Текст книги "Once in a Blue Moon"

Автор книги: Delilah Devlin

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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 5 страниц)

He made no sounds, but she couldn’t help the whimpers she emitted, the ragged sobs that began to shake her as she pleasured him. He might have been lost to her forever. They both might have died. The child that might be growing inside her would have been another casualty.

He bracketed his hands around her face and he held her away. “Don’t, Bryn. Don’t think about it. We’re both here. Safe. Together.”

She bent her head and her soggy locks trailed toward the tiled floor. “I had doubts. I thought that if you lost it would be because my belief in you wasn’t strong enough.”

“I had doubts too. He was stronger than I’d expected. Larger. But the moment I felt you inside me, heard you in my head, hope grew. You gave me strength.”

She glanced up, past his thickened cock to his smoky-dark eyes. “I need you.” It was all she could manage to say. She wanted him, needed that fundamental connection, the locking of their bodies together in a lover’s knot.

Ethan reached down his hands, slipped them under her arms and drew her upward. They stood beneath the water, warm and wet, cleansed of blood and dirt. New.

He cupped her cheeks, stroked a thumb over her bottom lip and then bent and pressed his mouth against hers.

She opened, inviting the slide of his tongue. She coaxed him deeper, sucking on him, grinding her mouth against his. When he pulled away, they were both breathing hard.

He reached for the faucet and gave it a whirl, not tearing his gaze from hers. He slid back the glass door and walked her out, gripping her waist to set her on the counter.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and leaned back on her hands, glancing down to where he was fitting himself against her folds. So thick. So strong. More beast than man there. Perfect.

“Troll,” she whispered.

His gaze darted to her face, his brows pulling together in a questioning frown.

“I love you. All of you.”

His expression darkened. His nostrils flared, pupils enlarging to consume the irises, and then a greenish glow began to pulse. “I love you too, witch,” he growled.

With his strong hands clutching her hips to hold her still, he filled her with a single, thrilling thrust.

Bryn tossed back her hair and squeezed herself around him, daring her green-eyed troll with her eyes to give her everything he had. She could take him. All of him.

Epilogue

Bryn and her sisters were hurrying. They’d promised to provide the food for the celebration of the bridge opening, but wrangling witches was like herding cats—impossible.

Aoife arrived late at Bryn’s. She was having a hard time that morning figuring out which dress made her look less fat, the blue or the green? Then she worried that both matched her eye color too closely. “Will they think I’m vain if I match my dress to my eyes?” she asked, holding up both hangers beside her face. “Maybe I should go back home and get the pink.”

“No!” Bryn said, gripping her waist and turning her toward the bathroom. “Wear the blue. Guys won’t notice the color of your dress—just that your ass looks nice. The blue hugs it.” As the door closed, Bryn closed her eyes. “Did you even remember to bring the deviled eggs?” she shouted through the door.

“They’re on the front seat of my car.”

Bryn went to the parlor door and pushed it open. “Renn!” she shouted.

He came at a lope. “What do you need?”

“Aoife left a tray of deviled eggs on her front seat.”

“Got it.” He loped away.

“I hope like hell they’re still cold.” She turned back to the women still moving franticly around the kitchen that seemed to grow smaller by the minute. “Radha, how’s that chicken?”

Radha set a huge pan topped with foil on the butcher block. “Marinated, ready for the grill.”

“Get it out of here.”

Radha opened the door onto the porch. “I need muscles!”

Khan popped into the opening.

She pointed at the pan. “Make sure this gets to the grill. Don’t let that foil slip. I don’t want flies or dirt in the meat.”

Khan strode to the counter, hefted the pan and paused to bow over it as he locked his gaze with Radha’s. “Your wish, as ever, is my command.”

Radha rolled her eyes even as her cheeks blushed a fiery red. When he was gone, she glanced at Bryn. “I think all that jinn eagerness to fulfill my wishes is getting to me.”

Bryn didn’t have time to spare a laugh. “Ladies, gather the salads. We’re late.”

Darcy stacked three dishes and leaned them against her chest, but the moment she stepped onto the porch, the dishes were lifted away. “Hey,” she called after yet another tall, handsome demon. She glanced back at Bryn, her frown easing as a wicked smile curved her mouth. “It’s a little unnerving how they wait around every corner to lend a hand.”

Miren snorted. “It’s because they want to slip their hands under our clothes.”

“No harm in that,” Darcy said, stepping down the stairs. “So long as there’s no echoing goin’ on.” She waggled her eyebrows and sauntered toward the cars.

Miren glanced at Bryn. “Her dance card is full. A different date every night, and sometimes more than one at a time.” Miren shook her head. “She’s asking for trouble.”

