Fantasyland 01 Wildest Dreams (55 page)

Then I remarked, “I’m glad to be aboard
again. It means I get your beard back.”

I felt Frey’s body start behind mine and the
amusement in his voice when he asked, “What?”

I kept my eyes on the distance when I
repeated, “I get your beard back. I haven’t decided if I think
you’re more handsome with the beard or without it. I’m glad I get
it back so I’ll have another opportunity to try and figure it
out.”

This was true but it was also a lie because
I was never going to figure it out.

This got me another squeeze and a short, low
chuckle then, “Anytime you want it back, my Finnie, you only need
say. Shaving is a pain in the arse and I’m pleased to give it a
rest.”

“All righty then,” I agreed. “I’ll give you
a head’s up when I’m in the mood for whiskers.”

“My thanks,” he muttered, voice still amused
but something weighed on it, I could hear it, I could even feel
it.

I just didn’t know what it was.

Except I knew what it was for me.

The last two months had been perfect,
sailing south over the emerald waters of the Green Sea, the days
becoming warmer and longer, feeling the sun shining on my skin,
experiencing the fairytale beauty of Bellebryn and the breathtaking
fantasyland that was Hawkvale, making new friends, eating new
foods, working with Skylar and seeing progress as his tension ebbed
and his personality began to flow.

Not to mention, I’d gotten my first
bulls-eye.

And all of this happened with my gentle,
quick to smile, quick to laugh, handsome husband who I knew
enjoyed, just like me, the heat of the sun, the longer days, the
food, the vistas, the people and being with me.

And he made no bones about that.

As ever, he was often at his own tasks but
these were few when he didn’t have me close. And as our days slid
by and with it our time, nothing had cooled, nothing had faded, in
fact, everything, including the time we spent alone and naked,
heated, grew brighter, more intense.

All this, I told myself, meant Frey had to
love me.

He had to.

He just hadn’t told me.

And therefore I hadn’t told him.

And, considering we were again at sea, we
were again on the move, we were off to face whatever was next and
that weight still pulled at his tone, I wondered if it was because
he was waiting for me to say it so he could.

He was a virile, hot, action guy and
although he never shied away from demonstrations of affection, both
physical and verbal, maybe declaring his deep, abiding (for mine
was both so his
had
to be too)
love was a shade too far and he needed me to assure him that these
feelings were mutual.

But I was nervous at the thought of putting
that out there even though Frey gave me not one, single indication
I should be.

Still, I was.

But I shouldn’t be.

Nevertheless, I was.

Shit.

Shit!

I sucked in breath and let the emerald of
the sea and the green of the shore fill my vision.

Then I whispered to my husband, “We’re
breaking the cardinal rule.”

“The what?”

“The cardinal rule, the most important rule
there is, the one you never, ever break,” I explained.

“And what is this important rule we’re
breaking, wee Finnie?” Frey asked.

I studied the vista as I answered, “Dad
always said, never look back. Always look forward. Always look
where you’re going; never waste time on where you’ve been. You’ve
been there so you don’t have to take that time and wasting any
time, even a breath, is a mistake. Memories can be shared of the
good times but they need to be shared while your eyes are to the
horizon, faced forward. No matter where we went, when we left, he
didn’t let us look back. When I was young, he made a game of it. By
the time I grew older, I did it out of habit, never looking back,
not even a glance.” I pulled in a soft breath and finished, “And
now we’re looking back. Dad would be disappointed.”

I barely stopped speaking before Frey moved
me from the railing, turned me toward the helm and I heard him say
low, “Thad.”

Thad was at the huge, wooden wheel. He
looked over his shoulder at Frey, lifted his chin then looked to me
and grinned. I grinned back, he moved away and Frey moved in,
positioning me so I was standing with my back leaned into him then
his hands were at the wheel and the blue of the cloudless sky
meeting the brilliant emerald of the Green Sea with the lushly
greened islands rising out of the water
The Finnie
was flowing passed were all I could
see.

