His arms got tight and he growled a warning, “Cora.”
I rolled my eyes then rolled them back to his face. “Oh, all right, I won’t ask any innkeepers to dinner.”
He studied me then shook his head and his mouth twitched. Then he gave me another squeeze, a brush of his lips against mine, he let me go and walked to the door.
When he had it open and was halfway through, I called, “Is it okay if I ask their wives?”
He turned, speared me with a glower, I grinned at him, his glower disappeared when he winked at me, my breath caught at how damned hot he could wink and then he vanished behind the door.
* * * * *
“I need to go home, I need to go home, I need to go home,” I whispered my prayer into the falling night as I sat curled up in a padded, iron chair in a secluded corner of one of the many balconies in Tor’s huge castle. “I’ll miss Tor and I’ll hate leaving him but please, please, please God, send me home.”
The people were lighting their lanterns, windows were beginning to glow and the street lamps were being lit.
And I was crying.
Nope, I wasn’t crying. I was sobbing.
Nope, I wasn’t sobbing either. I was bawling.
Because, outside of the day the curse started, that day was the worst day in my entire life – the short one I’d led here and the long one I’d led at home. Both of them. The worst day ever.
And I needed to go back home because the people here hated me.
Nope, they didn’t hate me, they detested me.
Nope, that wasn’t right either, they didn’t detest me, they loathed me.
And they were not to be won over by bright smiles and politeness and I hadn’t seen Tor all day for them to be won over by us making out or bickering.
No, that day for the first day since I arrived in this world, I had to go it alone. And alone I went it, touring the castle and the city before I could take no more, slunk back and decided that I might be falling in love with a warrior prince, and he was pretty magnificent (in bed and out of it) and his world was beautiful, but I couldn’t take this.
I couldn’t take it.
I had found out that the other Cora had been there three days… three days… and in all her bitchiness she had left devastation in her wake. She was cold, imperious, demanding, haughty, impolite, patronizing and even cruel.
In all likelihood she hadn’t offended everyone in the entire city; she didn’t have superpower nastiness like Minerva had. But she did enough damage to those she came into contact with that it was clear rumor had run rampant.
The further fact (I’d heard whispers) that she had nothing to do with Tor, who was beloved (I’d heard straight out comments muttered loudly behind my back or around my person) not to mention the future king and therefore responsible for siring an heir to secure the kingdom (which she was stopping him from doing, again, I learned this from straight out comments) didn’t make her popular at all.
In fact, people thought there was something wrong with her (as they would, Tor was hot and his princedom was awesome) and whatever was wrong was no good.
As with Perdita, they didn’t even try to hide their contempt for Tor’s wife. Glares, scowls, catty, loud comments and one man even spit in the path behind me as I wandered the cobbled streets wishing to explore, be friendly and experience Tor’s city.
But the spitting, which was horrid, wasn’t the worst.
It was the maids I heard talking as I passed them in the castle after giving them a cheerful smile.
“He doesn’t like her gardenia so now she’s wearing one of his other women’s scents that we left in her room,” one whispered loudly and then joined in with her mate’s giggles.
One of his other women’s scents. That vast collection of bottles were left behind by Tor’s other women.
And the collection was vast.
And I was wearing one.
That tiny tear in my heart that started our night at the pub which I thought was long since mended split painfully further.
I was a friendly person, I was social person and I considered myself pretty strong. I’d weathered being switched to a whole different world and warrior princessed my way through a fight with the vickrants, for God’s sake.
But I was not friendly enough, social enough or strong enough to endure the quantity and intensity of hate coming at me that day.
In fact, in the end, I felt almost unsafe without Tor to watch over me.
And without Salem or Aggie (I was scared to ask anyone where I could find Perdita so I could ask for Aggie, so I didn’t), I spent hours with not a single kind soul around me.
And that was enough.
I could bear no more.
So I needed to get home before something bad happened. Like I fell in love with Tor or got stoned to death by his people.
“Please God, send me home,” I whispered through my tears as the beautiful vista lay before me, a vista no one in their right mind would ever wish to leave but one from which I had to escape.
“Cora!”
I heard Tor’s voice shouting my name. It wasn’t close but it wasn’t far.
Shit!
I hunched deeper into my chair and hastily wiped my face with the drenched, lace-edged handkerchief I found in the huge, walk-in wardrobe in Tor’s room.
“Cora!”
There it was again. And it was closer.
Crap!
The handkerchief wasn’t working so I dashed my fingers across my face, thankful that I hadn’t attempted any makeup heroics with the kohl pencil.
I heard boots on marble.
Fuck!
“There you are,” he said and I sucked in a steadying breath. “Bloody hell woman, didn’t you hear –?”
I pinned a huge smile on my face and turned it to him.
“Heya,” I greeted and he stopped dead.
“By the gods,” he breathed.
Okay, proof the handkerchief didn’t work.
I needed to cover.
“So, uh… how was your day?” I asked fake brightly.
One second he was five feet away, the next second he was right there, I was out of the chair and in his arms.
Um. Not good. Way too close.
