit it, but part of him did. The elders had selected his last mate. Evolutionary drives and the
eldjötnar’s
presence forced him to choose Cat. If he was meant to breed, shouldn’t he have the right to make his own selection?
But I have. I pulled her into my arms, kissed her and asked her to be the source of my life.
He mapped her face with his fingertips. She called to him on a primal level he didn’t have the strength to resist. It was that part of his psyche that would fight to keep her and the one he had to embrace. Regret would destroy them both.
He eased out of Cat’s embrace and slipped from the bed. She stretched a hand out as if searching for him. He grinned. She’d done the same yesterday in the tavern, clutching his shirt when he tried to get up. Although tempted to climb back in bed with her, he couldn’t. There were necessities that required his attention, but he couldn’t resist the lure of her completely. He skimmed his forefinger over her knuckles, and a contented sigh fell from her lips.
The woman did crazy things to him, mind and body.
He grabbed the quilt off the floor where it had fallen and draped it over her nakedness. She didn’t shiver, but her breath fogged the chilly air. Worried she’d get cold soon without him holding her, he retrieved three more throws and covered her small frame. Only her pale face showed from under the mound of blankets.
Assured of her comfort, he yanked on his jeans and left the chilly room only to enter into a frozen wonderland.
Ice covered everything in the main section of the house. He stared at the impossible sight for a long moment. A whoosh of wind swept into the room, though no windows stood open. Mist followed. It seeped from around the windows, under the door and trickled from behind the plastic outlet covers. Everywhere a draft could occur, the element belonging to the Wardens entered his home.
The living fog, pure white and sparkling with frozen water particles, swirled around him. The loving caress it offered eased some of the anxiety he felt at seeing its handiwork.
He wished he could communicate with the force that had birthed his species, but it was impossible. The mist simply was. It had no form, no personality, no soul. It could be horrible and raw in its purest form, yet for its children it would conform to whatever they desired.
Rune had not asked for his home to be turned into an ice cave.
His gaze drifted to the bedroom door. Had Cat?
The memory of the mist seeping into her skin returned. At the time, he hadn’t understood what it meant, nor had he worried about it. The urge to join their bodies had been too powerful to dismiss.
He replayed the scene. What he’d witnessed had never been described before. For all he knew, he might’ve willed the element into her. Or not. That was the problem. He had no answers. Unless he wanted to risk the wrath of the fickle gods by waking them to ask for their guidance, he was clueless.
Arms stretched out to his sides, he gathered the mist. It whirled around him, faster and faster, until a mini-cyclone formed. With a wave of his hand, he directed it to gather the particles that had formed the slick covering on the surfaces of his home. The temperature in the room did not rise, yet the ice melted and added to the fog. The air grew heavy with moisture. A rain cloud formed around him. Tiny streaks of lightning flashed. He held the water-laden air together, not allowing the rain to fall, and willed the haze to retreat the way it had entered.
Wisps of white rushed through the cracks. Within moments, normalcy returned. The lights flickered on, and the radiators ticked as heat rushed into them.
He dropped his arms. “Son of a bitch.”
Everything he had shorted was restored. How? He stood there another moment while the room warmed, pondering the reason.
The lightning.
The electrical energy contained within the natural phenomenon had always been his to wield. The sky and all it encircled belonged to the children of the mist. It acted as their weapons to counter the destructive forces the fire demons could control.
Rune grinned at the implications of his new ability. In a world where people relied on electricity in all aspects of their lives, he’d been gifted a powerful advantage.
He pivoted on his heel. Cat’s tiny notebook computer stood open. The screen remained black, but a blue light in the corner flashed every few seconds. He walked over to it and swiped his finger across the surface as he’d seen her do. The display brightened and the last program she’d had open showed on the monitor. He minimized it, and her email popped up.
His name in the body of the text caught his eye. He read the inquiry she’d sent and silently cursed. She doubted him. The knowledge hurt. A ridiculous response, but one he couldn’t deny. He also shouldn’t have expected anything else. Despite the intimacy they’d shared, they barely knew each other. Besides, when she’d written the email, he had just walked out on her after he’d partially stripped her and teased her with the promise of his body. Why wouldn’t she question him and his motives?
He drummed his fingertips on the plywood table. He would need to be careful around her. His consort was too smart and naturally curious. He couldn’t reveal more about his world until he knew how she’d react.
He wouldn’t lose her.
Rune turned his back on the computer and strode across the room. He needed to feed if he expected to resist the temptation of Cat’s blood.
The door flew open before he reached it. Jaron filled the opening. He still wore the white linen garb they’d donned before embracing the death-sleep. Mist whipped around him, billowing the sleeves and loose pants of the ceremonial outfit.
A growl crawled from his throat. The lights flickered, and the temperature dropped several degrees. Jaron took two steps into the room. A gust of wind swirled more white fog ahead of him.
Rune waited for him to speak. Jaron didn’t. He stood there, body tensed and hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.
Rune flicked his gaze from his brother’s white-knuckled fists to his enraged face. “What has happened?”
“They’re gone.” Jaron snarled. Fangs showed in his mouth. “All of them.”
Rune’s heart stopped, then pounded hard against his ribcage. “All the
eldjötnar
have escaped?”
“No!” Jaron closed the distance between them. He invaded Rune’s personal space, leaning so close his silvery eyes filled his vision. “The gods. They’re gone, along with our treasure troves. Asgard has been looted.”
“Impossible.” Rune cursed, but hadn’t he experienced enough in the past few days to prove the truths they’d held no longer applied to the modern world in which they’d awakened?
“Impossible?” Jaron laughed. “You mean like our world melting and releasing its worst nightmare?”
Jaron turned and took several steps toward the bedroom. Another bitter sound fell from his lips. “Nothing is impossible, and we are once again left to blindly find our way.”
The squeak of the bed warned him their loud conversation had woken Cat. Jaron froze and glanced in the direction the noise had come from.
Shit.
“There is something you must know. I—”
The bedroom door opened. Cat’s gaze zeroed in to Jaron. Her eyes widened and mouth dropped open. Although she was wrapped in the quilt from their bed, her bare shoulders and arms hinted at her naked state. Jaron swept his gaze over her. His nostrils flared. Another growl rumbled his chest. He pivoted, facing Rune, and pointed behind him.
“You took a fucking consort. Are you crazy?”