Page 100 of Wickedly Ever After
Hector pushed open the door of the stable.
Ida glanced around with interest. “This is…different.”
He glanced down the empty corridor where various open doors showed the lack of inhabitants. The goblin pony would have the first stall when it arrived, filled to a plush depth withmeadow straw and sweetgrass. The vanilla fragrance filled the place. He led the way to the end of the breezeway where a larger room had been carved into the rock and pushed the door open. “When I used to ride Napoleon here, back when he was alive, I sometimes stayed here. Dragons love to give parties for visiting dignitaries. They can be…intense. One needs a break sometimes. These are supposed to be the groom’s quarters.”
They were roomy, if more spartan than the rooms dragons kept for important guests. But the bed looked inviting, and it still smelled of lavender and sweetgrass when he pulled the sheet back. Immediately upon entry, a tiny candle in the room lit up.
“A candle in a stable?” Ida asked, watching the light fill the space.
“It’s everlasting flame. I conjured it to be safe. Fire is sacred to the dragons. Whenever there’s a fire in a house or a heart, it becomes magic—”
He didn’t get any further. Ida pulled him down and kissed him. The candle flickered brightly, burned hot and hard, blazing against the wall. How could he have ever missed how beautiful she was, her eyes so bright, her curiously changeable hair curling over her shoulders. He reached, trembling, and undid the clips holding it all back.
She undressed him slowly, sliding her hands beneath his robe. It dropped down to his ankles. “Well, I see you like to keep things well-aired.”
He flushed, feeling the heat all through his arms, chest, and groin. “I took a bath. I didn’t feel like putting on my dirty things afterward.”
“Me either.” She eased his hands underneath the shoulders of her robe. He slipped the fabric down to her waist. The warmlight cast shadows over all the lovely places he wanted to be. But there was one thing he had to do, had to say.
“Ida. I’ve never had sex before. I mean, I have studied the procedure—”
She cupped his cheek with one hand and planted a kiss on his lips, long, lingering. Her warm skin pressed against his, and he sighed and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against him.
“It’s been a long time for me too,” she said.
“How long?”
“A very, very long time.” She laughed. “And it’s been a long time since I studied the procedure too.”
He choked on a laugh. “We’re supposed to be in charge of Happily-Ever-After, and neither of us knows how to make love.” He kissed the top of her head, pressing his nose into her sweet-smelling hair. Roses. Red roses. He drew in the scent, and all fear left him.
“I don’t know about that,” Ida whispered. “Let’s find out how much wedoknow.”
He pulled her down into the bed with him.
46
Ida
The very best part about a breakup is the makeup.
Magic and Mischief—A Thousand Years of Happily-Ever-After: A Memoir
Ida North
It had been more than eight centuries since Ida had been in bed with anyone. She’d not forgotten the man’s face, or the way he thought he was the Gods’ gift to women. She’d not forgiven the way he handled himself, expecting his body would be enough to pleasure any manner of woman, any shape, any configuration—one cock to fill them all. She remembered him very well.
Hector was nothing like him.
He fumbled his way through sex, clearly trying so hard, until she pushed him over on his back and took over. He seemed delighted by the change of position, and the warm glow filled his eyes, already alight with candle flame.
“Thank you,” he said. “I was wondering when you’d punch me.”
She laughed and bent over him, forehead to his lips. “You were trying. Believe me, trying goes a long way to making anywoman happy.”
“I don’t want to make any woman happy. I want to makeyouhappy.”
“You great flatterer. Are you sure you haven’t done this before?” His heart pounded in her chest as much for her as him. She flexed her hips, feeling the slight ache from that riding accident long ago. She’d be sore from a different kind of ride tonight, but Hector’s trembling hands rested on the small of her back, and Gods help her, he was so involved, so intensely passionate, even in his clumsy attempts to do everything by the book. “Hector, touch me here.” She guided his hands to her breasts. “Like what you did in the inn, where you—”
