Wildest Dreams

Chapter Eight

Elves

I stood in the bathroom space thinking that I really needed fifteen meals.

Maybe twenty-one.

Or, perhaps ninety.

I was so not ready for this.

And I had been in the bathroom way longer than nine minutes. I was pretty certain Frey was going to bust down the door any second.

I totally shouldn’t have lost it at dinner and thus made Frey skip pie.

I needed pie.

I needed to think!

How to get out of this?

I stared at myself in the mirror.

For reasons unknown to me, probably nervous energy, I had decided to arrange my hair loosely at the top of my head with one of the scads of ice blue ribbons that had been packed in my beautification trunk. I didn’t know what I was going for, sultry vixen or innocent virgin (probably the latter in hopes that Frey would take it slow and be gentle) and to get this to look even slightly good, it took what had to be nineteen minutes, not nine.

I had also changed into the nightgown I was pretty sure Sjofn was supposed to wear on her wedding night. This was because you didn’t sleep in this nightie. This nightie was an occasion nightie, it was meant to be seen and it was way too delicate to sleep in.

It was beautiful, elaborate winter white lace over ice blue satin. The thin straps were ice blue satin too. It had an empire waist and showed serious cleavage and leg. This last was because the skirt only fell low enough to cover my rear…barely. It was mostly simple but that made it elegant, the lace made it extraordinary and the ice blue satin made it beautiful (not to mention it felt great against my skin).

But I thought, at that moment, it was too short, too suggestive and way too sexy.

Not that I had to suggest anything and everything was sexy when you were essentially a sure thing.

But it had been purchased for Frey. And for some crazy, stupid reason (even though he could be a very big jerk), when I’d been considering what would happen that night, I decided to wear it. And I did this because I thought even men should have what they looked forward to on their wedding nights. Like women, they only got one and it should be a good one.

So he messed up his first shot. But before my nerves overwhelmed me, I felt some weird drive to give it to him just the same.

And he sure wasn’t going to get anything like it when Sjofn came back.

So I’d picked that nightgown.

Shit.

I stared at my reflection, my mind whirling.

Then I realized I had no choice. I made the deal, I had to do it. I couldn’t go running into the night, Frey would find me and anyway, I’d freeze to death. I had to go to the loft and when I got there, maybe I could talk him into taking it slow, as in, making out tonight for awhile, getting the hang of each other and then seeing what tomorrow brings.

I could do that, I could make out with him. I already knew he was a good kisser. That would be nice, hell, that would be great.

Then my mind came back to reality with a, Fat chance of convincing him of that, Finnie.

I stared at my face in the mirror.

Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained. That was what Dad (and a bunch of other people) always said.

I blew out the candles in the bathroom space and walked out to the living room.

All was dark except the fireplaces that had been fed and were blazing big and bright. The curtains had been pulled by me, way earlier, to shut out the draft after the sun went down. I’d learned that early, as in, after the first night I slept there when I woke up on the couch with a stiff neck.

The curtain at the railing at the loft was mostly closed, light was coming through where it was opened at the end.

By the ladder.

Eek!

I tried to remember if Penelope was in or out when I saw her rise to all fours where she was curled on one of the fluffy throws on an armchair. She stretched her back, sat on her ass and blinked through the firelight at me. Then she looked up at the loft like she knew what was about to happen there. Then she looked back at me and blinked. Then she jumped off the armchair, landing with a fat kitty thump and waddled into the kitchen.

Well, guess she wasn’t going up there with me to assist me in talking Frey into a make out session.

With no choice, I went to the ladder and climbed up.

When I got up, I didn’t look. I entered the space bent double (because I had to, though this was not good considering my major cleavage and the fact that it made the nightie ride up my ass) and turned to shut the curtain. Then I sucked in a deep breath while hiding sucking in a deep breath and let it out while turning back.

I had put three candleholders in each corner to light the space. When I read at night, I moved six of them beside the bed but I kept them in the corners normally to keep them away from the bedclothes.

All of them were lit, the fire in the grate was blazing, the space seemed warm and cozy and Frey was wearing nothing but breeches and crouched before the fire.

