Grizzly (11 page)

Moving back, feeling as if he had left her with no escape, her next words were stuttered out again.

“Look, just because I was swoony over you in high school doesn’t mean I will let you, just, well...” she paused.

Should I say fuck me? Because I kind of want him to fuck me.

“So you call smelling like heaven and honey twenty-four seven, and pushing every button I have day and night...swoony?” he growled.

She gulped as he prowled closer and she retreated. The chase, small as it was, excited her. Feeling her body get warm as sweat beaded onto her flesh, the cool air brushed against her and she realized they were outside, on the balcony.

Trapped like a...bird.

Looking for escape, scanning over his shoulder, she really questioned why she wanted to flee him. He’d already finger-fucked her into oblivion earlier. But this, this was sex. She had never had sex. God, she was so stupid and inexperienced.

As her thoughts tumbled over one another he had reached her fully. His fingers gripped her hips, and growling into her face, he spun her. Her palms slapped against the balcony. Tethur’s hands were all over. Cupping her breasts, smoothing down her tummy, one hand cupped her mound as his face nuzzled against her neck. The hot bulge of his dick pressed into her lower back and she sucked in a breath. Sorscha’s head fell back as she pressed her body further against his.

So much for standing strong.

“I want you naked, now, little bird,” he rumbled against her neck.

His tongue flicked out, his teeth nipped. She yelped when she felt his sharp canines.

‘No bite marks.’ Eridor’s words echoed through her mind and she let out a deep moan.

She could feel her clit swollen to the point of aching between her soft cunt lips.

Not making a move to strip, she didn’t need to. His fingers slipped into the tops of her pants and peeled them from her body. Her ass exposed, he snarled and nipped at each cheek.

“Oh, fuck me,” she purred.

His rumbled laughter vibrated over the back of her thighs.

“I plan on it,” he promised.

Sorscha stepped from the pants. Tethur’s hot, callused palms smoothed up her legs and hips, his fingers digging into the giving flesh of her flared curves. He snarled and growled. Sorscha quickly realized this was approval. She felt pride and hunger course through her veins sweeter than life itself. His hand moved up under the tight vest that fitted over her top half and he lifted. She helped, her arms coming up as he slipped the top over her head.

Her breasts bounced free. The heat of the moment spiked her nipples. His huge hands quickly covered them. The size of her own large mounds was no match for his palms. He rubbed the rough surface against her nipples and she nearly purred against him. She thrust her ass back, grinding into his body. She snarled, plucking at her tender little nubs before trailing a hand down and cupping her wet, hot cunt.

“Please. God, please,” she begged.

His laughter of amusement jarred her out of her haze. Sorscha turned her head to the side, moaning lightly. William moved on her quickly. Taking advantage of her exposed neck, he sucked and nipped at her tender skin.

Sorscha’s fingers curled against the icy edge of the balcony. She could hardly focus on the majestic beauty of the view before her. No. All she felt was his body curving over hers. The thrust of his powerful hips lodged his cock between her thighs. With a slow, methodical movement, his tongue dragged down the curve of her neck, just as his thick, pulsing girth parted the weeping folds of her cunt.

“Holy shit!” she cried out.

“Mm,” he rumbled against her cheek. “So wet. Is all that wetness just for me, little bird? Are you going to come all over my cock?”

His vulgar words washed over her and she was liquid. She was a mess of melted woman as he thrust lazily against her pussy. His dick slowly dragged back and forth, pressing against the seeping opening of her cunt. Her hips started to thrust and she growled.

“Yes, fuck my dick, little one. Take, own me.” His voice has become hoarse and broken.

She felt his pulse against her tender flesh. He never entered her. The flared head pumped against her tender clit, each time taking her higher, then pulling back. Both hands cupped her breasts, pinching her nipples and rolling them between his fingers. He didn’t rush; the man savored her.

The rise inside her sat at the peak. Tethur knew how to draw her close, and then stop her.

“God, please, I need...” she trailed off. That soft drag of his cock against her clit knocked the air from her and she was panting, moaning, crying out his name.

“What, little bird? Tell me what you need,” he whispered against her ear.

“I need it,” she cried.

“Need what? Say it. I want to hear it. Tell me, I want to hear it.” He stopped moving and she screamed out.

