Wildest Dreams

Chapter Twenty-One

Adela Tea

A week and a half later…

My eyes fluttered open and I saw velvet, I felt weight and warmth except on my leg which was partially exposed and wrapped around a tangle of hides and blankets.

I was in bed in Frey’s cabin and I was alone.

Then I heard papers rustling, I pulled in a soft breath and lifted up on a forearm to look toward the desk.

My handsome husband with a week and a half of beard growth (making him, arguably, more handsome) was sifting through papers on his desk.

“Hey,” I called, his head came up and his green-brown eyes came to me.

Then his face got lazy, that lazy communicated itself to a variety of places in my body, and he said not a word but straightened in his chair and shifted it slightly to the side.

He didn’t have to say a word, I knew what that meant.

I untangled myself from the covers, grabbed my long, soft wool robe that was lying across the bottom of the divan and my cashmere-socked feet hit wood floor. I pulled the robe on over my satin nightgown as I wandered across the cabin to him, tying the belt tight just as I made it to his chair. His arm hooked me around the waist and he gently guided me into his lap.

When I settled, both his arms wrapped around me, his head bent toward mine and he murmured, “I’ll take my morning kiss now, wee Finnie.”

I grinned up at him, placed my hands on the hard wall of his chest and leaned in, tipping my head back, offering him my mouth.

Then he took his morning kiss. This wasn’t the first time he got it with me in his lap in his chair behind his desk in the cabin. Other times he got it when he woke me in his bed when he was still in it. There were a few times he got it when he woke me after coming back from doing something. But there were no other times. He came to me or was with me every morning.

Every single one.

I was clutching his sweater and a bit more than mildly heated by his embrace when he lifted his head and muttered, “Will I ever tire of the taste of you?”

God, I hoped not.

Of course, I didn’t say that. Instead I grinned at him and stated, “No way. I’m yummy.”

He grinned back and his arms pulled me closer as he asked, “Yummy?”

“I’m delicious,” I explained.

His grin turned into a smile before he agreed, “That you are, my wee one.”

I leaned in deeper, lifted my hand to stroke his rough jaw and my eyes dropped to his mouth before I whispered, “You’re yummy too.”

I watched his mouth mutter, “Gods,” before it was on mine and he took another morning kiss, this one longer, deeper, wetter and lots better.

Mm. Definitely yummy.

I was clinging to him, one arm wrapped around his shoulders, the other hand in his thick hair when he tore his mouth from mine and slid his lips down my cheek to my ear where he spoke quietly.

“Sadly, I have no time to play this morning, wife. I’m to meet Thad and Kell in five minutes. We make land the day after tomorrow and from there we must make haste. This morning, we finalize plans,” his head lifted and his eyes caught mine, “but after that, I’m free. I’ll hand the wheel to Thad, meet you here and we will lock the door.”

I knew what locking the door meant. So did his men.

Awesome. Something to look forward to.

“But now, I must be away,” Frey went on. “Would you like me to tell Skylar to bring you breakfast?”

At the mention of Skylar, my good morning mood experienced a hiccup.

In the time I was on the ship, Skylar had not gotten used to me. Frey had explained this was because Skylar was the son of one of his men, a man who had unfortunately died during a mission (this, Frey assured me, probably because I sucked in every molecule of oxygen in the cabin and actually felt my face go pale, was a very rare happenstance) which meant Skylar was being raised solely by that man’s wife.

She was not a good woman, a kind one, a fair one, a patient one or, from some of the stories he relayed to me (stories that made my heart hurt), a sane one. Frey had learned that things were going badly for the boy and he’d taken him (yes, taken him, giving his mother no choice and honestly, I was glad of it) and now Skylar served Frey and would do so until he was old enough to make his own decisions.

Therefore, Skylar was gun shy with women and it was no surprise. Also, this meant Frey usually did my talking with Skylar. This was at my request, mainly because Skylar wasn’t getting used to me no matter how kind or soft-spoken I was with him and I could tell I caused him discomfort so I decided to avoid doing that by avoiding him and Frey had agreed to my request.

I wasn’t sure an abused boy should be serving on a ship with a bunch of macho men I had noted treated him like, well, a bunch of macho men and further without the kindness of a woman. What I was sure of was that, if even half the stories were true, he was better off on Frey’s ship with a bunch of brusque men than he was with his mother.

I was also sure I liked Frey even more because he went out of his way to take care of the boy. His care might not be nurturing but it couldn’t be denied it was care.

“Yes,” I nodded, answering his question, “and water to wash.”

“All right,” Frey murmured, leaned in to touch his lips to my forehead then stood, taking me with him and setting me on my feet. Then he looked down at me. “Your plans for the day?”

“Archery practice with Annar then knife work with Lund.”

He shook his head and started chuckling.

I had found my girls had packed some of Princess Sjofn’s shirts, sweaters and breeches and, being me, I tried them out. The first time I had appeared in these garments, I caused quite a stir. This stir caused Frey, standing at the helm, to look to the heavens as if seeking deliverance from his gods. But he didn’t say a word (this, I also liked).