Then Frey’s mouth came to my ear. “Better,
my wee Finnie?”

I pressed my lips together as my throat
clogged because Frey had again, without word, without hesitation,
given me exactly what I needed and, receiving it yet again at long
last, I made an enormous decision.

I was going to tell my husband I loved
him.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, relaxed
into him and whispered, “Better, my handsome husband.”

Frey’s head moved so his lips could touch
the hair at the side of mine then it was gone but he wasn’t.

As always, his large, strong frame supported
my small one.

And together we stared straight ahead at our
future.

* * * * *

“Finnie,” Frey called, his voice thick and I
tried to focus on him.

I was on my back on his divan in his cabin,
my hands moving feverishly over his skin, my legs spread wide, Frey
thrusting between them, slow, gentle, his hips on a slight slant,
my hips slanted with them. He was on a forearm in the mattress
beside me; his other hand free to roam the skin of my side, belly,
ribs and right then it was cupping my breast.

I was close. So damned close.

“I’m close, baby,” I breathed as my gaze
locked with his.

“I know, love,” he whispered, his neck
bending, his mouth touching mine, gentle, light sweet, he pulled
back slightly, “Hold on, stay with me.”

I lifted my hips, he slid in deeper, that
felt so fucking good I told him the truth. “I don’t know if I
can.”

His hips rotated as he slowly slid out then
rotated again as he slowly slid back in and I bit my lip, arched my
spine and my nails trailed across the skin of his back.

“Stay with me, wee one,” he growled low,
exposing he liked it too and just how much. “I want us to climax
together.”

Oh God, yes.

I wanted that too. I wanted it bad.

“Okay,” I breathed and his mouth came back
to mine, opened and he touched the tip of his tongue to mine as his
thumb slid across my hard, oversensitive nipple and I whimpered
into his mouth.

“Baby,” I whispered against his lips, that
word trembling with agonized pleasure.

He glided out and glided back in. “Stay with
me.”

“Frey.”

“Watch me,” he urged, “feel me. You’ll know
when to let go. Wait for it, Finnie.”

My hips moved with his and the pleasure
rolled through me, then again, and again.

Beautiful

Torture.

God, he needed to hurry up!

My hand slid around his chest and up to
cup his jaw, my thumb moving to slide over his lower lip as he held
my eyes, his heated, his hips moving, his cock stroking deep, his
hand gliding along the skin of my ribs and all of it was better
than anything I’d ever had,
we’d
ever had.

Even with adela tea.

I moved my hips with his, slid my thumb back
over his lip and held his eyes as I whispered a thought that came
out of my mouth straight from my heart, “God, you’re
beautiful.”

At my words, Frey groaned so deep, I felt it
straight up to my throat starting at my sex. He dipped his head,
his thrusts going off rhythm, pounding deeper, moving faster, his
big hand spanning my hip, manipulating its movements to take him,
meet each stroke.

I circled his shoulders, pressed hard
against him, wrapped a calf around his thigh and I felt it in his
frame, in his flesh, he was there, I was there and we were going
there together.

And that was when I turned my head and
whispered, “I love you, Frey Drakkar.”

He buried himself to the root inside me, let
go and I let go, my back arching, my neck arching, my moan deep and
low. His strong teeth sunk into the flesh where my neck met my
shoulder, his rumbling growl sounding through his teeth, pounding
against my skin and my moan turned to a whimper as his arm wrapped
around me and closed so tight, he squeezed the breath out of my
lungs.

Yes, climaxing with Frey was better than
anything, even the adela tea. Perfection.

As I came down I held onto him, fighting for
breath but, unusually, Frey’s arm didn’t loosen.

“Frey –” I breathed.

“Say it again,” he growled against my skin,
so fierce, my body trembled but his arm, so tense, stiffened
further until it almost caused pain. “Say it again,” he repeated,
his voice now harsh.

