Fantastical

  “My prince,” I breathed, twisting my neck, tucking my forehead into his neck and covering his hand at my sex where his finger was working magic.

  He pulled my nipple again and fire shot straight through me. “Bloody right,” he growled, his hips dipping, he drove back up inside me.

  “Baby,” I whispered, my hand tensing on his.

  “Who are you?” he asked on another pull on my nipple causing another shaft of fire.

  “Your princess,” I answered immediately, wanting my reward.

  I got it, another heady stroke of his cock.

  “Who are you?” he repeated and I closed my eyes as his finger between my legs twitched relentlessly and I ground into him.

  “Honey,” I breathed. I was losing it.

  Another pull at my nipple, sharper, harder, better, then, “Who are you, Cora?”

  “Your wife,” I whispered, his hips dipped and he surged up again, pulling at my nipple and rolling my clit at the same time and I cried out, “Tor!” as it overwhelmed me.

  I barely started coming when he shoved me back down into the bed and then started moving inside me, rolling his hips as he did it, his hands at my hips yanking me back while he drove in.

  God, beautiful.

  I lifted up on my forearms, arched my back, lifting my ass for him and he reached forward, his fingers curling around my shoulder, he pulled me back into him, this allowing him to thrust deeper into me. I shuddered and finished my climax as he plunged in, his rhythm slow, steady, his hips rolling, his hand at my shoulder driving me back as he drove forward and it started building again.

  “Baby,” I gasped breathlessly into my comforter.

  His hand left my shoulder and both curled around the sides of my ribs.

  “We go back to my world, we find someone who can make you more of these shoes,” he declared huskily.

  “Yes,” I breathed.

  His hips rolled and he thrust deep. “Dozens of them,” he went on.

  “Yes,” I repeated.

  “My wife has a beautiful arse,” he grunted, his hips rolling and thrusting again.

  I closed my eyes, arched my back and stretched my arms straight forward, pressing back even as he pulled me to him.

  “Fuck me,” I whispered and his thrusts quickened. “Yes,” I breathed.

  “And the wettest, sweetest fucking cunt,” he growled, his voice hoarse, his thrusts coming faster.

  My head jerked back, my hair flying, my sex spasming. “Oh my God,” I moaned.

  “That’s it, my love,” his fingers at my ribs flexing tight, yanking me back violently, “give me what’s rightfully mine.”

  “Okay,” I breathed then my body bucked and I cried out yet again as a stronger climax washed through me, Tor pounded into me, hauling me back into him, his thrusts savage as I heard him grunt and he drove in hard, once, twice, three, four, five, six times then he stayed planted and groaned.

  My eyes slowly closed and just as slowly a smile curved my lips.

  He waited until my breathing slowed then he pulled me up again, arms tight around my chest and ribs, bodies still joined and his face went into my neck.

  “Would that we would be transported to a world where you could spend your days with my seed planted deep inside you,” Tor whispered into my neck.

  I closed my eyes again as renewed heat flooded my system.

  “Which would mean,” Tor went on quietly, “I would spend my days planting it there.”

  My body trembled and then I swallowed.

  Tor kept speaking.

  “Are we understood, you and I?” he murmured.

  “Yes, Tor,” I whispered, lifting a hand to place it lightly on his neck.

  And we were. Or, at least, I hoped we were.

  His lips went to my ear. “We have enough challenges ahead of us, my sweet. We do not need to be striking out and wounding each other.”

  Boy, was he right.

  “You’re right,” I agreed softly.

  His arms gave me a squeeze then the one at my ribs loosened, his hand sliding down to rest on my belly briefly at the same time he kissed my neck. Then he lifted me off him, set me on my knees in the bed and fell to his side grabbing my hand as he did so. I went down and he rolled to his back and pulled me in his arms so I was pressed into his side, one of his hands coming up to play with the ends of my hair.

  “Uh… Tor?” I called.

  “I’m right here,” he answered and I snuggled closer, because he was.