I also heard from Annar that they’d packed my bow and arrow and they did this by giving it to him to pack with his own as it didn’t fit in my trunks. He offered to work with me and I took him up on it. While practicing with the bow one day, Lund showed and offered to teach me how to handle a knife. I took him up on that too. I thought both were important to know, considering Sjofn knew them and even though I would probably never be as good as her considering the amount of practice she had, at least it would provide some cover for I wouldn’t appear a complete amateur should spies be paying attention (and, obviously, they were).

Not to mention, I wanted to learn.

Orion had offered to teach me swordplay and I took him up on that too but found I could barely lift a sword, they were so freaking heavy. No one onboard had one I could wield so we decided to leave it at knife play until they could find a sword I could use.

So while Frey spent his days captaining his ship, planning raids and communing with his brethren (when he wasn’t locked in his cabin with me), I spent my time shooting arrows, dancing around the deck while Lund tried to stab me and playing multiple games of tuble and meerkin while all the men taught me how to cheat (when I wasn’t locked in Frey’s cabin with him, where, if Frey and I weren’t doing other highly pleasant things, Frey also spent time teaching me how to cheat).

In other words, I was having the time of my life.

“Right, wee one,” Frey spoke, his deep voice light with amusement, taking my attention back to him, “after you get finished prancing around on deck with your lovely arse on display in your tight breeches, making certain every single one of my men is lying abed in their hammocks at night with their fists wrapped around their cocks and their thoughts on your arse, then we’ll meet back here this afternoon.”

I blinked up at him and whispered, “They are not doing that.”

“They are,” Frey returned.

“No they aren’t.” I was still whispering.

“Finnie, am I a man?” Frey asked.

“Yes,” I gave the obvious answer.

“Then I know they’re doing that.”

“But,” I protested, “I’m your wife and you said they wouldn’t –”

Frey cut me off. “They won’t stare and they won’t make their interest obvious for this would cause my displeasure. But I do not control their thoughts. They see, what they see is a pleasing image that is burned behind their eyes, so they don’t forget.”

Oh God.

“Maybe I should quit wearing breeches,” I suggested but Frey grinned wickedly and dipped his face to mine.

“You do, my love, then I won’t get to watch you prance around on deck with your lovely arse on display and, fortunately, when I’m abed at night, I have a wife who gladly wraps a number of things around my cock that are far, far better than my fist.”

Hmm. This was true.

It also explained why Frey had not said a word against me wearing breeches.

And lastly, it made me warm in a variety of places.

“This is true,” I muttered and Frey threw back his head and laughed.

When he tipped it back down, he lifted his hand, wrapped it around my head and pulled me in and up for another touch of his lips on my forehead.

When he let me go, he caught my eyes and said softly, “Until later, my love.”

“Later, baby,” I said softly back.

He smiled at me and I watched him walk out of the cabin.

Then I went to my trunks, got down on my knees in front of one, opened it and started sorting through in order to decide what I was going to wear that day.

While I was at the trunks, my mind went over the last week and a half and the things I had learned.

One of them was the story of Kell, who was the salty sea dog I’d seen my first night on the ship. Back in the day, Kell had been first mate on the first ship Frey worked on. Frey had followed Kell when he’d briefly captained a vessel for a merchant and then Kell had followed Frey when he’d used the inheritance his Grandmother Eugenie left him to order his first galleon to be built and it was put to sea.

And Kell had been with Frey ever since.

Kell and Frey were tight, I could tell (though Frey also told me). It wasn’t like they did man hugs or bumped fists all the time but there was no doubt about it; that closeness was there. It ran deep and Frey had explained Kell taught him everything he knew and then when Frey struck out on his own, Frey had earned Kell’s respect because Frey lived his life in a way that he kept learning.

Luckily, Frey told me Kell hadn’t been looking at me like he wanted to throw me overboard that first night because he was mentally plotting my murder. Unluckily, Frey told me Kell was looking at me like he wanted to throw me overboard because he did not (at all) like women on board ships and further thought they served one purpose and one purpose only and therefore, although he’d known his fair share of them, all of them practiced the same profession.

By the way, even though most people liked me right off the bat because I was open, warm and friendly, or I could get through to them being open, warm and friendly, Kell had not thawed even a little bit.

The other thing I had learned was that the purpose of this mission was to recover an elfin relic of great importance. Many Lunwynians had been searching for it literally for centuries. There had been many rumors of it surfacing which meant equally numerous operations were launched but in the end these were fruitless. Frey himself had planned and executed three such maneuvers since he started raiding, all ending in disappointment.

He told me he did not hold high hopes for this one either. That said, he also told me that his informant this time was far more reliable than the last three.

Regardless the relic, a petrified branch of an adela tree, or the adela tree, the first one the goddess Adele created, was important enough to make an attempt so that was what he was doing.

We were now out of Lunwynian waters and in those of Middleland. The relic, Frey’s informant told him, was in the possession of Phobin who happened to be the lover of Princess Sjofn’s cousin, Broderick who was King Baldur’s son.