He looked hot. His muscled shoulders looked broad. His defined lats looked powerful. And his eyes were on me. Or, more accurately, they were on my nightie.

Ho boy.

I should have crouched, though that wouldn’t have been much better.

“Uh… hi,” I whispered.

At the sound of my voice, Frey blinked then he moved. Slowly, his big body shifted then he crawled on all fours into the bed as I stood still and watched without blinking.

There was something animal about that, the way he moved, the unhurried way he did it, his muscles bunching, the fact that he didn’t tear his eyes from my face.

It was animal, graceful, predatory… fascinating.

My mouth went dry and I totally forgot about talking him into just making out.

He dropped to a hip and said gently, “Come here, Finnie.”

For some reason, without hesitation, I went there. Falling to my knees when my toes hit bedclothes, I moved across the space, stopped two feet away and put my rump to my calves. Then my body stilled when his hand came up. It went to my hair and with a gentle tug, the ribbon was gone and my hair tumbled down.

Well, so much for that effort.

His hand curled warm around my neck.

“I wish to feel it all over me, wife,” he whispered.

Hmm.

I liked that.

“Okay,” I whispered back.

When I spoke, his eyes did what they did in the market that day, they got lazy and they smiled.

My belly dropped.

Wow.

His hand at my neck curled around to the back and his other hand came to my waist, fingertips only, gliding in, sliding back then I felt his whole hand then, pressing at the small of my back, he pulled me toward him slowly.

I kept my eyes glued to his as my breath started coming faster and my body started trembling – from fear, definitely, anxiety, you bet, and something else, absolutely.

As he pulled me closer, his hand at the small of my back wrapped around my waist, tugging me gently so I fell from my calves to my hip and thigh. Then I was pulled closer… my head tipping back… closer… his head dipping down… closer… then my eyes dropped to his mouth right before they drifted closed and he touched his lips to mine.

That was it. A gentle touch then he used his hands and his torso to push me until my back was to the bed, my head to the pillows and he settled at my side on his forearm, the hand that was at my neck sliding down my shoulder, my arm, in, over the lace and satin at my ribs, down, over my belly, curling at my waist, down, over my hip, all of this slow, all of this taking his time, all of this while his eyes watched.

That felt nice, even relaxing, but I was in no state to relax. The heat in his eyes and the expression on his face were both communicating to me in a way that made my skin heat. And his chest was right there, all of it, there was a lot of it, it was fantastic and I wanted to touch.

But I was terrified at the same time.

Still, he was touching me so I should get to touch him. And I wanted it so I lifted my hand and slowly moved it toward his chest as his hand slid back up to my belly then suddenly my hand was arrested in mid-air because his fingers had curled around my wrist.

My eyes went to his to see his on my hand.

Then they came to mine as he pulled my hand to the warm, sleek skin of his chest, pressing it flat as he leaned closer to me.

With his face a couple inches from mine, my hand pressed to his skin, he asked softly, “Why do you tremble, wife?”

I licked my lips. Then I whispered my admission, “I’m nervous, Frey.”

His lazy, heated eyes got lazier and more heated as he slid my hand up his chest, over his shoulder and around his neck, gently pulling my torso up with it then he left my hand there and his arm curved around my waist. He dropped down fully to his side in the bed as he turned me into his arms and his mouth came to within a breath of mine.

“I’ll be gentle, Finnie,” he whispered.

“Promise?” I asked.

His hand slid warm up my spine to tangle in my hair, making me tremble anew, and not with nerves, as it travelled along its path and he pressed into me.

“I would not hurt you, my winter bride.” He slid his nose along mine and I liked that, it was sweet, it was hot, it felt nice and my body softened under his. “Ever,” he growled to finish and that was when he finally kissed me.

There it was. His tongue in my mouth, that skill I remembered, it was all there but this time he was giving it to me, not using it to take from me. It was slow, it was about discovery, exploration, showing, telling, rewarding and I softened more, pressing closer as his hand moved light over my nightie, warm, not invasive, soothing at the same time heating.