  Then I told him something I had to tell him but didn’t want to.

  Still, I had to.

  “Earlier tonight, uh… Noc came around.”

  “I know.”

  My head shot up and I looked at him through the shadows. “What?”

  “I alighted the stairs when he was shouting through your door. I hid, watched, prepared, should he lose his temper, to intervene. He did not. He left and I followed him.”

  My hand lying on his chest fisted. “You followed him?”

  “I did. And Cora, I will say it’s very strange seeing another you,” he told me.

  I was sure it was but I was also stuck on Tor following Noc.

  “You followed him?” I repeated and he sighed.

  “Yes.”

  My fist opened and I slapped his chest. “Why would you do that?”

  “The same reason I spent a day wandering your world when I first got here. You do not wage battle unless you know the lay of the land. And you never battle an opponent you do not know and understand even better than he understands himself.”

  What he said was very wise and everything but I still glared at him through the dark. “But, he could have seen you! He could have freaked out! He could have lost it! He could be a bad guy and led you someplace you shouldn’t be.” A thought struck me and I asked, “Where did he lead you?”

  “He led me to what you call a police station.”

  I blinked. Then I breathed, “What?”

  “He led me to what you call a police station,” Tor repeated.

  What on earth?

  “Why?”

  “From observing through the doors when he went in, it appears he is known there so my guess would be, he goes there often.”

  My voice got high when I asked, “He’s a cop?”

  “A what?”

  “A police officer. An officer of the law. A –”

  “Do these men carry gold emblems?” Tor interrupted to enquire.

  “You mean a badge?” I asked back.

  “Perhaps. He carried such as this on his belt.”

  “Yes, a badge and yes, cops carry badges.”

  “Then yes,” Tor stated, “it would seem this man is a… cop.”

  Holy crap!

  I whirled to sitting and stared into the darkness.

  This, I reckoned, was not good.

  Tor sat up and called, “Cora?”

  I focused on his shadow. “I don’t think this is good, Tor.”

  “I would say there’s no thinking about it, my love,” he replied and I stared at him.

  Great.

  “Why would you say that?”

  “Is this poker illegal?” he asked.

  “Um… no, if it’s done in a casino, of which there are some around here. But, yes, if the games are illegal.”

  “Then Cora is attending illegal games,” Tor declared and I blinked.

  Then I cried, “How could she even find illegal games? And, how did she even learn how to play poker? She was here less than two months! I wouldn’t even know where to begin to find an illegal poker game and I never understood poker. And… and… not only how but… why?”

  His arms came out and he pulled me to him, saying, “The Cora of my world is what she is, and she does what she does, and very little of it is good. We cannot waste our energy trying to understand how or why because the answer to the first is superfluous and even if we knew the answer to the second, we would not comprehend it. What we need to expend our energy on is what
kind of danger she has placed you in.”

  Okay, it must be said, sometimes Tor being sensible and logical was a good thing.

  “Right,” I agreed.

  “Share your thoughts,” he demanded and I relaxed into him.

  “Well,” I started, processing them in my head. “The best case scenario is that he’s a dirty cop and he’s in on whatever she’s in on, they’re playing at it together. This would be good since I won’t be going to any games, I’m making it clear he’s out of the picture and he’ll have to find another sugar mama who can count cards.”

  “Go on,” Tor urged when I stopped.

  “The worst case scenario, and the one I’m thinking it is, is that he’s undercover and he’s either investigating her activities or using her as an in to bring down some illegal gambling racket.”

  “This would be bad,” Tor muttered.

  He had that right.

  “But I would like to know why you think it’s the worst case scenario,” Tor stated.

  I moved so I could see his face (kind of) and explained, “Well, you said she was cold. He even said she was cold. And you said that, um… she was not much to write home about in the bed frolicking department.”

  I felt his body shake with laughter and heard his voice shake with it when he confirmed, “Indeed, she’s not much to write home about in the bed frolicking department.”

