Page 76 of Sky and the Grumpy Troll

“Why is it scary to be in love?”

“Because what if you want me to go home? What if you don’t love me back?”

“Of course I love you,” he said, and fucked into me, hard, deliberate, each thrust a word. “I love you. I have loved you since Poppy first approved of you. I notice every time you leave a room. I can feel the room go empty. I waited five years to feel anything and then you—” His voice broke, and he didn’t stop, didn’t slow, and took me apart with that relentless deep rhythm while he said it, the words and the body saying the same thing now, no door between them, no armor left on either of us.

“But losing me would have destroyed you,” I whispered.

“I am not afraid of losing you. Do you hear me? I would rather have you and lose you than spend another careful century not being destroyed. You are worth being destroyed for. I love you. I love you even if you need to go back home and see your mom. Even if I have to wait centuries for you to find a way back to Qoksmere.”

And I, the guy with a comeback for everything, the guy who narrates his own kidnappings, had nothing. I surged up, grabbing his horns, pressing the spot that made him wild with lust, and dragged his mouth down to mine. The kiss was wild, hungry, the fire behind the calm control that was Moerrven’s resting state. He gripped my ass hard, fingers digging in, and pounded me into the mattress so hard the bed shook, then the frame broke, and I laughed as we slid sideways at an odd angle, but he didn’t. He never stopped fucking me, never stopped kissing me.

His rhythm went wild, fast and disorganized, his cock pumping into my hole so fast I arched off the bed and screamed, and he held me close and buried his face against my throat, and I kissed my way to his ear as he reached for my cock and gave it a long, slow stroke.

“Are you waiting for me to tell you to come?” I asked.

“Always, my love,” he murmured against my throat, digging his teeth in just a little. I held on to his horns, fucking his hand while his cock fucked me, and let go, my cock spurting all over his hand and his stomach, marking him.

“Oh fuck, baby, I love you so much.”

He followed me a few thrusts later, buried as deep as he could go, a low, broken sound tearing out of him as he spilled, his face pressed to my throat, both of us shaking, with nothing left to hide behind.

For a while there was nothing but breathing.

I lay there with him heavy and softening inside me, my own mess cooling on my belly, his weight pinning me to the bed like the safest thing in the world. I stared up at the cracked inn ceiling while my heart remembered how to do its normal job, and I thought: oh. So that’s what that feels like.

He lifted his head. His eyes found mine, warm and gray, blue flush still high on his cheeks, and we looked at each other for a second, breathing hard, undone.

Naturally, I ruined it.

“You know,” I said, dragging a finger through the mess on my stomach and considering it, “that was a lot of taking control, for a guy who’s supposed to be the well-behaved one. Breaking my only tie. Fucking me into next week. Saying devastating things while I was defenseless.” I cupped his grumpy jaw and looked at him with the most serious face I owned. “I’m afraid you’ve been a very naughty boy, Moerrven Mossren. And naughty boys who take control have to be punished.”

He huffed a laugh against my collarbone, a real one, ragged and warm, and pressed his face into the curve of my neck. His arms came around me and gathered me in like he was never planning to let the world have me again.

“I can’t wait,” he whispered into my skin. “Daddy.”

“Holy crap, I knew it. You like that nickname.”

He chuckled. “Maybe only while you’re spanking me senseless and calling me your whore.”

Chapter 26

Moerrven

“So, shorts,” Pip was saying, as he walked ahead of us with Sky. “Why aren’t you wearing yours?”

“I mean, it’s a little chilly, isn’t it?” Sky asked. “I know it’s summer, but we’re in the mountains!”

Whatever Pip said next was lost to the wind, and I glanced at my walking companion, a situation neither of us had chosen. It had turned out Queen Delsynarea hadn’t completely let me down. She’d sent her most legendary warrior, Aeldryc the Ironstorm, and his Gray Guard.

Still wouldn’t have minded a few more regiments on the rescue mission, but at least she’d sent people with powerful magic. And right now the most feared iron elemental in the land had his eyes fixed on Pip’s bottom, with a fond, far-off expression on his face.

“So,” I said. “About the dragons.”

Aeldryc glanced my way and gave a curt nod. “You’re sure it was Vyranthos? We’ve been searching for him for the better part of a decade to request his aid in finding Delsynarea’s husband.”

“He introduced himself by his human name, Oallian. That is Vyranthos, no?”

“And your boy just talked his way out of captivity?”