And I was heating, slowly, very slowly, because that was all he did, building the warmth, stoking the fire. He had time and he was going to take it, so he did.

And I did too. Hesitant, I explored his thick, soft hair and the muscles of his shoulders and back. All the while I explored his mouth, his tongue, tasted his lips and he explored me.

I liked what I discovered. It was freaking fantastic.

Finally, his big hand roved over the cheek of my ass and feeling it, feeling him so hard and warm pressed against me, his mouth so generous, his skin so silky sleek, fire suddenly shot between my legs, my hips pressed into his and I made a soft noise in his mouth.

Frey broke our kiss but his lips still touched mine and his fingers cupped my ass. “My wife likes this,” he whispered.

“Yes,” I whispered back because it was true.

Unhurried, his fingers pulled the material of my nightie up and I stared in his eyes, my body warm and still, my mind focusing on everything all at once, the feel of him, the smell of him, his lips so close, his eyes so gorgeous, his eyelashes so thick, the room lit with candlelight, my lips feeling bruised, my mouth wanting his back, the brilliant feel of my breasts pressed hard against his chest, the better feel of his hard cock pressed against me – he finally got the material up and slowly, like he had all the time in the world, as I held my breath, his fingers slid back down inside my panties.

Fire seared through me.

Oh my God.

Why was that so, unbelievably, phenomenal?

I didn’t know. I didn’t care. I just knew I wanted more.

So the instant I felt him skin against skin, my eyes drifted closed, another noise escaped my throat, I pressed tight to him, everywhere I could get and slow was a memory.

His hand clenched my ass, his torso pushed my back to the bed, his mouth slammed down on mine, not slow, not making out, not generous but hot, wet, hungry and amazing.

He shoved a knee between my legs but he didn’t have to. I opened them and bent my knee, pressing the inside of my thigh to the side of his hip as I arched my back to connect with him, tightened my arms to pull him into me and I moaned into his mouth.

He kissed me hard and deep then his mouth went from mine, down my cheek to my ear and I pressed into him, my fingernails grazing the skin of his back, I pushed my foot into the bed so I could shove my hips against his.

“You want me,” he growled in my ear.

My head turned so I could touch the tip of my tongue to his earlobe, my brain and other parts of me noting I liked the taste of him, then I whispered, “Yes, Frey.”

His hand left my ass, trailing around swiftly, it was suddenly between my legs over my panties, the touch light but definitely there and unbelievably enticing and his head came up, his eyes locking on mine.

“Gods, you want me,” he repeated, his voice thick and I knew he felt the damp evidence that proved this between my legs.

“Yes,” I breathed, moving my hips to grind down on his hand and he instantly cupped my sex and took my mouth in another hard, wet kiss.

I whimpered as he kissed me while his hand slid up, fingers pressing in, God, so freaking awesome, then up to my belly, I could feel the tip of his middle finger pressing in just above my panties, preparing, he was going to go skin to skin and I could not wait.

I drew in a deep breath of heady anticipation, sucking his tongue deeper in my mouth and then his entire body froze.

Then his head came up and I blinked as I watched it turn just a little like he was listening.

Then he growled, deep and low and seriously freaking pissed off, “Gods damn it.”

I blinked again.

Oh no.

What did I do?

He pulled away.

Oh God!

What did I do?

“Frey?” I called as he maneuvered his big body over mine.

“Stay here,” he ordered. “I’ll return.”

I turned with him as he quickly moved to the overhang of the loft, not the ladder. He wasn’t going to waste time, he was going to drop down which was crazy but I was stuck back thirty seconds ago.

“But…” I whispered, eyes on him, voice trembling with disappointment, “what did I do?”

His body arrested at my tone and his eyes came to me. They took me in quickly and then he was right there, his hand cupping the back of my head, his face all I could see.

“Nothing, Finnie, everything is fine. Stay up here. Don’t leave this space. I’ll return as soon as I can. Promise, wife.”

I stared into his eyes, he must have seen what he needed to see for he moved to touch his mouth to mine then he shifted swiftly and disappeared under the curtain, throwing his big body over the side of the loft.

