Fantasyland 01 Wildest Dreams(120)

I did not partake of drugs, this was an adventure Mom and Dad warned me (repeatedly) was not worth risking.

But this was the bark of a beautiful tree. It was natural. It wasn’t drugs… exactly.

Shit!

There was another thump outside and I jumped yet again, looking to the door. After several moments with no Frey I decided to suck it up.

It was now or never.

And I lived in the now… with Frey.

I grabbed the infuser, poured the tiny, glittery, gorgeous pieces of bark into it, shaking the pouch to make sure they were all out. Then I screwed the infuser closed, dropped it into the cup and poured over the steaming water. Then I waited, staring at it wondering how long it should infuse. Then wondering if I should wait for Frey before I tried it.

Then I took hold of the little chain, dunked the infuser several times and watched with fascination as glitter flowed out of the infuser, permeating the liquid and making the water in the cup actually glow.

Yes… glow.

Totally freaking cool.

I pulled the infuser out, set it aside and after taking a deep breath, before I lost my nerve, I lifted the cup to my lips and took a sip.

Holy moly!

I stared into the glowing cup.

Heaven. Absolutely divine.

I took another sip tasting licorice and peppermint with hints of vanilla.

God, celestial.

Taking another sip I decided that the gods of this world had to exist. No other being could create something so heavenly.

On sip four, I felt it start and on sip five it grew stronger. I knew it because I was no longer tasting the tea, I was feeling it. The flavor had intensified to such an extent it was a thrill simply experiencing it. Sip six brought more, the coolness of the air in the cabin started stinging my skin, the drafts gliding across were almost physical. The shine on the brass on the instruments on the walls had grown so bright, it was nearly blinding. I could feel every centimeter of the handle of the cup weighing on my fingers. I could hear the men moving about on deck above me.

Wow. This stuff worked fast and it was awesome.

Sip seven and I’d had half the cup. I wanted more, it was delicious, divine, freaking bliss in liquid form but I forced myself to set the cup down to save the second half for Frey.

Then the warmth slid through me, starting right in my sex and slinking up, down and out until it heated me from top-to-toe, every inch of my skin, every centimeter of my innards. The warmth was so intense I had to put my hand to the table to hold myself steady because I thought my legs might buckle from under me.

It didn’t freak me out because the sensation was nowhere near scary.

It was beautiful.

So beautiful, so intense, so pervasive, I felt like I was going to overheat.

God, if Frey didn’t get to the cabin soon, I was going to have to take care of myself.

And I knew I’d enjoy every… freaking… second.

I heard his boots on the steps outside and my feet moved me directly to the door. They did this because suddenly my hands itched to touch him, my tongue was dry with the need to taste him, my stomach was hollow with hunger for him and my sex ached for his to fill it.

And because of this, he barely closed the door when I was all over him, pressing close, my hands gliding up his chest to curl around the back of his neck. In position, I insistently pulled his mouth down to mine.

“Fin –” he got out which was good, perfect, his mouth was open and since my lips were there, my tongue slid inside.

Oh yes. Ho boy. Yes.

I had my answer. I’d never tire of the taste of him, ever.

I felt his hands on my hips and the touch was light but it burned into me and felt so freaking good I moaned into his mouth.

That mouth tore from mine as he shuffled me in a few steps and I pulled on his neck to bring him back.

“Wee one, what on –?” he asked but something caught his attention, he glanced beyond me briefly then did a double take, his head jerking to look back at the table.

Then he looked down at me, his eyes locked on mine and he studied me intensely as his arms glided around me, pulling me close.

I bit my lip at the touch of his hard body against mine and wondered if he’d be put off if I started tearing off my clothes (and his) when his head bent and his face got close.

His voice was a low rumble that reverberated through me, causing my knees to go weak (and a variety of other things, all so fabulous they were nearly tortuous), when he asked, “That cup, Finnie, it glows. Have you drunk of the adela?”

I pressed closer, my lids had lowered, I was trying to focus on not pressing my mouth to his (or pressing it other places) but instead answering his question and also assessing his reaction to this idea and I whispered, “The girls gave it to me. Uh… to us.”

He stared at me for a second that seemed to last five hours then both his hands were suddenly on either side of my head, he tipped it back and thank God, thank God, thank God, God, God, he was kissing me, hard, deep with lots and lots of tongue.