Bryn only smiled. “Well, if it’s trouble she wants, let her enjoy it.”

The barbeque beside the river was a huge success. Children ran across the newly completed bridge. Parents tried to keep them from crawling on the girders, but it was too new, too impressive not to be the focal point of everyone’s attention.

“You did yourself proud,” Bryn said, leaning back against Ethan’s chest.

The bridge was a swing bridge, one that moved to the side to allow tall watercraft to pass, something Miren was very appreciative of. If the bridge had been fixed, some of her trawlers would have had to take a longer route through the canals to reach Barataria Bay. And during storms, when the waters rose, the bridge could be moved out of the way of floating debris, making it less likely to ever be swept away again.

“Not still worried that the outside world might find you?”

“I have you. Why should I be worried?”

He moved his hand down to her belly and flattened his palm against the almost imperceptible bump. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Sounds dangerous. Trolls thinking…”

He chuckled. They were both well past taking any affront. Troll and witch were true terms of endearment. “I’ve been thinking, we should marry.”

She angled her head to look up into his face. “We’re already bound. Why do we need a human ceremony?”

“Our child will be going to school with human children here in Bonne Nuit.”

Bryn snorted. “Bonne Nuit doesn’t have a school. It’s not big enough.”

“It will be.” He turned her and looped his arms around the small of her back. “The town’s about to experience a boom.”

“One child is not a boom.”

“Vindlér Construction is moving its headquarters here. That means more houses, more families…”

Her eyes widened. “But you talked about commuting.”

“I don’t like the thought of working so far away. And the rest of the men like it here. We’ve set our sights on a certain plot of land.”

Her eyebrows rose. “The clearing?” The plain was the only place large enough to hold it. “What about our oak?”

“It stays. We won’t encroach too closely. You’ll still be able to dance in the moonlight.”

She smoothed her hands up his chest and around the back of his neck to touch his hair. She dragged her fingertips through it. “You’d do that for us?”

“If you’d like that. If you don’t think we’ll change what this place is to you.”

She lifted on her tiptoes and kissed his mouth. “We’ve talked. All the women were worried about the men drifting away. We didn’t know our isolation was so lonely until you came. I know they’ll be happy. You make us feel safe.”

He held her gaze for a long moment and then nodded. “I’ll make it happen. And you’ll all have a say in how this works. You and your sisters are the center of life here in Bonne Nuit. There’s not a soul, demon or human, who doesn’t know that.” He cleared his throat. “So back to the subject. We should marry.”

Bryn pursed her lips as she considered. “I’ll want Father Guidry to perform the ceremony. He’s a good friend.”

Ethan wrinkled his nose. “A demon marrying in a church?”

Bryn laughed. “It’s too small. But a troll marrying on a bridge—it would be fitting, don’t you think?”

His smile stretched. And as always when she watched him, her heart sped up, happiness and love filling her until she felt a little tearful. Maybe her weepiness was due to the baby. But she’d been truly blessed.

A man in her bed every night to share her troubles and the moonlight. A beast of a lover.

His hand entered her vision with a small velvet box in the center of his palm.

Her heart was so full it nearly burst. “Better not be a diamond,” she muttered. “They’re cold.” She flipped up the lid. A deep, grassy-green emerald set in warm gold winked in the sunlight.

Ethan grinned as she squealed with delight and launched herself at his chest. He lifted her off the ground and twirled with her, laughing. When he set her down, he glanced at Renner, who gave him a thumbs up.

At the sound of Bryn’s joy, the women came running, crowding closely to see the ring. Ethan kept his arm around her, watching over their bent heads, his chest expanding with pride and love. He’d gotten it right. For a troll who’d been born with few opportunities, he’d managed to get a lot right.

He wasn’t fool enough to think that he and his band of outcasts had seen the last of trouble, but for now, they’d keep watch, keep the women safe and continue to build on the promise of the Beaux Rêve coven. A sweet dream indeed.

About the Author

Until recently, award-winning erotica and romance author Delilah Devlin lived in South Texas at the intersection of two dry creeks, surrounded by sexy cowboys in Wranglers. These days, she’s missing the wide-open skies and starry nights but loving her dark forest in Central Arkansas, with its eccentric characters and isolation—the better to feed her hungry muse! For Delilah, the greatest sin is driving between the lines, because it’s comfortable and safe. Her personal journey has taken her through one war and many countries, cultures, jobs and relationships to bring her to the place where she is now—writing sexy adventures that hold more than a kernel of autobiography and often share a common thread of self-discovery and transformation.

To learn more about Delilah Devlin, please visit www.delilahdevlin.com. Send an email to [email protected] or join her Yahoo! group to enter in the fun with other readers as well as Delilah: [email protected].