Page 25 of Sky and the Grumpy Troll

“Then why are your fingers still in my hair?”

Because I am an idiot and I cannot make myself stop. Because you feel good. “Wind,” I said.

He laughed, a real laugh, warm and close, and the vibration of it traveled through my thigh. “Wind. Right. Old troll tradition. Subsection: hair petting because of wind.”

“Why do you keep acting like I’m inventing traditions?”

“Because you use them to explain everything you want to do, Moerrven. When you could just tell me you want to do it.”

I grunted, not sure what to say, but sure I should protest.

“Repeat after me. ‘Sky, I’m touching your hair because I wanted to touch your hair. Because it feels nice.’”

I did not repeat after him, only glared at him. But he knew the truth, and he was cheerfully laughing about it. He settled his head more firmly against my leg and returned to reading, and I kept my fingers in his hair because apparently I had lost control of my own hands.

The sun climbed higher, and the lakeshore unspooled beside us, cove after blue cove, and Sky kept reading. Then he reached a chapter that began with Hoareyn arriving at the bakery after dark, rain-soaked and shivering, which should have been impossible for a creature of ice, and Joku pulling him inside without a word, wrapping him in a blanket, sitting him by the oven. And Hoareyn, who had never once in his long, cold life allowed another person to take care of him, let Joku do it.

Sky’s voice dropped, his words coming lower and slower.

“‘Joku undressed him with the same steady patience he used to knead dough. Peeled the wet shirt over his head, unlaced his boots, dried his silver hair with a cloth. Hoareyn sat rigid and trembling and permitted it, because Joku’s hands were so unbearably gentle as they skimmed over Hoareyn’s bare skin, down lower to where Hoareyn’s dragon cock—’” Sky gasped. “Wait, it says there is a special dragon cock, even in human form, only…” He frowned down at the text, flipped forward a page, then back a page. “Damn, it doesn’t describe it. I suppose we’re supposed to imagine it.”

“I suppose the author does not know what a dragon cock looks like, as there are only a few in existence.”

Sky giggled, then straightened his jacket, composing himself before going back to reading. “‘Joku carried him to the bed like he weighed nothing. He laid Hoareyn down and began to kiss him, telling Hoareyn how beautiful he was as he licked and nipped at every inch of the dragon’s cool skin.’” Sky frowned. “This is beating around the bush a bit too much for me; I like the way you write better.”

“Sky.”

He beamed at me. “So, you don’t want commentary because this is making you horny? Noted.”

“I did not say that.”

“It was implied. ‘Joku took Hoareyn’s cock into his mouth, enveloping the big shaft in his heat, and Hoareyn bucked up, thrashing against the sheets as Joku tongued his slit, holding eye contact the entire time.’”

“It does not say that.”

“I thought you hadn’t read it?”

“I’ve read that author’s work. She’s very… non-specific about sensual scenes.”

“Fine, it’s vague. And boring. ‘Joku covered him with his body, and Hoareyn gasped at the weight, the warmth, the sheer overwhelming fact of being held down by someone who could break him and never would. Joku slid into him.’” Sky frowned. “No prep?”

“Do you not like this book?”

“I much prefer yours. In yours, Joku would have worked Hoareyn’s body over until he was begging, until even the slightest touch would make him come so hard he blacked out. You wouldn’t skip prep.”

“Perhaps,” I said, trying to sound calm and normal when I was anything but. “You could skip ahead. To after the sex.”

“Or, I could tell you how I’d fuck you. If you were the submissive, sexy dragon with a big cock. First, I think I’d find a good lubricant, and slide my fingers down between your cheeks to see how responsive you are—”

“Sky.”

“You asked.”

“I most certainly didn’t.”

He huffed. “You’re no fun. Go back to petting me.”

I stared at the road and said nothing, because the alternative was to pull the wagon over and do something I could not take back.