I heard him land on his feet and I stared at the flickering candlelight on the curtain. Still staring at the curtain, I heard the front door open and close.

What just happened?

Did my husband in an alternate universe who I barely knew just turn me on more than I ever had been in my life then take off for what seemed like no reason, throwing himself off the side of a loft?

Then it hit me that he was turned on too. I could see it in his eyes, hell, I could feel it pressed against me. He wanted me. Bad.

Then he was gone.

He’d heard something.

Oh God.

He’d heard something.

Did Raiders have enemies?

Oh God!

Of course they did! I read the stories. Maybe they weren’t romanticized. Maybe the sea was filled with perils. Maybe he’d looted and pillaged and now it was payback time.

And he was out there in nothing but breeches!

I rushed across the bed, threw back the curtain and then went feet and ass first out of the loft to the ladder. Foot by foot, hand by hand, I quickly descended the ladder, rushed to the dark kitchen and went directly to the knives. Pulling out the biggest, scariest, sharpest one, I ran to the front door.

I heard his voice, not what he was saying, but he sounded pissed.

Shit!

I couldn’t rush outside in a nightie without knowing what I was rushing into and what Frey was facing.

Crap.

I went to the window, quickly pushed the heavy curtain aside and looked out.

Then I froze.

Then I stared.

Then I fought against passing out.

Then the teeny, little man with pointy ears and an upturned nose wearing a strange dark blue hat that looked like a cap with a straight white feather poked in the side and whose whole body was weirdly glowing ice blue turned to look at me.

Then I heard him say to Frey, “Your Ice Bride has seen us, Frey Drakkar.”

My eyes shot to Frey standing out in the freezing cold in nothing but breeches but the teeny little man didn’t have to tell Frey that. Frey was staring at me and shaking his head.

Then he moved to the door.

I jerked from behind the curtains and hyperventilated.

The door opened and I turned to face my husband.

Eyes on me, he said softly, “I asked you to stay in the loft, Finnie.”

“There are little fairies outside,” I breathed, forcing out the words through quick breaths.

His brows drew together in a way that wasn’t scary but, instead, surprised and he replied, “Those aren’t fairies, wife, those are elves.”

Elves?

Elves.

Holy moly!

My head slowly turned to the curtained window I could no longer see out of but my mind conjured the vision of what was essentially our front yard that I’d seen littered with about a dozen, maybe more, teeny men and women glowing ice blue.

Elves!

Oh my God!

How cool! This world had elves!

I looked back at Frey and whispered, “How cool!”

He held my eyes and told me his mind was not on elves when he asked quietly, “Can you explain why you hold a knife?”

“You’re a Raider,” I said without hesitation, wanting to get my explanation over with so we could talk about Elves, “you probably have enemies. I thought, with the way you took off, that they’d found you, it was payback time, you were unarmed so I wanted to see if I could help.” His face again registered surprise for an instant before it softened but I didn’t really notice mainly because my mind was on the elves outside so I asked, “Are those really elves?”

He moved toward me and my head tipped back as he did. When he got close, his hand carefully came to mine, took control of the knife then, when he had it, his torso twisted slightly and he tossed it so it landed with a soft funph on the couch.

With free hands, I lifted them and curled my fingers on his shoulders, shaking him a little to get his attention and when he turned back to me, I leaned close, went up on my toes and whispered excitedly, “Frey! Seriously! Are those really elves?”

His hands settled on my hips and he peered down at my face, one side of his mouth hitching up before he said, “Yes, Finnie, it’s been centuries but they have returned.”

I instantly pressed in deeper, chest to chest, fingers digging in his shoulders as I felt my eyes go wide, a big smile split my face and I cried, “How cool!”

He grinned then he said, “I must go with them.”

I blinked. Then I asked, “What? Why?”

“They have come to me with a message. It is important. I must go to the adela tree.”

Whoa. Wow. Cool again!

I totally wanted to see an adela tree. Not to mention, hang with elves.

I pressed closer and asked through my still bright smile, “Can I go?”

He kept grinning into my face but shook his head as his fingers gave me a squeeze, “No, wife.”

I felt my mouth turn down and asked, “Why?”