Frey didn’t have a lot to say about Broderick but, reading between the lines, I got the sense he didn’t like him much. He had less to say about Phobin but what he did say you didn’t have to read between the lines. He disliked Phobin flat out. And I got the feeling he would have probably liked Broderick more if he hadn’t chosen Phobin as partner.

Frey had also cautiously informed me that this mission was complicated. And it was complicated because Frey had been to Middleland recently and his last mission there had been dangerous. It had also been secret. Further, it had been politically sensitive. And lastly, my father didn’t know about it nor, incidentally, the one Frey was currently planning.

This was because Frey tended to tell Atticus about these missions after they were successful for if things went awry (eek!), Atticus could honestly claim no knowledge of them. Unless, of course, it was my father who asked Frey to accomplish them.

Though, that said, the last one was so sensitive, Father still didn’t know about it.

King Baldur also hadn’t known about Frey’s previous mission, Frey wasn’t fired up for either brother to know and he was intent upon entering Middleland, hopefully retrieving the relic and exiting without anyone being the wiser about this mission and, with any luck, they were still no one wiser about the last.

As the story goes, Thad had a communication from a woman he had once had a somewhat long affair with and still held in high regard. This communication was an urgent request to aid in the escape of another woman as she was desperate to flee her captor.

Thad, still carrying feelings for his ex-lover and therefore trusting her, agreed to assist without actually getting all the information. Frey had not meant to go, seeing as he was getting married, though he did offer Thad one of his vessels. But, once married and deciding he’d rather be at sea doing dangerous deeds with his men than hanging with a lesbian (in all fairness, I could see this) at his wedding celebration to her and after, he’d changed his mind, deposited me at his hunting cabin and gone.

Once they arrived, they found that Thad’s friend was actually the maid to King Baldur’s personal sorceress, a woman with great power but even so, she was controlled by Baldur.

It was a sad story, actually, because Frey and Thad had learned from the maid that this sorceress, named Circe (totally kickass name, by the by) had displayed she held magic from practically birth. In order to control her power, Baldur had kidnapped her when she was very young. And to make certain to keep her with no attempts made to gain her return; he’d executed both of her parents.

Yes, executed two people in order to steal their daughter.

It seemed my uncle was a true peach.

Unfortunately for her, not only did she hold a great deal of magic, she also grew into great beauty. So my lovely uncle (not), had started forcing himself on her when she was fourteen and she was still known to be his mistress even though she was more than double that age now.

That was to say, Circe was his unwilling mistress.

Nevertheless, she was a prized possession of King Baldur’s for more reasons than one and assisting her to escape was, as Frey phrased it, “politically sensitive” (but what he meant was politically explosive thus Father still being none the wiser).

However, two things happened. One, Frey was Frey and Thad told me that, upon learning her story, he didn’t hesitate to agree to help her escape. Two, the sorceress’s maid had relayed that Circe had information about the elfin relic everyone was seeking and she would pay for their efforts by providing this information to Frey.

Therefore, Circe was Frey’s source and although centuries of experience with disappointment made him keep his expectations in check, as the days went by and launching the operation came closer, I could feel the men’s restless excitement.

Expectations might be in check but there was still hope.

Yes, this was how important the relic was.

Thinking of all this, I pushed deeper into my trunk to find a clean pair of breeches to wear, pulled some out, a small pouch dropped out of a fold and with it a piece of paper fluttered.

I stared at the tiny, purple satin pouch on the floor by my knee then reached down to pick up the folded piece of paper.

I opened it and read:

Sweet Finnie,

We hope you find this sooner rather than later.

We’ve packed some adela tea for you to use with your husband.

We don’t know if you’ve read about this in your books but in case you haven’t, we’ll explain.

Harvesting anything from adela trees, which grow very slowly and are very susceptible to disease, is strictly controlled. Any adela tree is sacred for they are created by the goddess but also they are the entry point of the elves from their realm into ours. If anything were to happen to the adelas, the elves would be trapped under the earth for eternity and no one wants that so they are handled carefully.

Adela tree branches can be gathered only for wedding bundles and their bark is harvested cautiously and used for a special tea. Adela tea is quite expensive, very rare and not used widely.

We were not able to purchase more than just enough for you to make one cup but one cup, shared by lovers, is just (this underlined) enough.

You see, the tea serves to heighten your senses, touch, taste, smell, sight, hearing, and also it significantly heightens arousal. Alyssa has an ongoing dalliance with the head of the Ulfr House, she is a particular favorite of his and she visits him every time he comes to Fyngaard. Once, he had some tea that he shared with her and she said it was marvelous (underlined twice).

Please do not worry, the affects are not debilitating nor are they lasting. Alyssa says that half a cup each for her and her gentleman lasted several hours, they slept well and woke up refreshed.

With your spirit, we thought this was an adventure you had (underlined three times) to take.

So this is our gift to you and The Drakkar.

Enjoy, sweet Finnie, and we look forward to seeing you upon your return and hearing all (underlined four times) about it.

