Dana Bell - Morgan's Fate

“Agreed.” Val threw a dagger at Grimm, smiling as it landed in the middle of his father’s chest. “That should hold him for a bit.”

Morgan’s hold on her tightened as his eyes scanned her for injuries. “I hate that fucker.”

“Amen, brother.” Magnus sighed as Sleipnir, apparently feeling right at home in the warrior god’s arms, snuggled close. “Amen.”

Skye woke slowly, all the aches and pains of the battle with Odin making themselves known. She glanced over at Morgan, smiling as she took in his nude form.

They’d made love before falling asleep, a slow, easy loving that didn’t hurt either of their bruises. He’d fallen asleep on top of the comforter, curling around her and snuggling, her head tucked under his chin. Morgan was someone who needed touch like some needed air. But in his sleep he’d rolled over onto his back, his legs splayed wide, his arms thrown out to either side of him.

Yet, even now, one of his hands rested on her hip, and he was rock hard. That thick, long prick jerked under her gaze. From the look on his face he was having one hell of a dream.

She’d have to see what she could do to make that dream come true.

She slid out of bed as quietly as possible and went to the bathroom, careful to make sure the door was closed. She didn’t want to wake him, but her mouth tasted like something furry had crawled in and died three days ago.

When she was done she tiptoed across the carpet, sliding back into bed as quietly as she could. It was time to show him how much his love and protection meant to her. Some of those bruises he bore because of her, and she was going to kiss each and every one of them.

She started by slowly easing her way down to the foot of the bed. Long, strong legs tapered to large feet. Even those were bruised, so she delicately kissed the tops before moving up to his calves. His brow furrowed, but he remained still, his expression slowly smoothing back into sleep.

Each and every mark Grimm had put on his body she kissed, moving up to his thighs and a particularly nasty one that would make moving difficult for him. He didn’t appear to have Logan’s miraculous healing ability. Neither twin did. But whereas Magnus was busy taking care of Sleipnir, she was here to make sure that Morgan was the one who was pampered.

The way Sleipnir had curled up against Magnus, the protective way Magnus was reacting toward the pale man, made her think that maybe Sleipnir wanted to pamper Magnus.

When she stroked the nasty bruise he hissed, swatting at her. She backed off, waiting until he settled back down before pressing her lips to a bruise just below and to the right of his belly button.

A drop of pre-come glistened at the head of his cock, and she desperately wanted to taste it. But not yet. He deserved to have her acknowledge each wound, love on them as much as she could.

Her hero. Her warrior.

Hers.

“Good morning,” he muttered breathlessly.

She glanced up at him through her lashes, her mouth close to his weeping cock, and knew what he thought had been going on. “Good morning.”

He grinned, a sleepy one that made him look boyish and so endearing her heart stuttered in its beat. “See anything you like?”

She rolled her eyes. “I was kissing your bruises, not your ego.”

Oh, look at that pout. “You don’t like my ego?” He stared down at his dick with sad eyes. “He’s, like, my bestest friend ever.”

She hid her face in his thigh with a groan, trying not to laugh.

Morgan patted her on the head. “You’re my second bestest friend.”

Skye patted his cock. “Should I leave you two alone? You haven’t shaken hands and said hello yet.”

He started to laugh, then groaned. “Please don’t make me laugh.”

She crawled up the bed until they were side by side, her hand resting lightly on his chest. “Are you hurt worse than you’re telling me?”

“No, elskede . I’m bruised, not broken.” He pulled her into his arms, not letting her go until her head rested on his chest. “I’ll be fine.”

She decided to voice her concerns. Sleipnir had latched onto Magnus, not his father, and had chosen to go home with Morgan’s twin. “Will Magnus be all right?”

Morgan was silent for far longer than Skye had thought he would be. She glanced up, thinking he might have fallen asleep, only to find his gaze on her. He began toying absently with her hair. “I think Kir might have been right.”

“That Magnus will have two people in his life?”

Morgan nodded. “And I think I know who the second one will be.” When she tried to sit up his hold on her tightened. “Don’t worry, Skye.” His grin was full of warmth and mischief. “I know who it is he’s been waiting for, and if she can get her head out of her ass she’ll be perfect for him.”

“As long as she doesn’t hurt Sleipnir.”

Morgan nodded. “Yeah.” He snuggled her closer, and Skye kissed his chest as he sighed wearily. “Yeah.”

Magnus was startled to find Sif pacing outside the condo complex. He pulled Sleipnir tighter to his side, determined to protect the damaged man from her. Sif had clearly sided with their enemies and, as much as it pained Magnus, Sleipnir’s safety had to come first.

Sleipnir still hadn’t completely recovered from the whipping Grimm had given him, but he’d persuaded Magnus to take him on a short walk outside. He’d been locked up for so long, only let out when Grimm allowed it, that he was chafing under the restrictions the others had voluntarily placed upon themselves.

He’d taken well to life away from Grimm. He didn’t smile nearly as often as Magnus would like, but he basked in Logan’s constant hovering. The Jotun was trying desperately to make up for lost time, and Sleipnir was eating it up. He’d even chosen a mortal name that honored Logan: Slade Saeter.

Magnus liked it. Slade just seemed to fit the fragile-seeming man who’d shocked them all with his strength. He’d literally waited centuries to be free, biding his time, hiding in plain sight and taking risks that made Magnus’s hair stand on end.

The knowledge that he’d immediately chosen Magnus as his own? No one had ever chosen Magnus. He was the hot-headed twin, the one the others avoided. To know Sleipnir relied on Magnus to keep him safe made him feel ten feet tall.

But Magnus wasn’t stupid. Logan would tear him a new one if Sleipnir so much as stubbed his toe, so he’d immediately called Logan and Kir to walk with them. No way would Logan allow his injured child out alone. It had taken some fast talking, but they’d agreed to let him out.

It just figured that the first person they saw was a woman Magnus would have once given his left nut for.

He glared at Sif, but it was half-hearted at best. Why did she always look so lost? It tore at him almost as much as Sleipnir’s injuries did. One wore his pain on the outside, while the other bore hers on the inside. “What are you doing here?”

Sif bit her lip, looking so uncertain, so fragile. He’d never understood why his father had chosen to turn away from her. He adored Jeanne, but Sif?

Sif was everything Magnus had dreamed a woman should be. Too bad she’d once been his stepmother.

Sleipnir whimpered, hiding his face against Magnus’s chest. To Magnus’s surprise, Sif blushed beet red at the sight. “I…”

“You?” Kir and Logan stepped in front of Magnus, more than likely preparing to protect Sleipnir. What they thought Sif would do to him, Magnus didn’t know. She’d been fierce and brave when she’d been with his father, but even she wouldn’t dream of challenging Baldur.

She straightened her shoulders as if facing a firing squad. She took one long, odd look at Magnus before turning her attention to Kir. “I want to join with you.”