Wildest Dreams (Page 100)
Wildest Dreams (Fantasyland #1)(100)
Author: Kristen Ashley
I stared at the door after he’d gone. Then I put the ribbon in my book, closed it and set it on the table before I bent my neck, lifted both hands to my face and pressed my fingertips into my forehead.
“Finnie?” Frey called and I dropped my hands and looked to the door to see my husband striding toward me. “Gods, love, what on –?”
“I want,” I started, my voice trembling, “you to take,” I paused in order to gain control, “me to that woman,” I paused again to suck in a breath, “so I can tear her f**king hair out at the roots.”
Frey had made it to me and stood by the chair looking down at me.
“What woman?” he asked quietly.
“Skylar’s mother,” I hissed.
He studied me for a moment then I found myself plucked out of the chair only to be settled in his lap when he sat in it.
His arms wrapped around me as I tipped my head to look at him and put my hands on his chest.
“I’m being very serious, Frey,” I whispered.
“I know you are, wee one,” Frey whispered back, watching me closely and one of his hands started stroking my back.
“He just opened up to me,” I informed him.
“I guessed that,” Frey muttered, still watching me.
“I’m angry,” I announced.
“I guessed that too,” Frey replied.
I glared at him then suddenly my eyes filled with stupid, stupid tears and about a nanosecond later my face was in Frey’s neck because he tucked it there and his arms were tight around me.
“I… I don’t like kah, kah… crying,” I cried into his neck.
I heard his sigh and felt his chest rise and fall with it before he murmured, “My wee Finnie has had a trying day.”
He had that right.
I pulled in a deep, shuddering breath that fortunately controlled my tears but I didn’t move my face from his neck. Instead, I lay cradled in Frey’s lap, held in his arms and I let his strength envelope me.
When I had myself together, I informed him, “Baldur, by the way, is a jerk,”
“This I know,” Frey muttered.
I pulled in another breath then lifted my hand to wipe my face and pulled up to look at him.
“Sorry,” I whispered and Frey grinned.
Then he said softly, “I prefer your smiles and laughter, wife, but there are far worse things than your tears wetting my skin.”
I stared at his handsome, bearded face thinking, God, I really, freaking love this man.
Then I smiled at him, slid a hand up to curl around his neck, leaned in close and decided a change of subject was in order therefore I asked, “Any chance you’ll tell me why Kell was all fired up not to let Baldur’s men board your ship?”
Frey’s lips twitched and he hesitated only a moment before he answered, “While we were rescuing the sorceress Circe, some of the men might have nicked a few things that it’s highly likely were important enough for some to notice are missing and want them back badly and some of those things might still be aboard The Finnie.”
I felt my lips twitch too then I asked, “What’s this spirit Kell’s talking about?”
Frey lifted a hand to my temple and trailed it along my hairline as he tucked the hair back behind my ear before pushing a mass of it that was at my neck over my shoulder before his eyes left the movements of his hand and came back to me.
Then he answered, “I told him you have the spirit of the sea, the spirit of a Raider. I told him you’re a Voyager like him and like me. The Voyager doesn’t settle, his feet itch to move, be it on ship, on land, in stirrups. The Voyager acts fast and thinks faster. He has courage. He doesn’t wait to face the risks that come his way, instead, he rushes to greet them.” He paused and his eyes held mine before he finished softly, “Before, Kell didn’t believe me but, today, he believes me.”
Oh my God.
Oh my God.
I felt tears well in my eyes as warmth swelled in my heart.
Then I accused, “You’re going to make me cry again.”
Frey grinned and noted, “Finnie, I think I may not have made this clear but this does not bother me.”
“I bet a Voyager doesn’t burst into tears at the drop of a hat,” I returned in between deep breaths I was taking to control my emotion.
“I wouldn’t know, wee one, I’ve never met a beautiful one with white-blonde hair and soft curves. But I’m learning those kind do a lot of things differently.”
His words made me laugh softly and the tears melted away then I slid my arms around his neck and pressed close to whisper the God’s honest truth in his ear, “I’m pleased you’re home, husband.”
His arms gave me a squeeze and in my ear he asked, “How pleased?”
I held on tighter and answered with feeling, “Very.”
His hand drifted up my back to curl around my neck and he replied, “If this is so, wee wife, right now, I wish you to show me how much.”
I lifted my head and looked down at him to see his beautiful green-brown eyes had changed in a way I liked a whole lot.
“Okay,” I breathed, he smiled his wicked smile then he got out of the chair, taking me with him and he carried me to the divan where I did not delay in setting about showing him just how happy I was he was back.
Suffice it to say I was super happy and suffice it to say I took great pains to convince Frey of that fact.
And I was even more pleased to note my efforts succeeded.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Fire and Blood
Two months later…
“Frey,” Finnie breathed into his mouth and gods, gods, every time she said his name like that, from the very first time she did it when he felt the unreal softness of her hair in his loft in his cabin, Frey Drakkar felt the whisper of his wife’s voice saying his name right in his cock.
Then she gave him her neck as her head arched back, her fingers fisted in his hair, her other arm clutched him tight and she rammed herself down on his shaft as she cl**axed.
Frey spun her to her back, her long hair splashed across their bed, her four limbs held tight even as she continued gasping through her orgasm and his h*ps pumped between her legs.
He fought the cl**ax that threatened to explode so he could take in her beautiful face awash with pleasure, the vision of her hair all over the sheets, the feel of her arms and legs gripping him tight, the brilliant torture of her sex spasming around his driving c**k then he couldn’t fight it anymore and through five, deep, hard strokes he poured his seed inside his wife.