“You know, you’re right.” My head bobbed in a nod as I stood up, dusting my hands off on each other. “I should run while the getting is still- Ack! Ah!” A cackle left me as Segrid let out an ugly growl and I found myself picked up and tossed onto the bed. I bounced and landed, finding a big ol’ Troll hovering over me as he boxed me in.
His grin was infectious. My hand lifted and my thumb swiped at the corner of his mouth, removing the bit of sun butter that remained. His eyes began to glow as I brought my thumb to my mouth and made a show of licking it off.
“MINE,” he rumbled out, cupping my face to capture my lips with his.
“Make me yours,” I entreated as we came up for air, lifting up to take his lips with mine. Mine, I thought, eager to claim my Ornthren bred male and be claimed by him again.
This was perfect, right.
Magicks sparked off of both of us, crackling so loudly we pulled apart to examine ourselves. Our runes flickered in tandem, a matched set.
“Now you’re the Queen Boss Bitch’s, Troll-squatch. What do you say to that?” My eyebrows raised challengingly.
“I say,” he growled out, eyes flashing hungrily as they ate me up, a wide hand cupping my breast as the other slid down my nightshirt and he began to glide it up my belly, “I will show you exactly what I think of my treasure.” His mouth dipped to my cupped breast and he captured and suckled at my nipple, until it was an aching, hard peak.
Lower, he taunted me with his open mouthed kisses, until I knew just what he wished to worship next.
He was right there now, his hot breath coasting over the top of my mound. I sucked my tummy in. Just kiss me already, I wanted to shriek. He was having fun drawing this out. His head dipped, his tongue following as his hand slid up my sex, spreading my lips, opening me to him. Thick lips closed over my clit, gently teasing the pearl he found there. My hips bucked, just a little, a deep rumble from my Troll vibrating my sex.
“More,” I muttered, grabbing at the furs beneath me, a soft moan leaving me as his tongue dipped, right at my entrance, and it began to enter me. That fat, thick appendage lapped at me, diving deep to slide back out, then do it all over again, until he had to pin me down to keep me from bucking upwards, smashing my groin into his face.
A deep, evil chuckle left my mate as he did what he would.
It was heaven. It was hell. He thought he was having fun now, and, damn straight I sure as shit was, but payback was going to be even sweeter when it was my turn.
“You know I’m going to get you back for this,” I panted out, thighs trembling as they tried to squeeze his fat head.
Pausing in his ministrations, he smirked against my heated flesh. “My Queen, I am counting on it,” and then the King of cunnilingus worked me until I was creaming all over his face, screaming his name.
Trolls were the best fucking mates ever.
Chapter 8
Vivienne
“Mmm. I dunno about this,” I hemmed and hawed.
“You can do it, my heart. I have all of the faith in you. But first,” he said reasonably, to my scowling annoyance and then him grinning in response, “you must try.”
“I’m scared,” I admitted, staring after him pleadingly when he backed up a few steps and held his hands out.
“You’ve no need. You are safe, my Vivienne.” His skin began to spark and pop, sizzling, the swirling runes he told me were our mating marks, the same ones that now curled up my arms and across my upper back, glowing until his fingertips crackled with Ornthren and Earth magicks.
“I’m not afraid for me,” I mumbled miserably. “I don’t want to hurt you…” My shoulders hunched as my foot lifted and I kicked a bit of dried, clumpy earth beneath my foot. It felt nice to have my own things mixed among his, the cozy cottage I’d come to think of as home an eccentric mix of Segrid and Vivienne exploded everywhere. The house in the Human realm would remain, a ward to protect it in our absence already set up around it thanks to my resourceful Troll of a mate. Troll-squatch had connections, and those he didn’t have, he acquired by whatever means necessary.
And thinking of connections… “He- Rez, has he called you back yet? Did he- Is the… you know who taken care of?” My voice lowered to a whisper, I had no idea why, rising as I spoke again. “Did he find some Mer people with magick abilities we could maybe talk to, like we were talking about?”
“I have left the messages on the number he had provided. I await a response to the latter. The former, hell doggy says, is taken care of.”
Staring down the length of my nose at him, blues eyes shining until they were shifted, Segrid grinned at the look on my face. I was on to him, trying to put me at ease with those good intentions and what not or whatever be damned.
“But,” I prompted, waiting.
My Troll King grunted, grudgingly grumbling, “But the asset shall require relocation, which he intends to, pending… agreement from a third party.”
“That whole shedemon bridal scheme crapped out,” I stated bluntly.
“I did not ask of this, BUT, my heart, Queen of my being, if it is not handled in a satisfactory manner of our mutual agreement and liking, I will take care of the rotter as I should have from the first,” he swore.