“I love you,” I whispered, breathless but
his arm only got tighter, his cock still planted deep, his hips
bucked, thrusting it deeper and my body jolted as a residual wave
of heat burned through me.

“Again.” His voice was now beyond harsh,
this demand was abrasive.

“Baby.”

Another squeeze, another buck of his hips
and I whimpered.

“Say it, Finnie,” he grated.

I closed my eyes tight, fought for air and
pushed out, “I love you, Frey. I’m in love with you. So in love,
I’ll never stop loving you. Not ever. You, everything about you is
beyond my wildest dreams.”

He pushed his face into my neck as his arm
squeezed me even tighter for a second then it released and his hips
pressed mine to the bed as he lifted up on both forearms so his big
hands could frame my face on either side. His head came up and he
looked down at me, face soft, beloved brown-green eyes active,
stare intense.

And he did this for awhile. A long time,
actually, what felt like years and he did it without speaking or
moving. He just lay with his large body covering and connected to
mine and he stared at me.

Um… I wasn’t certain that was good.

“
Do you…” I pulled in a breath and with it
courage, “uh… do you… um, feel the same… uh, I mean,” I rushed to
finish, “like, not
the same,
the
same but… um, even a little bit?” I asked.

He stared at me another second that led to
two which led to three which led to four (I counted) before he
asked, “Are you mad?”

I didn’t know how to take that answer.

“Um… no?” I asked back because now he was
looking at me like he was convinced I was and his conviction made
me question mine.

Then his face dipped close, his hands put
gentle pressure on my head and he whispered, “Finnie Drakkar, I
fell in love with you when you told me you had a rule about dead
game on the kitchen table.”

I blinked and my body jolted with
surprise.

He couldn’t…

Could he?

Seriously?

“Seriously?” I whispered.

He didn’t answer my question, instead, he
stated, “No, it was before that, when I walked into the cabin to
see my wife in a pink gown with a pink ribbon in her hair looking
more beautiful simply stirring batter in a bowl than most women do
after their maidservants spend five hours on their appearance.”

Oh my God.

Oh my God!

What man remembered pink dresses and pink
ribbons? What man?

No man. None of them. None at all.

Except ones who witnessed these things while
falling in love.

Oh. My. God.

“Shut up,” I whispered but I didn’t know how
I did it since my throat was closing.

Frey grinned and replied, “It’s true.”

“That’s crazy.” I was still whispering.

“Indeed it is, my wee one, but it’s still
true.”

Oh my God.

“I’m going to cry,” I announced, my voice
trembling with the evidence that proved my statement true.

Frey’s grin became a smile and his eyes
warmed. “I see that, love.”

My breath hitched and a tear slid out of the
side of my eye before I demanded on a weak shove at his shoulder,
“You have to quit making me cry.”

He dropped his head and slid his nose along
mine as he muttered, “I’ll work on that.”

I looked at his olive green eyes close up
knowing without a doubt he was so totally not going to work on
that.

I held on tight and lifted my head, pressing
it into his neck. He rolled, disengaging our bodies but taking me
to the top where one of his arms stayed closed around me and his
other hand stroked my back as I wept softly in his neck.

I didn’t cry long because I thought of
something, pulled myself together, lifted up on a forearm in his
chest and looked down at him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.

“You did not know?” Frey asked back and I
blinked.

“What?”

His brows drew together and he studied me.
“Wee one, how could you not know?”

“I –” I started.

“It was clear as day,” he declared and I had
to admit, that was true. Mostly.

“You still could have told me,” I informed
him.

“
Indeed,” he stated and his arm gave me a
squeeze, “as
you
could have
done. Why didn’t
you
tell
me
you cared so deeply for
me?”

Shit. He knew I’d been holding back.

“Well,” I began, “it was clear as day.”

He grinned and muttered, “Right.”

“
Well it was!” I snapped because,
truthfully, it
was
and his grin
turned to body rocking laughter as he rolled me again so I was on
my back and he was pressed to my side looking down at
me.