  I slapped his arm. “Tor, this is serious!”

  “Yes,” he agreed, his voice still shaking, “talk on.”

  I sucked in an annoyed breath and then I told him, “We have no way of knowing, since she’s so different from me, what he’s like. I was only around him a few minutes but he seemed, I don’t know, sweet.”

  His arms tensed around me and I quickly forged ahead.

  “Anyway, she is who she is so my guess would be, she thinks she’s playing him. He said she was a wildcat. If she was a wildcat and he was into her, and he’s even a little bit like you, then no way that a few missed phone calls and Cora not opening the door would mean he’d give up and tell her to pack his clothes in a suitcase and put them out in the hall. That’s saying it’s over and he’s fine with that. If she’s giving it to him like he likes it and he’s into her, he’s not going to give up that easy. Unless she’s not giving it to him like he likes it, he’s pretending he likes it as a means to an end, she’s giving him the heave ho and he’s sensing trouble which, as a cop he would do, so he’s cutting his losses and taking off.”

  “This would make sense,” Tor replied.

  “Yes,” I agreed.

  “This would also mean trouble,” he remarked and my head tilted.

  “Trouble?”

  “Love, we have no way of knowing how much time he invested in this… situation. What I know from experience is that it is highly unlikely Cora of my world could play that kind of game, especially if she took him to her bed, and be convincing. Perhaps to a normal man but not one who is trained to scrutinize human behavior and is on the alert for the sake of his own safety and the success of his endeavors. I don’t think, after he devoted time and energy to his inquiry at the same time enduring her… limited charms… that he would be willing to cut his losses, as you put it.”

  This made sense but I didn’t get it.

  “I don’t get it.”

  “He won’t be conceding. He’ll be watching you.”

  Oh shit.

  “Which means,” Tor carried on, “if we aren’t careful, me.”

  Oh shit!

  “Tor,” I whispered.

  “Therefore, we must be careful,” Tor concluded.

  “What if he’s already watching and he’s seen you?” I asked.

  “Considering the uncomfortable feeling seeing another me gave me, and I knew he existed, I would surmise that we would know if this was the case already.”

  I sucked in breath. Then I nodded.

  “So what do we do?” I enquired.

  “I don’t know. I need to think on it.”

  I stared at his shadowed face. Then I nodded again.

  He started righting both of us in the bed. “But to think clearly, I need sleep.”

  I gently pulled away from his efforts to right me in bed.

  He might need sleep but he wasn’t going to get it. At least, not for awhile.

  “Cora?” he called.

  I shoved my hand under the pillow and pulled out my nightie, saying softly, “Just a minute.”

  Luckily, with only a searching look at me, he let it go. I pulled the nightie on while he rolled off the bed to disrobe. Then I sat on the side of the bed, took off my sandals and dashed to the bathroom to grab the white stick with the pink plus sign on it. Then I dashed out of the bathroom to the kitchen being certain not to look at him on the way and also trying not to hyperventilate because I was nervous. In the kitchen, I lit the two birthday candles on the top (one pink, one blue – he wanted a son but Lord knew, at this point, it was a fifty-fifty shot). Then I walked the cake slowly back to my room.

  When I got close to the bed, I saw Tor was sitting up in it, his eyes I could see by the minimal candlelight were not on the cake. They were on me.

  And they were burning.

  “Love,” he whispered, his deep voice strange, like there was an ache in it.

  I sat on the bed and held the cake between us. His eyes finally went to the cake.

  Then they came back to mine and there it was. Definitely an ache.

  “You did not need to do this to apologize,” he said softly then his eyes went back to the cake and I understood the ache. He was remembering the last time I walked into a room with one. “Especially not this,” he finished.

  “Honey,” I replied quietly, “I didn’t make it as an apology. I made it for a celebration.”

  He looked at me. “Pardon?”

  I balanced the cake on one hand and lifted the white stick with the other.