With love,

Jocelyn, Alyssa, Esther and Bess

I picked up the pouch and fingered the soft parcel.

Then I grinned.

My girls were the… absolute… best.

And this was one reason of many, including the fact that they’d procured and provided me with a powder they promised (because they all used it) that I could sprinkle just a touch into water or coffee and it would keep me from getting pregnant. I had to do it every day and luckily it tasted pretty good, though weird, like a minty orange. Although it hadn’t been very long, so far, so good (since, unfortunately and fortunately, considering it was unfun having your period in this world and I knew that because I’d already experienced it twice – not to mention doing it on a ship with a bunch of guys, but two days into the voyage, I had it and luckily, four days later I was done and this meant I was free and clear… for now).

The door opened, I jumped and looked that way to see Skylar standing in it, keeping well away from me.

“Eggs, bacon and toast, milady?” he asked like he asked every morning for reasons I didn’t know because I’d learned from Frey that unless I picked just eggs and toast or just bacon and toast, or I wanted lunch for breakfast, that was my only choice for the ship’s cook was nearly as cranky as Kell, he wasn’t hot on personal orders and didn’t do anything “girlie” such as pancakes apparently were.

I smiled gently at the boy and said softly, “Yes, Skylar, that would be lovely. Thank you.”

He nodded once and moved quickly out of the room.

I stared at the closed door wondering what, if anything, I could do about that.

Then I decided to talk to Frey about it later.

My eyes drifted down to the pouch in my hand and again my mouth curled into a smile.

Yes, I’d talk to him about it.

Much later.

* * * * *

I watched my dagger skitter across the deck and come to a stop against some rope.

Then I bit my lip and ignored Stephan, Max and Gunner, who I knew would be grinning, thinking this was hilarious, and Kell, who would be scowling, thinking I should be hiding in Frey’s cabin for the duration of the trip repeating to myself that I would never again set foot on the ship that was named after me… or any ship for that matter.

Then I looked at Lund as he pulled out of the lunge he’d used to knock my dagger away and sheathed his own. Then he planted his hands on his hips and glowered at me.

“Finnie, I’ve told you, you have inexperience and lack of strength as formidable weaknesses but quickness, surprise and…” he paused and leaned slightly toward me, “concentration can be used as your strengths. To have quickness and provide surprise, you need to…” he paused again, leaned back and crossed his arms on his chest, “concentrate.”

He was not wrong. My mind was not on learning how to wield a dagger. It was afternoon. My mind was in the cabin where the adela tea pouch was and where, I hoped, Skylar had left a boiled kettle for me (a request, since I was thinking to surprise Frey, I had actually made myself).

“I’m sorry, Lund, my mind is elsewhere,” I admitted.

“If this is so, then you should not be working with a dagger. What just happened, happened because I am good and I don’t wish you harm. In a true fight, a man could take your hand with that maneuver, had he the strength and sharpness of blade. At the very least, he could cut your wrist where blood flows freely. Then you’d be significantly weakened and even face death.”

Ho boy. Death was never good.

“Right,” I said softly.

He uncrossed his arms, got closer to me and I looked up into his gray eyes which, I noted, had stopped glowering and had warmed. I had also long since noted that this was Lund’s way. He could lose his patience in our practice but only when I did really stupid shit he’d told me time and again not to do but he didn’t lose it for long.

“I enjoy our sessions, my princess, but I equally enjoy teaching you how to cut a deck false. If you wish to skip your lesson, we can sit down to cards. All you need do is say.”

God, seriously, he was a nice guy and, spending time with all Frey’s men, I’d found they all were.

Except Kell, who disliked me and Oleg, who was kind of monosyllabic and a little scary but mostly he was okay too.

“Thanks,” I replied quietly and Lund grinned at me.

“Wife,” I heard and since it was Frey’s voice and that could only be me, I turned to see him striding toward me.

My knees wobbled and not only because he, as ever, looked hot.

“We’ll leave it at that for the day,” Lund muttered, I looked from Frey to him, nodded and smiled and he moved away to collect my lost dagger.

I turned back to Frey who was now very close. He didn’t touch me but he was way in my space.

Hmm. I knew what that meant and that meant firstly, he did not want us to be overheard and secondly, he actually did want to touch me but this was something he avoided doing too much of in front of his men. There were times he did, of course, but in broad daylight in the middle of the waist deck with us having a large audience was not one of those times.

“We have plans, wee one,” he reminded me of something he so totally didn’t need to remind me of. “I need words with Kell. I see your lesson is finished?”

I nodded.

“Good,” he muttered, “I’ll meet you in our cabin.”

My knees wobbled again and my nipples tingled but my head nodded.

He grinned like he knew what was happening in my head and under my sweater and that grin was so good, my nipples got hard and I felt a really nice spasm.

“See you there, honey,” I whispered.

His eyes flared and he whispered back, “Indeed.”

I decided to get to the cabin firstly to make the tea and secondly before I melted into a puddle on the deck in front of everyone at just thinking about what would happen after I made the tea.

