There were shouts outside their bedroom, footsteps pounding on oak floors and then the door, but she and Ethan were sheltered at the center of the storm. Static crackled. Electricity arced.
He released the dowels and clamped his fingers on her buttocks. They broke the kiss as the storm heightened, clouds stealing through the open window to push against the ceiling, flashes of light brightening and then darkening in their misty depths.
In the back of her mind, she knew what was happening. Knew there was danger. Knew this was impossible. She’d already been claimed. She’d already mated, and yet here they were at the center of the new storm, a binding that echoed through the ether and heralded a new beginning.
A new beginning with a new mate and a resounding stamp of approval from the Powers That Be. Bryn decided to let go of any doubts she’d held about what they were doing. She’d trust in the Goddess and the demon watching her so closely now.
She smiled, loving the curve of his mouth as he stared up at her. He moved his hands from her hips to her breasts and fondled the pendant dancing between her breasts—the mother symbol, bloated with child. Bryn closed her eyes, breathing harder when he moved to tweak her nipples, pulling and pinching the tips, drawing them into exquisitely aroused points before smoothing downward again.
The roar of voices in the distance receded as she bent and braced against his chest. His bruising grip lifted her and shoved her downward, again and again. They pushed together, drew apart, catching the rhythm of their heartbeats, the pace of their deepening breaths.
Below, her sex clenched around him, ripples moving up and down her inner channel, caressing him, accepting him, gripping him and holding him inside her.
She dug her fingertips into his skin. “I’m there,” she whispered.
“We’ll soar together,” he said, his voice deep, echoing around her. “Once bound, we’ll never part.”
He’d said the words. She had no time to gasp. He rolled them and came over her. Quickly, he shoved up her legs, forced her ankles to lock behind his neck and then he took over, pistoning inside her, faster and faster.
Tears leaked down her cheeks, her hands roamed his face, touched his shoulders. How could this be? This perfection, this brilliant storm. When the moment came, she dug the back of her head into the pillow and screamed as licking fire and static flooded her body and blackness closed around her.
Ethan sagged against her as his balls clenched and he emptied himself inside her.
A thud sounded against the door. He lowered her legs and covered her with his body.
The frame gave, the door splintered, and Renner and Khan fell through the opening, the women and more of his men crowding into the room to stare at the clouds now dissipating, wisping away.
Darcy shoved past Renner and stood with her hands on her hips, glaring at Ethan, her glance going to Bryn’s slackened features. “What the hell have you done?”
Ethan raked a hand through his hair and leaned on an elbow to allow Bryn to breathe more easily. “She’s mine. Claimed. Blessed by your Goddess. There can be no arguing my right.”
Darcy’s eyes filled and dropped to Bryn. “Is she even breathing?”
Bryn’s sex pulsed around his cock, a sexy caress that caused him to stir inside her again. An aftereffect, he knew. She was still unconscious. “She breathes.”
Renner shook his head. “Well, if they didn’t know where we were before, the council’s seeress can point them straight here now. Others in this area can’t have missed the echo.”
“You all came prepared for battle,” Ethan said, frowning at the group still hovering inside the room.
Beneath him, Bryn moaned. Her eyelids drifted sleepily open. Her mouth began to curve as she looked at him, but then she glanced to the side. “Oh Goddess, we’ve gone and done it now.”
Ethan laughed. He couldn’t help it. He was filled with elation.
Bryn’s mouth tightened. She glared at him and slipped her hands between their chests to cover her breasts.
He sighed and reached down to pull the edge of the covers over their nude bodies, although all that was visible of her was sprawled legs. His entire backside had been in full view.
Not that he minded one bit. Theirs was an openly sexual society. Uninhibited by humans’ odd rules regarding modesty.
Her sex clenched again, and his body began to relax, enjoying the feel of her beneath him, of the warmth and wetness that surrounded his cock. “You should leave,” he said, not looking at his men or the sister witches, but at Bryn’s stark gaze.
“Sorry about the door,” Renner muttered.
Their audience shuffled away. The door creaked on strained hinges and several hard pulls finally closed it.
Ethan settled his elbows on either side of Bryn and gave her a nudge with his thickening cock. “There’s more.”
She shoved at his chest. “This is all my fault,” she said, her voice a thin wail.
“How is it yours? I’m here too. And I think I did most of the work.”
The corners of her mouth turned downward. “I wished I’d never been claimed by Merrick. Last night, when we drew down the moon. I wished it. Wished you were Other. That we could be together. I wished for a child.”
“So many wishes…” He smiled inside. She’d wanted him even thinking he was human. For more than just his seed.
“I’ve put us all in danger. Stupid. Stupid.” Tears gleamed in her eyes.
“Bryn, we can’t fight fate. But I will fight Merrick and anyone else who comes for you.”
Her eyes glittered with unshed tears. She blinked, sending one sliding into her hair. “The echo…” She shook her head. “It was so much stronger this time.”
“Because we were meant to be.” He felt it to his toes. Which was why he couldn’t be concerned about repercussions. About what their lovemaking might bring down on them all.
He pushed back the covering and slid his hands beneath her body, down to the sweet round curve of her ass. He gave it a squeeze and flexed his hips, reminding her they were still connected, and that he wasn’t nearly finished.
“We should join them,” she said, gasping. “Plan for a defense.”
“There’s time for that. Later. We shouldn’t disappoint your Goddess.” He lowered his eyelids. “Are you sore?”
She wrinkled her nose. “I have a tree trunk shoved up my vagina, what do you think?”
He grinned. “Are you too sore?”
Bryn huffed. “This is what it’s going to be like, isn’t it? You lolling in bed. Wanting to fuck morning, noon and night. I’ve heard tales about you trolls.”
Ethan nuzzled her ear. “And every one of them is true,” he whispered. Leaning on one elbow, a hand still clamped on a soft buttock, he began to rut in shallow thrusts, because she’d admitted she was sore.
But soon the mattress springs squeaked and the headboard banged against the wall. Bryn’s tears dried as she answered his challenge, raking her nails over his back.
Ethan relished the battle to come—with her, with the hellhound who would track them to the bayou. Trolls were warriors. Born to fight. He’d been made for this. Shaped in rock and sweat just for her.
Chapter Six
The next afternoon, the women gathered in the kitchen to prepare the evening meal. With so many to feed, all hands were needed. Besides, after the previous night’s events, the witches were confined to the house. Orders from Ethan at breakfast. The women had contacted their workers and made excuses for why they wouldn’t be coming in for a few days—relatives from out of town.
And although his assumption of authority rankled, Bryn conceded he was right. It was no longer safe for them outside.