  “In my world, you can buy pregnancy tests at the drugstore. When you left, I bought one, took it and –”

  Just like that, the cake was whisked out of my hand and the candles flickering out as it was swiftly deposited on the nightstand. Then the white stick was yanked out of my other hand and Tor tossed it to the floor.

  Then I was on my back with Tor’s body covering mine.

  His hands framed my face. “It is confirmed, you’re carrying my child,” he declared.

  “Uh… yes,” I whispered.

  “And you feel this is cause for celebration,” he noted, his voice husky.

  “Um… I’m scared,” I whispered my confession. “But… uh… yes,” I agreed shakily.

  I barely got the “s” out on “yes” when Tor’s mouth slammed down on mine and he kissed me, deep, wet, rough and thorough and while he was doing it, his arms closed around me and he rolled so I was on top.

  His hands went into my nightie, yanking it up and I had to break free of his mouth when he pulled it over my head.

  “Tor, the cake –” I started.

  One of his hands fisted in my hair, the other one curled into the flesh of one of the cheeks of my bottom.

  “We’ll have it for breakfast,” he replied.

  “You can’t eat cake –”

  His fingers on my ass flexed. “Quiet.”

  “But –”

  He rolled again so he was on top, shifting his hips insistently until I opened my legs and his hips fell between.

  “Quiet,” he repeated on a growl, “I’m about to fuck my wife and the only words I want her saying when I do it are ‘yes’, ‘Tor’, ‘my prince’, ‘baby’ and ‘oh my God’. Am I understood?”

  God, he was bossy.

  “God, you’re bossy,” I snapped.

  He slid inside me and my neck arched.

  Damn, but I loved the feel of him inside me.

  “Cora, am I understood?”

  “You’re understood,” I breathed.

  His mouth came to mine and he whispered, “Good.”

  Then he kissed me
and started to move and for the next half an hour the only words I said were “yes”, “Tor”, “my prince”, “baby,” and “oh my God”.

  * * * * *

  Weak sun was touching the sky as my eyes drifted closed and sleep started to claim me.

  “Sweets?” Tor called and my only answer was to press closer. He nevertheless heard my answer loud and clear and kept talking. “That cake was superb.”

  My eyes opened and I saw the wall of his chest.

  He’d made love to me then I’d gone to the kitchen, got a knife, cut a slice of cake and fed him with my fingers. Then I cut another one and he fed me. Then I licked his fingers clean. His eyes watched my mouth through every second of me doing it, they darkened in a way that was too sexy for words and when his fingers were clean, he made love to me again.

  Now I’d had four orgasms, a piece of damn good cake (even if I did say so myself) and the man I loved was in my arms. And, according to my mother and finally paying attention, it appeared the man I loved was both devoted to me and adored me.

  All was not right in my world but all was pretty freaking great in my now.

  I slid my hand through the hair on his chest and replied quietly, “I’m glad you liked it.”

  “‘Like’,” he muttered on a squeeze of the arms he held me with, “is not the word I’d choose.”

  I didn’t think he was talking about just the cake.

  I smiled against his chest and my eyes started to drift closed.

  “Cora?” he called again.

  “Yes, baby,” I whispered, not opening my eyes.

  “Who are you?” he whispered back.

  “Your wife,” I answered sleepily and burrowed closer.

  “Bloody right,” he muttered and I smiled again then drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The Only Hope We Have

  The loud banging at the front door jolted both of us awake.

  I blinked, rolled out of Tor’s strong arms and away from his warm body, feeling like I had an hour’s sleep (which, with a glance at the bedside clock, was close to the truth).

  Tor had a different reaction.

  He threw back the covers and growled, “By the gods, what the bloody hell now?”

  With sleepy fascination, I watched him pull up a pair of drawstring pajama bottoms then, still with sleepy fascination, I watched him prowl toward the door then I suddenly was not sleepy or fascinated anymore because I instantly freaked out, threw the covers back, jumped out of bed and snapped, “Tor! Where are you going?”