So I did that, smiling at Frey then turning my head as I walked toward the bridge deck and calling, “Later boys!”

I got some chin lifts and Max called back, “Until later, Finnie.”

Then I hightailed it out of there.

When I got to the cabin, I saw the good news was Skylar was a really good cabin boy. He didn’t make the bed because there was pretty much no point but he delivered water for washing, took it away, cleaned out the basin, brought food, took away the dishes, cleaned clothes and spent not a small amount of time shining brass.

He also made sure I had a kettle of boiling water, a cup and tea infuser.

The bad news was, by the time I made it to the cabin, I’d begun to get nervous.

What if it didn’t work or it went wonky? What if Frey wasn’t into this kind of thing? What if we got a bad batch and not-so-good things happened?

I stood by the boiled kettle that, in the not even close to warm cabin was cooling fast and worried my lip. Then I heard a noise outside and jumped, thinking it was Frey. I looked to the closed door; it didn’t open so I looked back to the kettle.

I did not partake of drugs, this was an adventure Mom and Dad warned me (repeatedly) was not worth risking.

But this was the bark of a beautiful tree. It was natural. It wasn’t drugs… exactly.

Shit!

There was another thump outside and I jumped yet again, looking to the door. After several moments with no Frey I decided to suck it up.

It was now or never.

And I lived in the now… with Frey.

I grabbed the infuser, poured the tiny, glittery, gorgeous pieces of bark into it, shaking the pouch to make sure they were all out. Then I screwed the infuser closed, dropped it into the cup and poured over the steaming water. Then I waited, staring at it wondering how long it should infuse. Then wondering if I should wait for Frey before I tried it.

Then I took hold of the little chain, dunked the infuser several times and watched with fascination as glitter flowed out of the infuser, permeating the liquid and making the water in the cup actually glow.

Yes… glow.

Totally freaking cool.

I pulled the infuser out, set it aside and after taking a deep breath, before I lost my nerve, I lifted the cup to my lips and took a sip.

Holy moly!

I stared into the glowing cup.

Heaven. Absolutely divine.

I took another sip tasting licorice and peppermint with hints of vanilla.

God, celestial.

Taking another sip I decided that the gods of this world had to exist. No other being could create something so heavenly.

On sip four, I felt it start and on sip five it grew stronger. I knew it because I was no longer tasting the tea, I was feeling it. The flavor had intensified to such an extent it was a thrill simply experiencing it. Sip six brought more, the coolness of the air in the cabin started stinging my skin, the drafts gliding across were almost physical. The shine on the brass on the instruments on the walls had grown so bright, it was nearly blinding. I could feel every centimeter of the handle of the cup weighing on my fingers. I could hear the men moving about on deck above me.

Wow. This stuff worked fast and it was awesome.

Sip seven and I’d had half the cup. I wanted more, it was delicious, divine, freaking bliss in liquid form but I forced myself to set the cup down to save the second half for Frey.

Then the warmth slid through me, starting right in my sex and slinking up, down and out until it heated me from top-to-toe, every inch of my skin, every centimeter of my innards. The warmth was so intense I had to put my hand to the table to hold myself steady because I thought my legs might buckle from under me.

It didn’t freak me out because the sensation was nowhere near scary.

It was beautiful.

So beautiful, so intense, so pervasive, I felt like I was going to overheat.

God, if Frey didn’t get to the cabin soon, I was going to have to take care of myself.

And I knew I’d enjoy every… freaking… second.

I heard his boots on the steps outside and my feet moved me directly to the door. They did this because suddenly my hands itched to touch him, my tongue was dry with the need to taste him, my stomach was hollow with hunger for him and my sex ached for his to fill it.

And because of this, he barely closed the door when I was all over him, pressing close, my hands gliding up his chest to curl around the back of his neck. In position, I insistently pulled his mouth down to mine.

“Fin –” he got out which was good, perfect, his mouth was open and since my lips were there, my tongue slid inside.

Oh yes. Ho boy. Yes.

I had my answer. I’d never tire of the taste of him, ever.

I felt his hands on my hips and the touch was light but it burned into me and felt so freaking good I moaned into his mouth.

That mouth tore from mine as he shuffled me in a few steps and I pulled on his neck to bring him back.

“Wee one, what on –?” he asked but something caught his attention, he glanced beyond me briefly then did a double take, his head jerking to look back at the table.

Then he looked down at me, his eyes locked on mine and he studied me intensely as his arms glided around me, pulling me close.

I bit my lip at the touch of his hard body against mine and wondered if he’d be put off if I started tearing off my clothes (and his) when his head bent and his face got close.

His voice was a low rumble that reverberated through me, causing my knees to go weak (and a variety of other things, all so fabulous they were nearly tortuous), when he asked, “That cup, Finnie, it glows. Have you drunk of the adela?”

I pressed closer, my lids had lowered, I was trying to focus on not pressing my mouth to his (or pressing it other places) but instead answering his question and also assessing his reaction to this idea and I whispered, “The girls gave it to me. Uh… to us.”

