Spearing the Dragon

EIGHT

Loridian sat on the couch in his suite, reading from a Dokkalfr device about the update of the rest of their forces when the door slid open. The memorandum lost his attention immediately at the slender form of a son of Loki walking inside his personal space. He set the device beside him without looking at it, those sharp, calculating eyes finding him. The door slid shut behind him and Loridian looked at him with a heated gaze.
    "I was looking for Ingrid."
    "She's resting in her room." He crossed one leg over another, patting the space beside him. "Sit, son of Loki," he said in a low voice. Those Loki eyes watched him for a moment before complying, Loridian unable not to notice the simmering sensuality in that walk of his, the natural saunter of his slim hips like a promise if he behaved himself. He sat next to him, Loridian turning toward him, resting an arm against the back of the couch, giving him a warm gaze he gave few.
     "You received the message I sent?" he said in an intimate voice few males earned from him, his moss green eyes reminding him of a hot afternoon in the forest. They gave him a chiding look that didn't diminish their bedroom quality.
     "I would have preferred if it hadn't been in my bed. I nearly pissed myself."
     Loridian's gaze warmed. "It wasn't meant to frighten you. I thought that was the face you attributed to us so you would recognize it."
     "And why did it appear in my bed, inches from me?" Loridian's gaze turned sultry and a suggestive smile filled Lillevenn's eyes. "I didn't realize the Dokkalfr knew me enough to have a thing for me."
     Loridian smiled. "You have been fascinated with the wrong elven race, son of Loki. The Ljosalfar would receive you with only arrogance and death."
     "And yours?"
     The side of Loridian's mouth lifted in a smirk.
"Perhaps only the death part."
     "So then it was you who decided where to place the message."
     Loridian felt uncustomary warmth down his front at his direct manner.
     "Have you been with a male before?" he asked in a husky voice just shy of a growl, unable to control it. Those eyes gave him an uncertain look.
"I might have been during a ceremony, I was too drunk to remember, but according to memory, I haven't." He gave a wan smile. "My taste runs to naughty nymphs. And a Valkyrie once."
     Loridian's large hands found his slim hips, bringing him closer without another word. He brought him into his lap in a straddling position, seeing surprise in those sultry green eyes. They softened a moment later.
     "I am not accustomed to being in this position."
     Loridian's hand took his head in a firm grip before bringing him closer for a kiss, given easy access due to their heights. His tongue tasted spice and peppermint, kissing him hungrily, his hand moving of its own accord before grasping him between the legs, but didn't squeeze. He felt his reaction as the satyric immortal kissed him back with sensual slow burn, arousing him more than the aggressive kisses of one of his own people.
     He put him on his back roughly, kissing him with savage desire, pulling down his pants before taking him in his hand, stroking him with just enough urgency to receive his intended effect. His mouth found his strong neck, digging his teeth into his flesh. When he felt him grinding against his hand, he almost missed a step and lost control entirely.

After pleasuring him at leisure as he would drink his favorite wine, Loridian settled beside him. Lillevenn lay against his pillows, a soft, residual moan leaving his throat before he lifted his head and looked into two sultry, fond blue eyes that warmed him, because they reminded him of Ingrid.
     "Why not take what you wanted?" he asked softly.
     "I will drink you, slowly, son of Loki, before I finally feast on all your delights."
     Lillevenn's extremities went numb as he stared at him, his groin reacting to the words before he could. Loridian leaned forward and took his jaw in his mouth, his teeth only brushing his skin before he released him. Lillevenn leaned over and moved on top of him, taking his head before kissing him with desire no man before him had inspired.