“Cora –”
I looked down and to the side. “Is all well in your princedom?” I tried to inject lightness in my tone and knew I failed when he spoke next.
His voice was so firm it was steely when he commanded, “Look at me.”
I did as he asked, lifting my head and moving it in a swift arc, my eyes catching his for a brief second before I tried to look down to the other side but one of his hands caught me, fingers at my chin, and forced me to face him.
Foiled!
“Bloody hell,” he muttered. “By the gods, what happened to you?”
“Nothing,” I replied instantly.
“Nothing?” he asked, his voice dripping with impatience and disbelief.
“Nope, nothing,” I repeated. “Everything’s cool. How are you? Did you have a good day?”
He stared at me. Then he stated, “Don’t lie to me, Cora.”
“I’m not –”
I stopped speaking when he shook me gently but firmly and semi-repeated, “I said, don’t lie to me.”
I looked into his gorgeous face, into his beautiful eyes, eyes that held mine the entire first time he moved inside me, eyes I could fall in love with and I lost it.
Completely.
I dissolved into tears in his arms, dipping my chin and shoving my face into his chest, my fingers fisting in his shirt by my cheeks as I wailed.
“Sweets, what on earth?” he murmured into the top of my hair and I jerked my head back so fast he had to jerk his up too.
“They hate me!” I cried.
“Who?” he asked.
“Everyone!” I shouted then shoved my face back into his chest and as quickly as I did, I pulled it out, looked through my watery eyes at his face and yelled desperately, “You have to find
a witch! A wizard! There has got to be someone here who knows how to send me home. There’s always some magical type… person who inhabits enchanted animated movies that knows how to help!” I pulled his shirt out then slammed it back in and kept going. “You have to find someone to help. I have to go home. I have to.”
His body grew rock solid against mine but I was too far gone to notice and kept right on babbling.
“They hate me, God! You cannot imagine how much. The other Cora was a bitch!” I screeched the last two words at the top of my lungs. “And I like you. Your world is so beautiful. And you saved Aggie for me. And last night was so… so…” I hiccoughed through my sobs, “good. The best I’ve ever had by, like…” I couldn’t find words to describe how much so I shouted, “A lot! I don’t want to have it once then have to let it go.” I slammed his shirt into his chest and kept wailing, “I told you we shouldn’t do it! Now, forever and ever I’ll remember what we had and want it again and I’ll never have it!” My sobs turned to anger and I yelled, “See! I knew! I tried to tell you but would you listen? No! You jerk!”
“Sweets,” he whispered.
“You owe me!” I cried. “That’s our deal. I gave it up… three times… and now you have to pay. You have to find me a wizard or a gypsy or someone, anyone who knows how to send me home!”
Then I dissolved again, my knees buckling and he caught me in his arms, lifted me up and swung around. I shoved my face into his neck and held onto his shoulders with both arms, my body wracked with tears and I dimly heard the firm, angry beat of his boots hitting the ground as he stalked wherever he was stalking.
“Gods, what on… is she well?” I heard a woman ask.
“Find me Perdita,” Tor growled. “I’ll want an explanation for the state of my wife.”
“No!” I cried, lifting my head and looking at his hard, angry profile. “Don’t blame Perdita. I think she may be the only one who likes me.”
“I gave her charge of you and you’re a gods damned mess.” Tor’s voice rumbled with fury. “So, my love, I’ll bloody well be talking to Perdita.”
My hand went to his cheek and I pleaded, “Please, please, don’t, Tor. You do, you’ll do me no favors.”
“Quiet, Cora,” he commanded low.
“Please, honey!” I cried, swiped at my tears and tried to brighten my tone. “I’ll be okay. It’s just stress. It’s a wonder I haven’t already had a meltdown. I’ll be fine. It’s out of my system.”
“I said quiet,” he clipped.
“Totally out of my system, baby, I promise,” I assured him on a complete lie.
“Quiet!” he thundered and I shut my trap.
Oh boy. Tor was pissed.
Great. Now what had I done?
He strode angrily through the castle, up the gazillion winding, gleaming, marble steps that led to his rooms and into his rooms where he laid me gently down on his bed and straightened.
Looking down at me, he stated, “Rest. I’ll have someone bring you some wine.”
At that, I panicked, sat up and cried, “No! Don’t! Don’t ask anyone to do anything for me!”
Big, big mistake. I knew this when his eyes narrowed ominously.
“Or,” I went on, trying to repair the damage, “actually, wine sounds good.”
Better to see one of his people, who hated me, than endure Tor’s fury, which scared the beejeezus out of me.
“Rest,” he commanded.
“Right,” I whispered.
Then he turned on his boot and stalked off.
“Fucking great,” I muttered and collapsed back on the bed.
* * * * *
I sat curled into the heavy, comfy chair I dragged out onto the balcony patio and sipped at my second glass of wine poured from a delicately carved crystal decanter with a curlicued handle and a whirly stopper that a scurrying, pale-faced, frightened looking, silent woman delivered to me and I stared at the view.
Tor had been gone a long time.