He stared at me for a second that seemed to last five hours then both his hands were suddenly on either side of my head, he tipped it back and thank God, thank God, thank God, God, God, he was kissing me, hard, deep with lots and lots of tongue.

I shivered against him and held on tight.

Oh man. I was going to come just from kissing.

His mouth tore from mine, the heat in my body was communicated in the heat in his eyes and he growled, “By the gods, wife, you suit me.”

Then he whisked me up in his arms, carried me to the table, planted my ass on it and curled a hand around my neck as he curved the fingers of his other through the handle of the cup. He picked it up and I held my breath as he held my eyes while he brought it to his lips. Then I lost his eyes as his neck bent back and he downed the whole thing in one gulp.

Okay, evidence was clearly suggesting Frey was really, really into this.

His head righted, he set the mug aside and he grabbed my legs behind the knees, opened them and moved between.

Oh yeah. Now we were talking.

My hands slid up his chest to latch onto his neck and my legs lifted up, knees bent, to press against his hips as he leaned into me.

“They explained what the adela does?” he asked as he braced one hand on the table while the other arm curled around me.

“Unh-hunh,” I mumbled, staring at his mouth and wishing it wasn’t so damned far away.

“And you want this, Finnie?”

I forced my eyes up to his and my mind to concentrate. “Is it bad?”

“No,” he replied, his arm lifting me up from the table and pressing my body into his as I watched his heated eyes start to scorch. “But it’s powerful, wee one. You do not share the adela cup with someone you don’t trust with every inch of you.”

Oh yes. Every inch of me.

I liked that. I wanted to get to the every inch of me part.

“But you drank it,” I whispered instead of whined because he still wasn’t kissing me but he’d bent lower, his arm curling around and cushioning the back if my neck, his body leaned deep into mine, pressing it into the table even as he pulled it up and into him.

He grinned and his grin was so damned wicked it was physical.

I trembled in a really, really good way and he whispered, “You’re in no state to change your mind.”

He was right about that.

“And, my Finnie, I trust you with every inch of me,” he went on and I felt that too, all through me, and that was in a really, really good way too.

So good, my lids lowered and I pressed my hips into his.

“Finnie, love, look at me,” he growled, I opened my eyes and saw his were so damned hot, they were fevered.

It was a seriously good look, the best ever.

“It is strong but I will walk out that door, Finnie, look in my eyes, focus and tell me, are you ready for this?”

I looked in his eyes, I focused for a nanosecond and then I told him the truth that would be the truth if I’d drunk from a glowing cup, just woke up in the morning, was eating lunch or was about to fall asleep at night.

“Frey Drakkar, I trust you with every inch of me.”

I barely got out the “e” in “me” when his mouth was on mine, he ground his hips into me at the same time his arm drove me down into his hips and I groaned deep into his throat.

Oh God, it was too much, too big. I tore my mouth away, shoved my face in his neck at the same time my hands, acting on their own, yanked up his sweater so they could get to the sleek, muscled, unbelievably brilliant to the touch skin of his back.

“Too much, Frey,” I whimpered against his neck as I felt his lips and tongue at mine and his hips kept grinding into me. “God, baby,” my head arched back, “I’m going to come with just this.”

His arm moved from my neck so his hand could cup my head and he positioned it to facing him as he kept pushing his hips deep into mine.

“Oh yes, my love, prepare,” he warned on a low growl. “You’re going to climax over a lot of ‘just this’.”

Then his mouth took mine, his tongue invaded, hungry, devouring, his hips pressed in hard and I came, fast, deep and hot.

It was excruciatingly beautiful.

I was still climaxing as he yanked off my sweater, my boots, my socks and breeches, taking my underwear with them, my eyes were somnolently focusing and I watched him pull of his sweater.

At the mere sight of his chest, I did a full body tremble.

Then he disappeared as he dropped to his knees between my legs, I sucked in a breath of anticipation, he tossed my legs over his shoulders then his mouth was on me.

Oh my God. He was good at this normally, really good.

Hungry and fevered, both him and me, it was off the charts.

No, there was no chart. It was indescribable.

My heels dug into his back, my hips lifted to rub against his mouth as his big hands cupped my ass to pull me to him and he took and took and took and I came again and again and again, crying out at first then whimpering, my fingers in his hair, holding him tight to me.

“Frey,” I gasped, suddenly needing him, “my turn, baby.”

He didn’t need to be asked twice, he sucked deep one, last, gorgeous time then his mouth went away and I sat up, jumped off the table and was on my knees in front of him before he’d got the first button opened his breeches.

I took over unbuttoning his fly then I took over, taking him in my mouth.

This was something I liked to do but now it was something I adored and the noises Frey was making, noises coming deep from his chest, his big hands cupping either side of my head lightly, his hips thrusting gently into my mouth, it was fantastic.

Oh God, I was close again.

Before I could let go, he pulled out and his hands were in my armpits, yanking me straight up. My arms went around his shoulders, my legs around his hips; he strode swiftly to the bed. By the time we got there, I had one arm down, my hand at his cock wrapped around, guiding him to me so when he dropped me to my back on the bed with him on top of me, I had him right there.

