Мэри Дэвидсон - Canis Royal Bridefight

Damon poked his head through the doorway. “I will retire.” She bolted upright, and her complacency utterly vanished. “Gaaaaah! Don’t you dare!”

“I only wished to come to my room for a brief rest. I had a tiring morning, in case you did not see.” He was approaching the bed with an innocent look on his face, which instantly put her on her guard.

“Fine, I’ll go back to my room. I mean the queen’s room. I mean…” She trailed off. Where the hell was she going to go? If she stayed in the castle, she either had to sleep in the dead queen’s chambers, or with Damon here in his chambers, or…what? “Jeez,” she said, “I wonder…maybe I should wish myself home and this whole thing will seem like a narcotic-induced dream. Maybe I—mmph!”

Damon had pounced on the bed, jumping a good eight feet across the room, and landed on top of her with one of his big hands clamped over her mouth. “Do not,” he warned, his eyes two inches from her own. “Do not wish yourself away.”

“ Myyyyy uzzz ussss inking, ooooo oron!” 
 “Do you swear not to wish yourself away today?” 
She glared at him over his fingers. “ Gnnnnggg nnggghh, ooo urg!” 
 “Do you swear, Lois?” 
“ Mmph.” 
 He removed his hand. She made a fist and thumped him in the middle of the

forehead. “I was just thinking out loud, you moron. Don’t pounce on me like a big cat. Even if you are one sometimes. I just about peed the bed.” “I apologize if you were startled. I did not wish to make you pee. I was unwilling to give you up so quickly.” He shifted so he was lying beside her, propped on one elbow.

She rolled on her side so they were facing each other. “Look, what is it with you? And me? I’m a nobody.” He opened his mouth. “Don’t interrupt again! I’m not anybody important, and you’re gonna be king someday. You could have anybody you wanted.”

“That is true. And now I have.”

“No, seriously.”

“Yes, seriously.”

“Damon! I mean it.”

“As do I. Lois, did no one ever tell you? You are beautiful and courageous and wry and if those things were not enough for me—and they are, good lady—you bear the marks of a warrior.”

“That’s cellulite, Damon.”

“You have fought battles.”

“Battles with Ring Dings and Ho-Hos, yeah.”

He ignored her lameass jokes. “You willingly place yourself in danger to help others. This is the true mark of a queen; this is why you were meant to be my mate. I—I did not ask you because it seemed obvious to me. To my family. And because once I found you, I did not wish to look for another. Nor did I wish to lose you to another. Did you not wonder why my good brothers and my father were also vying for your hand?”

“Oh, God, now you’ve given me a whole new thing to fret about.” Against her will, she felt a warm glow at his words, which rang with sincerity. “You mean I could have been your stepmother?”

“No.” This was said with such finality that she didn’t crack a joke. “But we did feel it was fortuitous that you should arrive at such a time, during the Bridefight.”

“Yeah, about that…you guys do that every so often, to pick wives? From princes on down? So it’s like—like a Canis Royal? Except you’re all cats. So what would that be? What’s Latin for cat? Felis Royal? Felix Royal? Shit. I took Spanish in high school, which isn’t exactly helpful right now. Gato Royal?”

He waited until she was finished babbling, then said, “I do apologize, because I did you wrong. I thought—I thought you might be happy to be queen one day and if you were not happy…I hoped you would like me in time and be glad you stayed, and were my mate. I knew you had nowhere to stay, and thought you would wish to stay here. With me.”

“I did like you, before you pulled this stunt, you big goober. Now I’ve got to wonder what else you have up your sleeve. When you bother to wear sleeves. Thanks for getting dressed before coming in, by the way.”

“I did see you attempting to look everywhere but below our waists,” he teased. “Are you never allowed to run free in your own land?”

“It’s heavily discouraged,” she said dryly. “And I’ve arrested my share of nudists. It’s actually against our laws to be naked in public.”

“It is breaking a law ?” He gaped at her.

“Uh-huh.”

“But what a good thing you are here now! You should not be forced to cover your skin if you do not wish it.”

“It really hasn’t been a problem before. Listen, Damon—now what? I mean, I can’t stay here and be—you know. Married.”

“Why?”

She sputtered. “Wh—because—we—well, we haven’t even known each other two days, how about that?”

“This is not uncommon in my world—which is now your world,” he pointed out.

She grunted and started to sit up, but he threw an arm across her middle and pulled her back down. She wriggled briefly, but it was like she was a tree trying to get free of the ground. “Oh, come on,” she said, disgusted.

“Peace, Lois. I need rest, and I daresay you do, also. If you wish to leave in the morning, I will not stop you.”

“…really?” Now, why was that so damned disappointing?

“Really. But for now, rest. Perhaps things will seem less odd in the morning.”

“Don’t bet on it.” But she let herself relax against him. She was tired. Exhausted, more likely. A shitload had happened in forty-eight hours. It was enough to make any girl’s head spin. And she wasn’t just any girl. She was the goddamned princess of the

realm.

Even in her head, it sounded ridiculous.

The last thing she felt before she fell asleep was Damon’s hands, gently stroking her back.

Chapter 8

She slept deeply, which was still a novelty to her. At home she’d slept poorly, if at all—her throbbing knee had killed her sleep and her dreams. But here there was no pain, and each night falling asleep was like sinking into a luxurious cloud. It was hard to worry about her problems—didn’t take her long to get a whole new bunch of them, either—when she was so sinfully comfortable.

And she was warm , really very warm, but it felt wonderful, and smelled wonderful, and why was her blanket nuzzling her neck?

She opened her eyes. She couldn’t see Damon’s face, because it was pressed into her throat. He was kissing her neck and gently nibbling the flesh between her ear and shoulder. Goosebumps raced up her entire left side. She smacked his shoulder, which was not unlike smacking a cinder block.

“Rest!” she hollered at the ceiling. “You said rest .” There wasn’t much light—so, the wee hours of the morning, then. Or the middle of the night. “Sneaky bastard.”

He pulled back and looked at her. The light was poor, but she could see the gleam of his eyes, even in the near-dark. “Please,” he said huskily. “Please, Lois.”

“This isn’t another trick, is it?” she said suspiciously. She was out of breath, which was irritating. “If we do the wild thing, it doesn’t mean I’m fated to be the dowager queen or have kittens or something, does it?”

He blinked. “No.”

“And it doesn’t mean you’re off the hook, right?”

“Off the—no, I don’t believe so.”

“Okay. Just so we’re clear. This doesn’t mean anything, and I’m still mad at you.”

“Agreed.”

“Okay. Then love me, you big idiot. Right now.”

So he did. And she was lost.

He was hands and mouth and tongue and teeth, and big glorious dick. She hadn’t seen one that size since—well, ever. Ropy with veins and throbbing against her hand and thrusting out at her from a nest of gingery pubic hair, she stroked it and played with it and marveled at it while he groaned against her neck. Then his mouth was on hers, his tongue was stroking her teeth, and his hands were rubbing up and down her body. It was relaxing and arousing at the same time.