I heard the door open and the angry pounding of boots on marble.
Oh jeez.
I turned to look around the chair and watched him prowl to me.
He didn’t look any less angry.
I bit my lip and took in a deep breath.
He made it to me, I opened my mouth to speak but shut it when he pulled the glass out of my hand, set it on the balustrade, plucked me out of the chair, sat in it, arranged me in his lap, leaned forward and nabbed the wine, handed it to me and then sat back, glowering at the view.
“Uh, is everything all right?” I ventured.
“It bloody well will be,” he growled to the view.
Hmm.
I decided to say no more.
Tor pulled the glass out of my hand and took a huge gulp.
Hmm, again.
Then he spoke again to the view. “You’ll not have any problems in future, Cora. You do, you tell me instantly.”
Oh dear.
I felt it prudent to agree, quickly and softly, so I did. “Okay, honey.”
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
I kind of was. I hadn’t had anything since breakfast.
“Um… yes?” I asked back cautiously and his eyes cut to me.
“You either are or you aren’t, love,” he clipped.
“I am,” I whispered.
“Do you want to eat up here or in the dining room?”
I wanted to ask which dining room since, in my lonely tour of the castle, I saw three.
“Where do you want to eat?” I asked instead.
“Up here,” he grunted. “That way, when we’re done, I don’t have to waste time walking all the way up here to get you in my bed.”
Hmm.
“Okay,” I said quietly.
“Go pull the bell,” he muttered.
“Okay,” I repeated and scrambled off his lap
Halfway across the patio, I chanced a glance back and saw him drain my wineglass.
I bit my lip and turned back.
Oh boy.
* * * * *
Tor was up on a hand, arm straight, body at an angle, his weight distributed on his other forearm which was in the bed, his fingers laced in mine.
And his hips were between my legs, he was inside me, driving deep as his fiery eyes held mine captive.
I was close, so freaking close, God, he was big, he could move and he felt so damned good.
“Tor,” I breathed, communicating it was coming.
He buried himself deep, my neck arched and he stopped.
“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice thick.
I forced my chin down and tried to focus on him.
“Cora, look at me,” he repeated and I blinked the haze away.
“I see you,” I whispered, my hand at his chest running through the hair down to his flat stomach. “Don’t stop, baby.”
He ground his hips into me and I whimpered.
“Who’s inside you?” he demanded to know.
“You,” I answered.
“Who’s inside you?” he repeated and I blinked.
“Honey –”
His elbow bent and my body took on more of his weight as his face became the only thing I could see.
“Who’s fucking you?” he changed his question.
I was confused. “You,” I said again.
“Who am I?”
Oh God, I needed him to move!
“Tor,” I replied breathlessly.
That earned me a violent stroke and heat surged through me.
He stopped again and kept at it. “Who am I?”
“My husband,” I gasped.
Another violent stroke and again, “Who am I?”
“My prince,” I whispered.
“Bloody right,” he growled and his hips started moving faster, harder.
He moved his weight fully to his forearm and his hand slid from my chest, between my breasts and down to my belly.
“Who does this belong to?” he asked.
“My prince,
” I repeated.
His hand went up and cupped my breast firmly. “And this?” he demanded while his cock drove deep and I lifted my knees higher and pressed my thighs tight to him.
Oh God.
“My prince,” I moaned.
His thumb slid roughly across my nipple and a shaft of pleasure shot through me.
Oh God!
“And this?” he continued harshly.
“It belongs to you, my prince,” I breathed.
His fingers left my breast, he pulled my hand away from his belly and pushed both of our hands between our legs, his hand over mine cupping my sex so I could feel his thrusts between our fingers.
His mouth came to mine and he stopped thrusting and started grinding. “Who does this belong to?”
Oh God, God, God.
I closed my eyes and arched my neck again. “You, my prince.”
“Bloody look at me,” he ordered, I did and he started thrusting savagely, I felt him pounding, inside and out. “You’ll not leave,” he ground out, his voice hoarse.
My legs circled his hips but I didn’t answer.
“Cora, say it, you’ll not leave.”
Oh God!
“I’ll not leave,” I whispered.
His eyes kept mine imprisoned as he kept driving deep and I lost it, my back arched, my neck arched and my heels dug into his back as I exploded.
His mouth went to my ear as I climaxed and I felt the sharp nip of his teeth on my earlobe before he gritted, “You’re never going ‘home’.”
Then he shoved his face in my neck and groaned.
When we both came down, Tor guided our hands from between us, let mine go, he pulled out of me then kissed my neck and exited the bed.
I rolled to my side and watched as he strode around the room and extinguished candles and lamps until the only illumination came from the city lights glowing through the huge opened doors.
He joined me in bed and pulled me into his arms, settling me with my cheek on his chest, my thigh over both of his and then his fingers came up and played with the ends of my hair.
I closed my eyes tight.
Okay, shit, what was that all about?
I wasn’t sure but one thing I knew, I was screwed.
The people of his castle and the city hated me, but I could not leave, I could not complain about them or Tor would do something to make them hate me more, if he already hadn’t.