Once I parked it, he gently scooted my chair in. With a satisfied noise in his throat, his fingers brushing my shoulder as his hands fell away, he went to the kitchen.
Resisting the urge to swing my feet back and forth under the table, one of my nervous-excited tells, I bit my lip. Looking for a direction to shift my attention, almost overwhelmed in the large male’s space, in his presence, I gave a sniff, then coughed to cover it up.
The place positively reeked of him.
Woodsy met earthy, the hint of pine clean freshness as if he’d recently washed the hardwood floors with pine needle soaked water, his space was clean, very clean, almost too clean, yet homey. One hit of that powerful Eau de Troll King and my libido went into orbit. I nearly squirmed in my seat. It wasn’t from nerves.
He’d invited me into his space. No. He’d taken me into his place, like a possessive brute. My skin prickled and I shivered. I loved me someme man, my woman, possessive Alphas type romances. They were my dirty, guilty pleasure. I had an ereader full of them back home. What if he just took me on the table...? Hard and fast, then maybe sweet and slow. Oh god. My throat worked until I could remember to swallow. Jeesh—I was a jumbled mess.
The lady-over-the-shoulder tossing oaf had accepted my offer in his van. There went my heart beating hard again.
My hands slid under the table. I folded them and shoved them between my thighs, squeezing them as my legs pressed together. Could he smell how I was feeling about all this? Of course he could. A part of me enjoyed the idea, while the other cringed. What did he think of it? Of me? The deep rumble he let loose as he washed his hands, his back to me, had my legs pressing harder, until my hands were mashed between them. My face flushed a soon-to-be-splotchy red.
My sex ached, nipples hard, pressing against my oversized nightshirt. I was still in my clothes from the night before, sweatpants, thick socks and all.
An enormous bed sat in the far corner of the open space. It looked like it was fashioned by woodland fae. Twisting branches and vines wound around large bedposts, furs piled high for bedding. Woodland fae had a buttload of Earth magicks, or so I’d been led to believe. I took anything a tooth fairy said with a grain of salt. Oddballs even for their kind, that lot were. Damn, that bed looked sturdy.
There was a strange, instant warmth that filled the room and made it comfortable, even if there was no hearth lit or visible source of warmth to foster it. Tiny little funny colored smooth rocks sat in a brazier on the mantle over the fireplace, lit with a strange glow. Could that be the source?
The table and kitchen were melded into one large combined space, a small stove, the table I sat at and the thick as heck chair I sat in. There was a water pump handle faucet that made me want to give it a go, just to try it out, with a large metal wash basin beneath it. The deep sink was mounted near a short but wide, glossy, glassy looking black countertop with a small pop out window overlooking the forest of a backyard and beyond. Wood and the same glass that made the countertops accented the place. I’d ask if he’d intended it that way but it might give away my growing interest.
Did I like his place, I thought. No, I loved it, adored it. I wanted to curl up in the thick armchair near a small end table along the wall the bed’s headboard rested on, pick through the fat stack of books overtaking the dark wood top, grab one of the crocheted blankets settled over the back of the chair, and make myself right at home.
I had to wonder where the fridge was as he turned to me, a fat, speckled, deep red and black, thickly glazed, glossy mug in each hand. His head tilted as he studied me. A question in his eyes, thick, furry red eyebrows lifted. “What would my lady have?” When I smirked a little and my gaze started to roam down his person, he cleared his throat, adding with a hoarseness to his voice that made me smirk, “To drink.”
“Hmm?” Pretending I wasn’t paying attention, forcing him to repeat himself, I waited, lips twitching as I forced my smirkish smile into submission.
“I would think you mean to tease me-” he started to snarl, to pause as if catching himself. A wee bit of disappointment hit me. Just how far could I tease the male until he broke? I liked when he got kinda beastly.
Comfortable and starting to slip free of the stiffness that normally rode me, in such an intimate setting, impeding on someone’s privacy, their hearth, so thoroughly, I surprised myself with the things that popped into my head. I wanted to get to know him. No, I needed to. In every way imaginable.
“A drink, sweeting?” Segrid murmured. His eyes had darkened, royal purple with bolts of lavender.
“Sweeting, huh?” I teased. He called any female sweeting. My smirk was back, looking a little feral. I was sweeting now, a generic endearment for everyone, a blind response. My eyes narrowed as my lips began to purse.
Setting down one of the cups, throat muscles working, a thick finger hooked the collar of his tunic and gave it a tug.
“Hot?” I said suddenly, leaning forward, settling my weight on my elbows. My middle finger popped forward, making swirling patterns on the tabletop. Maybe it was afuck you, dude, or maybe I was flirting... My host had the right of it as his chest rumbled and he swallowed thickly.
“Yessss.” That one word came out long, ending on a sibilant hiss. The Troll blinked, jerked back, realizing just then he’d suddenly lurched toward me and was a few steps away from me. And with him, he brought that wild, heavy, woodsy earth scent. I wanted to inhale deeply but withheld. What was wrong with me? Who was this boldly sexual, wish she was even remotely sensual, woman? Yet nothing felt wrong about the way I felt about him.
The notion that I might actually scare the male off if I kept acting so hot and cold on him, churlish and then inviting, he might just decide to be done with me altogether, I tried to get a hold of myself.
As if noticing the change in me, he blinked, then stared at me as if he could physically see me throw my mental shutters down, then he flinched, and his eyes slammed shut. And when he opened them again, that deep purple flooding his irises lightened. The change in his eyes matched the change in him, all the wild color flooding those wide peepers just moments ago muted, subdued. I felt like he’d just dulled himself down—not that that was an easy feat—the male was larger than life and brimming with that supposed sunshine he claimed I was—on my account. Gah. Toned himself down much as I just had.
“What- Uh- What, uhm, what do you have to drink?” I ventured tentatively. I sounded unsure, timid, a world away from the me of moments before. It took several tries for me to get the words out. We were supposed to be eating and drinking, but all I wanted to do was drag the male to his large bed and have at him. He’d threatened to bite me back when I’d nipped his hand in the back of his van on our trip to the wolves’ pad. He’d hinted he might just like it and he gave as good as he got. Hell yeah.
In all of this, all I was managing to do was make everything awkward for both of us. It had started out simple enough, blood bind him to you and hope it worked. One touch, one taste, I couldn’t settle for simply that. I wanted it all.
I’ve gone positively and absolutely mad for a Troll. I let that sink in. It settled over me much nicer than I could have anticipated, with a strange certainty this was the way it was meant to be. He wasn’t just any male. He was strong in all the ways I felt weak. He lent me some of that inner strength. He didn’t balk at my bark. I feltmorearound him. He was sensitive when I felt the brute. The male caught on quickly. I’d be lying if I said I felt as if I could take on anything with him bolstering me, but I was pretty damn close to that. I could handle just about anything with Segrid near, maybe evenhim.
Giving in to the urge for just one tiny hit of Segrid’s scent, one long, careful sniff and I nearly lost it. My hands slid to the table and I flattened them out, the only thing keeping me upright and in my seat as his unique scent filled me and my head spun. I wanted to lunge at the male. A soft noise rent the air, a low, needy groan. My hand smacked my chest and my eyes widened. That came from me?
Segrid paused and cocked his head.
My heart started to pound wildly. Distraction. I needed a distraction. The urge to cup my hand over my mouth had my hand lifting, but just as fast I shoved it under my leg and sat on it. Keep it together, Viv! What was wrong with me?!
The room. Admire the room some more. Yes. Good idea.