Sorscha struggled to thrust. Tethur’s hands on her hips held strong and her fight was useless.

“Say it.” he demanded.

“I want to come all over your cock!” she wailed.

“Good girl,” he rumbled before thrusting against her harder.

He never pressed inside her, just allowed her to ride the length of his dick. She was lifted to her toes and he started to pound against her. His groin slammed into her ass and he ground so her clit took more pressure. The orgasm rose inside her, and she knew what it felt like now. The need, the heat, the frantic drive to reach that peak clung to her and she slammed her palms against the balcony.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, there, please, oh shit, God,” she cried.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she heard him curse, and then he stopped moving. The orgasm tickled her womb and spread through her clit and stopped.

Sorscha screamed his name and pushed back, but he was gone.

“NO! FUCK! NO!” She started to melt to her knees but strong arms locked around her waist and she was pulled into the powerful comfort of his chest.

Pressing her face into his powerful pectorals, she whimpered.

“Why, God, why, Tethur?” she whimpered.

“I’m sorry, little bird. We can’t. I mean...” He paused. Sorscha looked up at him and saw the pain and hunger reflected back at her.

He leaned down and took her lips in a kiss so demanding, so claiming, she lost her legs and he swept her up into his arms. Walking them back into the room, he set her on the bed carefully.

Still gazing down at her, he brushed his finger over her moist cheek. Sweat had beaded all over her body in anticipation of her orgasm—that never came.

“I’m sorry. They are here. We need to go.” He leaned over and brushed his lips over hers. He gazed down at her, a wicked gleam in his eyes and that sexy smirk. “Gods, you are going to come so hard when I get a hold of you again,” he promised.

Pulling away from her, he winked. “Get dressed, Sorscha. We need to go.”

He was gone, she was trembling, and then she was pissed.

“That fucking bastard of a big ole’ grumpy bear.” She fisted the sheets and screamed at the top of her lungs. “Fuck you!”

––––––––

T
he mountains in the distance resembled a jagged blade. Ryken brought his horse to a stop, the other three pulling up beside him.

“Seriously, a castle made of ice. I mean yes, it’s impressive, but surely it’s gonna melt,” Diarmait said, looking down at the valley.

“So long as she stays there it will flourish around her. It will never melt,” Ryken added.

“Well, I guess that’s all right then.”

“What is that damn bird that’s been following us?” Óengus spoke, looking up, shielding his eyes from the glowing sun.

“No doubt a spy of Dubheasa. She’ll be using it to see who came through the mirror. Its eyes are hers.” Ryken looked to the giant raven on his forearm. It weighed a ton. “Why don’t you go up there and pester it, Muirch?” It cawed loudly, tipping its head sideways, the big black eye catching the shadowy spy high in the sky.

“Yes, go on, Muirch. Go tip him out of the sky. He’s getting on my nerves,” Domnall ordered, no doubt hoping the raven would.

“Not yet. Let him stew up there. It’s not as if the dark bitch doesn’t know already. Let her see what she wants to see and let the bitch worry her pretty dark head off.” Domnall shifted in his saddle.

Ryken looked to Muirch, the shifted Muirchertach Mac Ercae. The king preferred his other self, unlike the others, who mostly considered their beast a curse. Muirch enjoyed the freedom and had formed a special bond with Ryken, a warlock of repute and great age.

Diarmait pulled his bow from his back and nocked an arrow. “I reckon I can hit it from here.”

“Don’t you dare. Let the bitch Queen see what we want her to see.”

“And what will she see, Ryken?”

“Tethur Mac Cecht.”

The four of them grinned in unison.

“I thought Tethur would be the last to cross─with the exception of Slaine maybe.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because of his damned pride. The man must be as grumpy as fuck knowing he’s the first. It will niggle his big furry bear ass like nothing else.”

Muirch cawed again, louder this time as if laughing along.

Ryken felt a power in the air. It caressed the breeze around him, and it felt good to know war was coming. It was why these men existed, to fight and to kill.

Óengus Olmucaid was known as the wolf because of the huge beast he became when enraged. Domnall Mac Áedo, the shortest of the High Kings, was the bull, a large beast with great horns, adept at killing with his weight and sharp points. Diarmait Mac Cerbaill, the black boar, his beast reflecting his ability to strike his enemy with weight, speed and killer tusks. Ryken was indeed in great company.