Then he was inside me.

My body arched and I came instantly. It took Frey about half a minute longer.

And thus it began, it was about touch, taste, scent, sight, sound… and trust.

Every moan, groan, grunt and whimper was a caress, every inch of his skin that caught my eye was a lazy, effective stroke, the smell of his hair was a tight embrace and actual touches and the flavor of him took me almost instantly to orgasm.

I thought I had Frey memorized but that afternoon every nuance of him was burned so deep in my brain I’d never forget it, not a second, not a touch, not a taste, not a vision, not an aroma, not the barest whisper.

It was the most intense, profound, agonizingly beautiful thing I ever experienced; every second sheer perfection.

And after hours, when we came down, when the strokes became more languorous, the whimpers more subdued, the groans turned to growls and our eyes grew less fevered, I knew I was in love.

Not with a man who would share this with me and give me multiple orgasms multiple times but with the man I would chose to share this with, trusting him enough to open myself so completely, I was fully exposed and instead of taking everything, he handed me the world.

He handed me the world.

And I was going to take it.

I wasn’t going anywhere. I wasn’t going home except to tie up my life, explain and say good-bye to people I loved.

I was going to embark on the ultimate adventure.

Somehow, someway, I had to figure out how to talk my husband (and the king and queen) into accepting me as a replacement for good and communicate with Sjofn that her hopes for Lunwyn had come true.

I was going to stay with the man I loved in this fabulous world that had elves and dragons (and people who wanted to kill me, but I decided not to think of that).

And I was going to do it forever.

* * * * *

“Do you suppose we should eat, wee one?” Frey murmured

Frey was on his back, his arm around me, his fingers drawing lazy patterns on my hip. I was pressed to his side, cheek on his shoulder, my leg over his, my fingertips floating absently across the skin of his wide chest. But at his question, I dropped my hand to that chest, pressed in and curled my body deeper into him.

Truth be told, I was absolutely famished. I’d learned having hours of very energetic sex and countless orgasms did that to you.

But right then it was just Frey and me tangled in each other and velvet blankets on a divan in a cabin on a fabulous ship with nothing but the dark cut minimally by moonlight coming in his windows and the fact that I’d just come to the realization I was in love for the first time in my life. And I liked all of it just like that and I didn’t want to lose any of it.

To communicate all this, I mumbled, “Mm.”

His body shook with his inaudible chuckle and he rolled into me so we were both on our sides, face to face.

I could barely make him out in the moonlight but I didn’t need to. I’d remember his face and every inch of his skin until my dying breath.

His hands drifted up and down my back and his voice was soft when he asked, “Do you want to doze while I find food?”

My arm around him got tighter and I blurted, “I don’t want you to go anywhere.”

His hands stopped drifting and he held tight before he whispered, “All right, my Finnie, I’ll not go anywhere.”

I nodded and dipped my chin, pressing my face in his chest and his hands started drifting again, one gliding up to play with my hair.

I didn’t stroke, I just held on.

And both of us did this for awhile.

Finally, I broke the silence to ask quietly, “How do people go back to normal sex after that?”

Frey answered just as quietly, “If they do it with their partner, they don’t.”

I blinked at his chest then my head tipped back, I heard his move on the pillow and I knew he was looking down at me.

“They don’t?” I queried.

“Never.”

Ho boy.

“Frey,” I whispered, “that was… it was…well, freaking awesome but we can’t do it like that every time. It would kill us.”

His chuckle was audible this time and he gave me a slight squeeze before he explained, “No, my love, the adela tea isn’t meant to be used every time, not even sometimes. It is meant to be used carefully, it is meant to be used as a means to deepen something that is already deep, to heighten awareness of things that are already there. There are those who use it simply for pleasure but when a husband and wife who care about each other use it, the goddess Adele’s intent for her gift is much more meaningful.”

Both his arms got tight around me and he gently pulled me up so my head was on a pillow by his.

Then he said softly, “I know things about you now, things you like, sounds you make, expressions on your face that I may not have understood or would have missed before. I would assume you now hold the same knowledge about me.”

He would assume correct in a big way.

“Yes,” I whispered.

His head bent so his forehead was touching mine and he was whispering too when he replied, “It will never be the same between us because we hold that knowledge, we’re more in tune, we better understand not only what brings pleasure to each other but also to ourselves. We won’t miss those things as we might have done before, wee one, we’ll know how to take advantage of them. It will not be the same as we just had but it won’t need to be and it will make something that was already splendid much better.”

Wow. That was actually kind of beautiful.

“Boy,” I breathed, “that Adele knows what she’s doing.”

Frey gathered me closer and tipped his mouth so his lips touched mine.

I felt his were smiling.

Then he said quietly, “She is a goddess, Finnie.”

“Right,” I whispered, he chuckled and moved his head slightly back.

Then I asked the question no girl should ask, no time, no place, no reason, no matter what.

But I asked it.

“Have you done that with other women?”

His big relaxed body grew stiff and I closed my eyes tight then opened them and tried to repair the damage.

