Rune nipped her. “What’s this all about?”
“We’ll talk later.” She turned to Fionn. “Let’s hunt. I need to stretch my legs. I’ll take this area.” She pointed off to her right. “You choose another. That way, we won’t nick one another by mistake with our magic.”
“See you in a bit, lass. Good hunting.” He melted into the forest.
She tried hard not to think. When she did, her brain drove in crazy circles, coming back to the same impossibilities every time, but without any answers. If she wasn’t careful, she found herself reexamining the things she’d found in Fionn’s mind. When she realized she wanted to spend more hours in what was a walking, breathing history lesson, she reined herself in.
The Old Ones have been around forever, so why not him? And Dewi…
Dewi was a fairy story.
Apparently not.
She wondered why the Old Ones had another name for the dragon thing, thought maybe Fionn might know, and turned toward home. Despite her musings, she’d managed to snag a marmot and a ridiculously fat raccoon. They had a strong gamey taste, but made excellent soups and stews. The dragon has two names. Fionn has a name right out of legend. I don’t even know Rune’s other name. Shit, am I the only one around here with a simple, normal name?
“Come on.” She clucked for the wolf. “Let’s go home.”
“I knew if I waited long enough, you would show yourself,” something chuckled from the shadows.
She twirled and dropped her game so she’d have her hands free to fight. “D’Chel?”
“Who else?” The god stepped from a grove of lodge pole pine, wearing his human form. “Nice that you were expecting me.”
Chapter Fourteen
Rune growled. Hackles rose the length of his back. His body vibrated with outrage where he touched her leg.
“Easy,” she cautioned him. “No heroics.”
D’Chel threw back his head and laughed. “By all means, keep your bond animal under control so I don’t have to kill him.”
She ground her teeth together. “Leave me alone.”
“Here I thought you wanted me.” Luminous eyes, copper this time, glittered against the moonlit night. Shiny, dark hair fluttered around him, moved by a gentle breeze.
“What did I ever do to make you think that?” Though she tried to infuse venom into the question, her voice came out high and squeaky.
“Last time, you sent your mate and animals away so we could be alone.” He smiled, perfect teeth nested in a strong jaw. A jab of sexual heat seared her.
“I sent them away so they’d be safe.”
“Oh, I see.” The lascivious grin widened. “You’re into sacrifice. I know some wonderful little games we could play. Besides, I like my women subservient.”
Her lips drew into a snarl, baring her teeth. “Never. I’ll die first.”
“Is that your choice?” He raised a hand lazily. “It’s all the same to me, human. There are many more where you came from. I simply thought your spirit might make things more…interesting for a change.”
“You can’t touch me if I don’t want you to. I proved that last time.”
“True. But I can kill you from where I stand.” Another jolt of lust stabbed her. Fluid gushed down her thighs, reminding her how sore her labia were. “We really could enjoy one another. Look how hot I make you from ten paces. Think what I could do if I were actually touching you.”
Memories of bone-chilling cold oozing from his hands rioted through her mind. Maybe he could kill her, but she was damned if she’d let him touch her again.
“Look.” He pulled his richly embroidered black robe open and stroked himself. She tried to look away, but couldn’t. His cock was mesmerizing. Perfectly formed, perfectly hard, perfectly beautiful…
Stop that! Just stop it. The fucking thing is cold and dead, just like the rest of him. It doesn’t matter what it looks like.
“Mmmm,” he purred, stroking a little faster. “If that’s the problem, I can make it warm just for you. Come touch me. See for yourself.” His hand worked harder.
Something in the air shifted. It felt as if he were stroking her as well. Aislinn fought against it with everything she had, but she came anyway, shaking all over. Fuck! Another “look, Ma, no hands” orgasm. Breath jangled in her throat.
He took a step closer, still working himself. A drop of semen glistened on the end of his cock. She yanked her gaze upward until she met his eyes: copper slits, glinting dangerously. Compulsion poured off him. If she didn’t do something right then to break his hold on her, she’d close the distance between them and give herself to him.