Yet these great Celts preferred their true existence, large powerful warriors who could kill as in olden times with large blood axe and double-edged swords. In human form they were truly in their element.

“Well, let’s go see the old sod, see what he knows,” Domnall suggested.

Without agreeing, the four horsemen started down the hill. Soon enough the horses started to complain as the ground became hard frost, then ice.

“Bastard cold, how in god’s name are we expected to cross this without falling on our arses and our horses’ rumps?” Diarmait rattled as he looked down, steering his unhappy steed the best he could.

“Hold on. Muirch, go scout the enemy, count them and return, quickly now!”

The huge raven lifted and opened its wings, stretching to twelve feet or more from tip to tip. He ascended quickly, rising above the ugly spy watching over them, buzzing him with a threatening screech. Within a minute he was gone from sight.

“So, warlock, about this ice.” Domnall raised his brow.

“Far from me to go up against the ice Queen. Not polite.”

“Fuck polite, I’m not breaking my arse on that shite.”

“Why, you look good flat on your backside, short arse.” Óengus started to wind him up.

“Enough, we may not need to.” Ryken pointed to the castle, still over a mile away. Outside the gate walked the Queen. She raised her arms and before they knew it the ice exploded, filling the air with a cool mist that fell as powdery snow.

“Well, I guess it’s an improvement.” The horses didn’t seem to mind as they moved on. As they neared the castle the bulk of Tethur appeared, walking with his usual heavy gait.

“Bastard hasn’t aged a minute. Good to see the old bear.” Domnall nodded.

“Don’t start with the old sentimental bullshit. It’s only been, what, twenty-three years or so,” Diarmait answered back. “It takes longer to piss in the wind.”

“Aye, well, some of us piss with it, not against it.”

The bear closed, a grin spread across his face.

“Well, well. Are you gonna stay on your nags or are you gonna greet your old bear?”

“Nags, cheeky bastard, you’re going to get a good back slapping for that.” Diarmiat jumped down, almost starting to run. Ryken watched as they slammed into each other, hugging and slapping each other’s backs like long-lost brothers. The rest dismounted and joined in. Ryken went last, soaking in the moment.

“Hey, warlock, come hug the bear.”

“Well, at least you’re dressed this time. Last time you got pissed at us and hugged us naked.”

“Well, if you want I can...”

“Don’t bloody bother. Come here.”

Tethur almost crushed him, but Ryken didn’t mind. He was glad to see the old grump.

“How’s the kid?” Ryken asked.

“Grown up and all woman.”

“So you fuck her yet?” Óengus asked with a wry grin. “If so I want details.”

“Tough shit. She’s only just got used to the fact I’m a big bad bear.”

“I doubt it’s that putting her off. It’s the size of your cock, Tethur.” Óengus winked. “Admit it, though. You’ve tasted the honey, haven’t yer?”

Tethur tapped the side of his nose.

“Yeah yeah, you’ve licked the fruit.” The others simply shook their heads at Óengus’s crudeness.

“So, Ryken, any news?” Tethur asked. “The elves say there are a thousand orcs nearby. We were attacked by Osmaldis and orcs at the house. That’s why we had to come across.”

As the snow fell, the flurry increasing in intensity, Muirch dropped down from the sky.

Ryken held out his arm. The two of them had a telepathic link. Muirch opened his beak and bobbed his head to Tethur, who nodded and grinned at the old king.

“Over three thousand, give or take a few, stags have joined them, a few other misfits, walking dead orcs, dark magic. Why make new ones when you can resurrect the dead?”

“So just the five of us and an innocent princess against three thousand.” Tethur sniffed, twitching his nose.

“Yup.”

“Not bad odds at all. We better go get some food in us. The chase could be hectic. Come on. Oh, and the elves are especially sarcastic in this place. Just grit your teeth and let any crap talk go over your heads. They are allies, after all.”

Ryken got on his horse amidst under-breath groans and swearing. Muirch bounced onto his shoulder. He waited and followed the others, led by Tethur on foot, entering the ice cold castle and the realm of the ice Queen.