Broken Dove (Fantasyland #4)(144)

I studied his handsome face as thoughts leaked into my brain, thoughts that then leaked out of my mouth.

“Are there others with powers such as yours, bidding the wolves?” I asked.

“Outside Frey and some men who practice sorcery, thus are trained to wield power, no.”

That said a lot. At least to me.

“So, has it occurred to you,” I began quietly, “that it would seem that all the men in this scenario, the husbands of the women from my world, have special things about them? Frey with his dragons and elves. Lahn with his might. Tor, chosen for whatever reason to have his soul connected to Cora. You and your wolves?”

He held my eyes and his fingers stopped moving and tangled in my hair.

“Yes,” he answered.

“Lo—”

“We are all special, Maddie.”

He was right about that.

Save one.

Me.

On this thought, I dropped my head so I could press my face in his neck and his arms wrapped around me tight.

“You are safe,” he stated firmly.

I was.

Because he made me be with him, his men, his wolves.

“You are safe, my dove,” he repeated, quieter but just as firmly.

“I know, baby,” I whispered and fell silent.

After some time, he rolled us to our sides and snuggled me closer.

“Enough talk. We have another long ride tomorrow. Now you must sleep, poppy.”

“Okay, Lo.”

He gave me a squeeze.

I nestled in and closed my eyes.

Apollo fell asleep before me.

And when I slept, I dreamed of wolves, black mist and disembodied beaks pecking at me.

Thus I woke up fatigued and restless. And even waking with Apollo’s hands moving on me, knowing all around me were special, adventurers and Raiders, warriors and warrior queens, lovers with interconnected souls, soldiers who commanded wolves…and then there was me, I woke still feeling empty.

* * * * *

Five evenings later, I had one hand to the headboard, one hand between my legs and both of Apollo’s hands at my br**sts, rolling and tugging my ni**les.

Apollo was f**king my ass.

And, believe it or not, I loved it.

Every freaking stroke.

“Baby,” I breathed.

He kept f**king me. “Do not cl**ax, Madeleine.”

“Honey, I’m about—”

He stroked in, filling me, a strange and brilliant feeling, especially since it came after he made me lie still while he touched me, then spanked me while he f**ked me normally, then he oiled me and finally, when I was primed, slowly took me.

He tugged on my ni**les. “You cl**ax at my command.”

Oh God. That was hot.

“I’ll try,” I gasped.

He started stroking again. “This is all I ask, poppy.”

He kept going and I kept moaning, touching myself, struggling to hold back my orgasm. The fight was making my muscles quiver and my fingers that were wrapped around the headboard dug in so hard I thought I’d break it with my hand.

“So beautiful,” he grunted, plunging in.

God.

“So beautiful, Maddie,” he rumbled. “Gods, I wish you could watch you taking me.”

God!

He stroked in and pulled out, declaring in a thick voice, “We’ll get a mirror.”

“Baby,” I whimpered, his words driving me to the edge and I wasn’t going to be able to hold it.

He knew it and ordered gruffly, “Take me yourself, poppy, then take yourself there.”

He’d slid out. I only had the tip so I pushed back, taking him at the same time coming apart as my orgasm shook through me.

When it did, Apollo hauled us down the bed and pressed in so I was on my belly, all of this with me still taking him. As my orgasm continued to shudder through me, he kept f**king me before he pulled out and I heard his deep groans. I knew he’d slid off the sheath he’d put on when I felt him come on my ass.

So.

Totally.

Hot.

“Arse up for me, dove,” he murmured after he’d lifted his weight from me, and I shivered as I slid my knees up under me.

He rubbed his “seed” into my delightfully sore ass and I closed my eyes, my thighs quivering as the intimacy of that, the sexiness poured over me making me warm and hot again, all at once.

His thumb slid between my cheeks, coming to rest lightly on my anus and he whispered, “Okay?”

“Totally,” I whispered back.

I felt his hand curl around my hip, fingers digging in in an affectionate squeeze, as his thumb did some soothing circling. Then his hands left me, only for him to come back with a cloth. He wiped himself from me, the cloth was gone and his hands were back, gently moving me so I was on my back and he was between my legs.

Then he surprised me by bending and kissing my belly and as he was sliding down the bed, his eyes came to mine and he murmured, “Rest, my dove. You giving me that deserves a reward.”

The minute he was done saying that, he draped my legs over his shoulders, dipped his head and gently, slowly, amazingly, beautifully ate me until I came again, my legs pressing into his shoulders, my heels in his back, my cries quiet but forceful.

By the time I came down from that one, I found myself on top of him, one of his arms wrapped tight around my back, the other hand cupped on my bottom, the tips of his fingers pressed into the inside curve of my cheek, soothing, claiming, possessive.