“I’m sorry, Frey, so, so sorry. It’s none of my –”

He cut me off to say, “Two.”

I blinked at him in the dark then asked, “What?”

“Two,” he repeated then continued. “A courtesan in Fleuridia and that time it was not about a deeper meaning but an intense experience. It had no meaning. I don’t even recall her name.”

Hmm.

“And a woman in Sudvic,” he went on. “A widow who I visited frequently when I was in the city and this acquaintance lasted some time. She introduced it in an attempt to get me to feel more about what we shared than was there. But if it isn’t there, you can’t make it be there. Her attempt backfired for she exposed how she felt about me, feelings I knew I couldn’t return. I came to understand it was unfair to give her hope by continuing our liaison and shortly after, I stopped visiting her.” His arms gave me another squeeze and he explained, “Adele rules passion but she holds no sway over love.”

I was pleased he was honest and trusted me without hesitation with stories of his past. That felt nice and said a lot of good things about him.

But at his mention of love, I held my breath hoping he wouldn’t notice I was holding my breath and also hoping that maybe he was about to share something so I could share something, both of which were crucially important.

I quietly let my breath out when he didn’t.

I hid my disappointment with another question. “So the Lunwynians don’t actually have a goddess of love, just passion and motherhood?”

“For the ancients, when the dragons flew freely, they did,” Frey answered and he gave me another squeeze and whispered, “Her name was Sjofn.”

I held my breath again and after awhile let it out when he said no more.

Then I shared, “My parents named me after a Norse goddess of love. She was an ancient goddess too. They did this because I was born with my hair. They thought it looked like snow. There’s a lot of snow in Scandinavia so that’s why they decided on that. They were going to name me Tabitha.”

His body shook with a brief chuckle before he stated, “You are not a Tabitha.”

No, this was true.

“It’s spelled differently,” I informed him. “No one would get it the way it was spelled and they didn’t want people to mess it up so they spelled it S… e… o…a… f… i… n.”

He pressed closer to me, indicating, like he always did in some sweet, gentle way when I shared something he liked learning, that he liked learning the spelling of my name before he muttered, “This was probably wise.”

“They were very wise,” I concurred then I said as if to myself, “I wonder if it’s the same goddess in both worlds.”

“This, my wee one, we will probably never know.”

Probably not.

“Though,” Frey went on, “I find, if you pay attention, there are curious links to your world and mine. For instance, the Aurora of this world could clearly be your mother in both.”

This was also true, I’d noticed that too.

I sighed. Then I muttered, “I wonder what the you of my world is like.”

His arms got tight and he said gently but firmly, “This, my Finnie, you will definitely never know.”

I had to admit, his firm response was a tad surprising but the words he said were undoubtedly true.

I brought the conversation around full circle and said softly, “You’re hungry.”

His arms relaxed and he murmured, “Indeed.”

“One of us should rustle up some food and since I haven’t decided how to get Skylar not to be terrified of me, that person should be you.”

“Indeed,” he repeated, again on a murmur but this one held humor.

“We need to eat and then we need to talk about Skylar,” I said softly.

Frey sighed before he murmured, “I had wondered when you’d get to that.”

My head tilted into the pillow. “Get to what?”

“You have been very patient, wife, but I knew eventually you would make your play to win Skylar. I see your face when you note someone is troubled. Atticus is an example, you felt his disappointment keenly, allowing it to settle in your heart, determined to do something about it. It is almost as if you experience other’s discomfort as your own and cannot abide it. Naturally, you bring light into every situation with a smile, an understanding look or a laugh, helping others to be instantly comfortable when they’re in your presence and if you don’t find this reaction, you set about doing something about it.”

God, what a nice thing to say.

And, incidentally, yes, I was so totally in love with this man.

Then he finished, “But I fear Skylar will be a challenge, even for you.”

“You’ll help me,” I guessed.

“I will, my winter bride, but he was gravely mishandled and the way he was, those wounds run deep in very dark places even your light might not penetrate.”

“Can it hurt to try?” I asked.

“Absolutely not,” I answered.

Oh yeah. I loved my husband.

Therefore I melted into him and declared, “So tomorrow, Operation Skylar commences.”

His arms convulsed and he laughed straight out. Then he bent in to kiss my forehead.

He left his lips there when he murmured, “I’ll see about food.”

He kissed me again then slid away but he pulled the velvet and hides over me until I was cocooned in warmth. In the dark, I heard him dress and then he lit the lantern by the door before I watched him pass through it.

And it felt wrong, his leaving the bed after what we’d shared and me not whispering “I love you” and also Frey not returning the sentiment.

I pulled a pillow to my front and held on tight.

Then I tilted my head to look out the window at the back of the ship and sighed deeply.

Then I forced my thoughts to food and Skylar.

There would be a time to discuss what I wanted to discuss but that time wasn’t right before Frey intended to enter a country in secret, penetrate the prince’s lover’s home and steal a priceless, ancient relic.

But there would be a time and it would be the right time.

And I’d find it.