Lillevenn walked inside the suite, noticing the Dokkalfr female in the corner, striking a large padded square, her fists pounding the cushion so hard he thought the entire thing would break apart. She rounded, giving him feral all black eyes. He looked at her calmly before she turned back to her punching device.
     "Another one of his whores," she muttered and he raised an eyebrow.
     "Somebody has to do it."
     She gave him a dangerous look but her eyes had returned to aquamarine. She grunted, turning toward the couch behind her, pouring a drink from a decanter.
      "You hurt Ingrid," he said in an even tone. She tossed her head back as she drank, his eyes drifting down her backside. She slammed the glass down, turning to give him an aggressive look.
     "Have you come to defend her honor?"
     She sat on the couch more like a man than a lady, raising a boot onto the cushion in front of her, looking at him like she wanted to strip him of his skin. He walked up to the couch and sat next to her, drawing those frightening eyes, their color so strange on such a woman.
     "Are you not afraid of me, son of Loki?"
     He noticed her voice had lost some of its depth since the time he entered.
     "In my experience, a predator only attacks when it feels threatened or if it's hungry, and I don't think I'm your type."
     She pressed her lips together more thoughtfully than angrily, tilting her head.
     "Satyr is tasty."
     He smiled, shaking his head. "I don't think you're nearly as terrible as you make people believe."
     "Do you require a session with me as well, son of Loki?" she asked in a sharp voice. He gave her a sultry look and she grunted, looking away from him.
     "As foolishly bold as your ancestor."
     His eyes turned curious. "You knew him?"
     She gave him a dominant look; unlike Loridian, hers was pure aggression. She reminded him of a war goddess. He could see why Loridian wasn't fond of her. Terynzia turned toward him, her leg leaning against the back of the sofa, studying him.
     "You wanted to see me," he prompted.
     "Maybe I just wanted to test you like your little halfbreed." He gave her a warning look but didn't defend her. "I bet I could break you with one hand."
      He gave her a sharp look. "Business first, then pleasure." She tossed her head back and gave a deep, throaty laugh that did strange things to his groin. She lifted herself and the huge woman straddled him, her powerful thighs holding her up so that she didn't actually sit on him, only looking down a little into his tolerant gaze. "We both know I'm not the one you want."
     She groaned, looking at the ceiling.
     "You're killing the mood." He smiled as she dropped beside him, folding a leg in front of her, resting an arm against the back of the couch. "Sorry I'm not dainty like your halfbreed."
     His eyes turned calculating.
     "Is that why you don't use these moves on him?"
      She gave a sardonic grunt. "He'd cut me before I could lift a leg."
     "I would think that would only add to the ambience."
      She chuckled. "You are cute, son of Loki, just like your ancestor." He only gave her a direct gaze and she waved a hand. "He's never found me attractive. He prefers small, obedient slaves."
     "I'd imagine he would find you very attractive." He raised a chiding eyebrow. "Perhaps stop torturing his favorites."
     The dominant look returned to her eyes and it warmed him.
     "Who else is going to make sure he doesn't impregnate some weakling? At least with you, he won't leave behind some halfbreed bastard."
     "Because you want that honor, is that it?"
     She chuckled. "Do you see me as a mother?"
     "I see you setting planets aflame to protect your child."
     Her gaze heated. She shook her head, looking away.
     "It's not in the cards for me. I have another path."
     She set both her booted feet on the floor.
     "Maybe you should try to give it a chance." She shook her head, staring into space and his gaze gentled. "Because you'd only accept Loridian as the father?"
     He half-expected her to get angry at his comment but she only looked at the carpet closer to him.
     "He is my mate," she said in a level tone. She looked up at the wall beside the door. "My mate who despises me," she said in a softer tone.
     "Only because he feels like you disrespect him."
     She looked up at him, not exactly the fierce look she'd had when he entered.
     "Know him so well after a single roll in the sheets?"
     He looked down at his lap. "We actually haven't."
     She grunted, leaning back against the couch.
     "He likes to draw out his treats."
     He raised an amused look to her and he thought he saw a fond look in hers. Her gaze drifted when she stared into space.
     "I could help, if you like."
     She raised an amused look at him.
     "Why would you do that?"
     His eyes flashed mischievously.
     "I like helping."
     She gave a throaty chuckle.
     "You could help me right now."
      He laughed despite himself.
     "My talents would be wasted on you."
     She smiled and he was surprised how dazzling it was.
     "We could do gloriously dark things together."
     He chuckled. "I'm quite certain. However, I need to be conscious for the next planning meeting."
     She threw her head back and laughed.
     "Oh, a child of Loki!" He smiled. She gave him an impish look that didn't match the rest of her, delighting him. "How could you help me, Lillevenn of the forest?"
     "By teaching you to be what he likes."
     She scoffed, leaning back to pour herself another glass.
     "I'll never be what he likes. I've never been much of a pupil."
     "No, you're more of a teacher."
     She held the glass, turning to look at him in surprise with her aquamarine eyes he thought more lovely the longer they spoke. She leaned back against the couch, giving him a tolerant, fond look as she raised the glass to her lips. She raised it.
     "Therein lies our problem. He likes his favorites on their knees, waiting to be taught. I can't be other than what I am."
     His gaze warmed. "He likes strength."
     "He worships strength, we all do. But he's never appreciated mine."
     "It's not your strength he dislikes. It's how you use it. I get why you test his favorites, but from his perspective, it is overriding his will and disrespecting his choices."
     She sat up, defense in her eyes.
     "What am I supposed to do, just let him sleep with whoever he wants? He's mine and I won't stand for it!"
     He nodded. "That's the spirit."
     She exhaled in frustration, leaning back.
     "He hates it."
     "Because he doesn't feel like you value him, only want to control him."
     She looked down at her lap sulkily.
     "It doesn't matter what I do, I'll never be good enough."
     His heartstrings were pulled on at such words from such a woman.
     "Have you tried being gentle?"
     "Bah, he'd hate me even more then."
     He gave a wan smile. "I'm not sure that's possible."
     She grunted, her eyes smiling at him.
     "Sassy imp."
     He smiled.