Light My Fire (Dragon Kin #7)(121)

He was ruthless, the way he f*cked her. Ruthless and hard and unrelenting. What every Daughter of the Steppes demanded of a husband.

Elina’s eye opened in shock and some panic. She’d just thought of Celyn as a husband. Her husband. The thought frightened her and she tried to pull away, but his grip just tightened and his thrusts became harder still.

The second wave that had started earlier finally crashed over her. The pleasure of what Celyn was doing to her washed away any fear she had.

She had no idea how he felt, and couldn’t really care about it at this moment as she gave up temporary control of her body to him.

And he took that control, f*cking her hard until he’d ripped two more orgasms from her. Then, and only then, did he allow himself to come inside her, his entire body shuddering with the release as he held her tight.

When he was done, he gently lowered her left leg and brushed her hair from her face. He kissed her lips, her cheeks, her nose.

Then he removed her eye patch and kissed her scars and the lid that no longer had an eye behind it. They were soft, sweet kisses, and told Elina all she needed to know.

She pushed Celyn back, both of them gasping as his cock slipped out of her. She immediately noticed that, as always, he was still hard. A “dragon thing” he’d called it. A thing that Elina could easily live with.

She took his hand and led him toward the sound of moving water.

“What are we doing?” he asked.

She stopped, smiled up at him. “I have a cock to wash,” she said, going up on her toes to kiss his jaw and cheek. Then she whispered against his ear, “With my mouth.”

The dragon growled as she led him to the nearby stream.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Elina slid out of the bed they’d only made it back to a few hours before and quickly pulled on her clothes. She grabbed her bow and quiver and left the room silently so as not to wake Celyn.

She gently closed the door and was turning to head down the stairs when her sister’s door opened and the Northland boy was shoved into the hall. His clothes were balled up and held by one hand while the other hand managed to keep a blanket in front of his naked cock.

He opened his mouth to say something, but Kachka slammed the door in his face.

Elina watched the poor boy’s expression fall into dejected misery, and she worked hard to hide her smile. She walked up to him while he stood there, staring at that door like he expected it to open again. It wouldn’t. Not for him, anyway.

Elina placed her hand on his forearm, and the Northlander turned those intense grey eyes toward her. Yes. She could see what had attracted her sister—at least for the moment.

“It hurts now, I know,” she explained. “But trust me . . . what my sister just taught you in the last few hours will last you for centuries and have a horde of eager females scratching at your door, looking for good f*ck.” She grinned and patted his shoulder. “And a good f*ck you shall give them.”

She winked and headed off down the hall toward the stairs.

When Elina reached the Great Hall, she made her way to the table and grabbed a piece of fresh fruit from a bowl.

“You,” she heard behind her and turned to see Dagmar Reinholdt walking toward her, while Gwenvael the oh-so-yummy ran across the landing toward the stairs.

Pointing a finger at her, Dagmar demanded, “What did your Outerplains whore of a sister do to my nephew?”

“She made him man. Something these little Southland girls could not do for him. Fucked him raw based on what I heard through walls.”

Dagmar took an awkward, clumsy swing at Elina’s face that Elina managed to avoid simply by leaning back slightly. Before the Northlander could swing again, Gwenvael caught his mate from behind and pinned her arms to her sides.

That’s when Elina realized that Dagmar Reinholdt was a damn lucky woman. With only his leggings and boots on, Gwenvael the Handsome was the epitome of male beauty. Especially with all that long, golden hair and those rippling muscles. His face was angular perfection. Honestly, Dagmar was lucky Kachka hadn’t dragged him off to her bed last night. Elina had no idea whether either Dagmar or Kachka was considered pretty by these vapid Southlanders, but Kachka definitely had more to offer. She was a very good provider and protector; could give a punch as well as take one; and would always put food on the table thanks to her hunting skills.

Could Dagmar Reinholdt, a weak, Northlander female, say the same? Elina doubted it. Not to say this woman didn’t have her own particular talents, but only in the Southlands was sneaky plotting considered a useful skill.

Gwenvael pulled his mate away while Elina watched them and ate her delicious fruit.

“You should be happy,” Elina informed the foolish woman when she saw that the Northlander’s anger wasn’t abating. “Yesterday he was boy with only worthless girls that took ride on cock. Today he is man. Now you can get several oxen and quite a few horses for his large Northland shoulders and for what my sister taught him in the bed.”

“Keep your sister away from my nephew!” Dagmar snarled.

“My sister got what she wanted from him,” Elina calmly explained. “She no longer wants your nephew.”

Gwenvael shook his head and lifted his mate off the floor, stumbling back a few steps. “You are not making this easy, Elina.”

“I am honest. I do not know other way to be.”