Last Dragon Standing

“It’s all right,” Keita whispered against his mouth. “Just relax. You’re doing fine.”

No. He wasn’t doing fine. How could he concentrate on this kiss or any other when the itching was driving him beyond reason? He needed that damn antidote before he went any further.

Ragnar began to speak at the same time Keita came in for another kiss. Finding his mouth open, she slipped her tongue inside, brushed up against his. Ragnar’s body shuddered, and his hands unclenched so he could grip her waist and pull her closer to his body.

And that irritating scar on his chest? Momentarily forgotten.

The pious Lightning was a fast learner, his tongue boldly moving around hers while his arms held her tight against him.

Keita tilted her head to the side, relaxed into him, and let the kiss go on. Perhaps not much experience at this sort of thing while human, but definitely a quick learner.

Her body heated under her dress, her ni**les hardening, and her pu**y clenching with the need for something to fill it. When she started to squirm on his lap, Keita pulled out of their kiss.

Both panting, they stared at each other. Keita had no idea how long, it felt like hours.

“Keita!” she heard from near the fortress. It was her brother, Éibhear.

She closed her eyes and reached out to her brother with her mind.

What?

Where are you?

In the west fields. What is it?

Dinner in the hour.

And?

Well…I know you like to dress for that sort of thing, so I’m letting you know beforehand so you don’t yell at me later that I didn’t give you enough time!

Don’t get testy! I’ll be right there.

All right. Oh. And have you seen Lord Ragnar?

Why?

Vigholf was looking for him, and Briec, being a right bastard, said,

“Oh, you didn’t know? We took him down to the river and drowned him.” And Vigholf went for his weapon, and Fearghus said, “Do that, Lightning, and I’ll let my wench cut off the rest of your head.” And I said, “Can we not do this now?” And then I told Fearghus, “And don’t call Annwyl wench.” And he shoved me. So I shoved him back. And that really pissed him off, and then he and Briec ganged up on me. And I said, “I’m telling Mum!” And then they laughed at me, and I don’t think that was fair at all.

Keita’s baby brother went on, but it was the shaking beneath her that had her opening her eyes and staring at the warlord she had her arms wrapped around. The laughing warlord.

Éibhear, she cut in. Don’t let them worry you. I’ll be back in a bit.

Ragnar’s fine.

All right.

Her brother ended their communication, and Keita grabbed hold of Ragnar the Cunning by that one braid his brother no longer had.

“Ow!”

“Were you listening?”

“My gods, he whines so!”

She yanked.

“Ow!”

“How do you do that? How is that possible?” Only direct kin could hear each other’s thoughts.

Ragnar caught her hand and pulled it off his hair. “Neither of you shield your thoughts. Any good mage, this close, could hear you two like you were screaming in his ear. Especially with that level of whining.”

“My brother does not whine.” She grabbed his braid again, yanked.

“Ow!”

“Stay out of my head, warlord!”

“Try to control where your thoughts go, princess.”

“And that sounded like prince-ass!”

He smirked. “Are we going back before your baby brother starts sobbing?”

She pointed a warning finger at him. “Never, and I mean never, pick on my brother.”

“Isn’t he a little big to coddle?”

Keita slid off Ragnar’s lap and stood. “You will stay out of my head.”

“Why? What are you hiding from me?”

“Nothing, but it’s rude and invasive. And as powerful as you claim to be, you should have as easy a time blocking out what you hear as you do hearing it.”

“If you say so.”

“I do. Now can we go?”

The warlord got to his feet, moving with an ease belied by his size. To be honest, she always expected him to lumber a bit more.

“Now remember,” she told him, smoothing down her dress, her hair,

“just let me take the lead on this and all will be well. We can decide later if we want to take that kiss further.”

Ragnar’s arm wrapped around her waist as he walked by, pulling her into his chest. “You’re trying to drive me insane—I won’t let you.”

“I am not—”

“And we will damn well take that kiss further.”

“Oh, you think so, do—”

He kissed her again, stunning her with the power of it. But as quickly as he started, he ended it, releasing her with a hard swat to her ass.

“Let’s go, princess. You have to get dressed for dinner and get me that damn antidote.”

“I’ll have to have it made, so you’ll get it after dinner or tomorrow.

And I’m still hearing prince- ass!” she shouted.

Amhar the Blood Drinker watched his niece follow after that Lightning. He’d been so focused on the carcass at his feet that he’d thought she’d gone inside long ago. But when he lifted his head, she was just standing up in the tall grass and the Lightning was right behind her.

Amhar didn’t like the looks of all that. Especially that swat to the ass.