“They have a message for me, not you or us. And it is only me they expect at the adela tree.”

“But –”

“So it will only be me at the adela tree.”

Hmm. Bummer.

As was my way, when adventure was afoot, I didn’t give up.

“Can you go out there and maybe… ask if it was cool if I came with you? I could stand out of earshot,” I offered and he gave a short chuckle but shook his head.

“It must only be me.”

“But you’re big and scary and they’re teeny and not scary and you can stomp on them with your feet if you had a mind to. Maybe you can just tell them I’m coming.”

His brows drew slightly together again and his hands slid from my hips to the small of my back as his head dipped to mine and his voice went low.

“Finnie, it is true, I am their lord, but this is not their only form. They have awesome power and I command them but only because they have returned to the surface. They can retreat and I do not wish them to do so. If they want only me, as their lord, I should hear what they have to say and decide, during ensuing meetings, if I will take my winter bride.”

I was staring up with him with what I knew were big eyes when I breathed, “You’re their lord?”

He studied me then said, “Finnie, you know that, everyone does. The Frey of the line of Drakkar always commands the elves.”

Ho boy. I didn’t know and Sjofn hadn’t seen fit to share that tasty morsel in her note.

“They await, wife,” he prompted me on a slight squeeze of his arms.

“Right,” I nodded, “of course.”

I started to push back and then realized my hands on his shoulders and body pressed to his were not encountering cold. He’d been inside for awhile but it wasn’t like we had central heating. It was always a wee bit nippy, even with the fires blazing.

And his skin wasn’t cold. Not even a little bit.

I dropped my head to stare at his chest then it shot back and I stared at him.

Then I whispered, “Why aren’t you cold?”

His head tipped slightly to the side for a second before he quickly righted it and replied, “I do not suffer the cold, Finnie, this you also know because everyone knows it. I do not suffer in heat either.”

Uh.

Wow!

And.

What?

Unfortunately, I couldn’t ask because clearly I was supposed to know. And also unfortunately I had to cover.

“Right,” I said quickly. “I forgot.”

He examined my face while repeating, “You forgot,” in a way that said he didn’t believe me and in a way that said he either thought I was slightly unhinged or highly untrustworthy (or both).

“Uh…” I started to cover further, “I’m kinda freaking out about the elves being back after centuries, Frey. It slipped my mind.”

He stared at me. Then he whispered, “Right.”

Totally didn’t believe me.

So I covered more by smiling at him and I did it big. That worked. His eyes dropped to my mouth, his arms convulsed and the tension went out of his big frame.

I gave him a light push with my hands and said, “You better go. The cool-as-shit elves are waiting.”

That got me another hitch of one side of his mouth then he nodded and let me go.

When he did, I turned and looked around the room, saw his stuff tossed on a trunk and hurried to it.

He followed me and I handed him his sweater. He took it and pulled it on while I blathered.

“When you get back, I want to know everything. This is so cool. I love this. I can’t wait to hear what they have to say.”

“Finnie –”

I handed him his socks and cut him off. “No. Don’t say you can’t tell me. If you hear what they say and you can’t tell me, okay. But maybe you can. Don’t burst my bubble now. You can burst it later if you have to.”

He took his socks but didn’t put them on. He just stared at me.

Then he hooked me with an arm around my waist and I was suddenly plastered against his body and his mouth had crushed down on mine. He gave me a short, hot kiss (with tongues) then let me go.

Then he ordered, “Loft, wife, I’ll be back soon.”

I smiled at him and agreed, “Okay.”

Then I rushed to the ladder and up.

Once in, I stuck my head out and called to my husband as he tugged on his boots, “Have fun with the elves.”

His head tipped back and his eyes caught mine. Then he shook his head. Then he grinned.

I grinned back and slapped the curtains closed.

Then I rushed to the bed, sat cross-legged in the middle of it and listened to the door open and close.

Then I giggled.

Holy freaking moly! This world had elves and I was married to their lord, a man who, for some reason (magic?), didn’t suffer cold or heat.

How… freaking… cool!

This adventure was totally worth a million dollars.

Totally.