Last Dragon Standing (Dragon Kin #4)(143)

She fell back, her ass hitting the floor. And while rubbing her forehead, which seemed to have taken the worst of the impact, she scowled up at the big idiot in her way.

“Are you all right?” he asked, trying to sound so concerned.

“I’m fine.” He reached for her, and she slapped his hands away. “I don’t need your help, thank you very much.”

“Are you going to keep acting like this?”

“Yes.” Izzy stood. “You’re a prat. I knew you were a prat—I just didn’t realize the extent of your pratiness!”

“Fine. Be that way.”

Éibhear walked around her, and Izzy tossed out, “And nice move getting Celyn sent to your brother’s troops.” He stopped and faced her. “What are you talking about?”

“Like you didn’t know.”

“Celyn’s going to be in the Northlands? With me? Well, I’m going to end that centaur shit right now.”

She caught his arm before he could search out Fearghus. “Or you could stop this shit between you. I don’t need you watching out for me, Éibhear. I don’t need you beating up my lovers—”

“Never use that word to me again.”

“—or deciding who I can f**k and who I can’t.”

“We’re not having this conversation.”

“He’s your cousin,” she reminded him.

“And you f**ked him! ” Éibhear bellowed in her face.

Izzy was calm when she replied, “I did. More than once. And you’re not going to make me feel bad about that. But he’s your cousin. Don’t ruin what you have with your kin over something you can’t control. Which is namely me.”

She headed to her room, slamming the door behind her.

And Branwen didn’t even look up from the book she was reading when she gleefully stated, “I swear, you two have the best arguments.” Fearghus dashed across the room and yanked the small eating knife from his daughter’s hand, his son falling back on the bed laughing hysterically, as Annwyl finished turning around to show off the new gown Keita had chosen for her.

“It’s not bad, is it?”

“No.” Fearghus shook his head, probably more times than was actually necessary. “Not bad at all.”

“Are you all right? You look like you’re sweating.”

“Just seeing you in that dress has my blood surging.” Annwyl scowled, her gaze locking with her daughter’s. “Did she just snort?”

“No.” Fearghus placed his hand over his daughter’s giggling face and pushed her back to the bed next to her brother. “She probably just has a little sniffle.”

“You are such a bad liar. How did you ever convince me that you and the knight were two separate beings?”

“Probably because you never let me finish a sent—”

“It’s insane to even imagine it now—you’re such a bad liar.” Keita, who hadn’t quite managed to get any clothes on for this evening’s dinner, removed herself from Ragnar’s c**k and clambered across the bed until she faced him.

“What did you just say?” she demanded.

Covered in sweat and, well, covered in her, Ragnar lifted his head. “I said you should accompany us all to the Northlands as a Battle Maid.”

“Is that like a tent whore?”

“No. ” He closed his eyes, took a deep breath. Let it out. “It is an honored position among my people.”

“You sure this isn’t just a way for you to get me back to the Northlands and keep me busy with your c**k when you’re not out fighting the Irons, so that I’ll eventually stay with you forever?” Ragnar gazed at her, blinked once. “Of course not. Whatever gave you that idea?”

She pointed a finger at him. “Because I’ll give myself to no male. I don’t mind having a regular lover, but I’ll not become my mother. Chained to some male who adores me beyond all reason.”

“Because what female would want that?”

“Is that sarcasm?”

“What gave you that idea?” He motioned to his still hard, and deliciously thick cock. “Now would you mind getting back over here and finishing?”

“As long as we understand each other. I’ll come as your Battle Slag—”

“Battle Maid.”

“—but I’ll make no commitment beyond that. And I won’t be the winning prize of any Honours, my wings will never be threatened, and you won’t even think about scarring up my perfect, perfect body with flames or lightning or whatever it is your kind uses to brand your victims.”

“Mates.”

“Whatever.”

“I guess that’s fair enough.”

“I will not be Claimed, warlord. By you or anyone else.”

“Fine.”

Feeling confident she’d gotten her point across, Keita crawled back across the bed and on top of Ragnar. She caught hold of his c**k and positioned it underneath her, allowing her pu**y to slowly slide down until she’d taken him fully inside her once more.

Keita groaned, still shocked at how much she always enjoyed the feeling of Ragnar the Cunning sliding inside her.

Ragnar caught the back of her neck, big fingers massaging the muscles there. “But remember that while you are with me, princess—”