She finally pulled away when she was sure she’d gotten all he had.
Kachka sat up, his cock still inside her, and grinned down at him.
“I don’t know why you have that look on your face, Kachka Shestakova,” he said as he wrapped his arm around her waist and stood. He pulled her off and turned her, placing her face down over the boulder, and roughly entering her * from behind.
“We are not nearly done,” he rasped against her ear before he began fucking her again, burying himself deep inside her with each thrust.
“Good,” she told him between gasps, “I was . . . about to . . . be . . . disappointed.”
Gaius shared his flask of water with Kachka before putting his arm around her shoulders and pulling her naked body in close to his side.
He was afraid that she would try to pull away, but she didn’t. She relaxed into him but didn’t cling, which he definitely preferred.
“I thought you never went back,” he reminded her.
She dismissed that with a wave of her hand. “You are not even human, so shut up.”
“I have to admit, I do enjoy fucking you.”
“Thank you. I can promise, the feeling is mutual.”
After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Kachka lifted her head and asked, “Did I kill Zoya Shestakova?”
“No. But you did try.”
“Yes. I could not quite remember. But she ducked in time. That is good.”
“I didn’t think she could move so fast.”
“The Mountain Movers do not let their size stop them. I am glad I missed her. She has turned out to be good for our group. I would feel . . . bad if I had taken off her giant head.”
“That is so big of you.”
“It is.”
Gaius chuckled. “The suns will be up soon.”
“Yes.”
“Do you want to go back to the camp? Get some rest before we have to ride?”
“No.”
“Okay.”
“Why? Do you?”
“Actually no. I’m comfortable here.”
She peered up at him. “Do you want to go on being comfortable?”
Gaius took in a deep breath. “Not particularly.”
“Good.” Then her head was in his lap and her mouth was swallowing his cock whole.
Gaius’s eyes crossed and he dropped his head back against the boulder they rested against.
His toes curled and that’s when Gaius realized he’d never actually taken his leggings completely off.
Of course, he wasn’t about to bother with that now. Not when he could barely put two cohesive words together. Instead, he just stroked the back of Kachka’s bobbing head and thanked the gods for taking such excellent care of him the last few years.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Dagmar held up the dried bit of meat and watched her dogs watch her. They sat tall, proud, and drooling in the courtyard. She wasn’t a fan of the drooling, but it was the one thing she couldn’t get rid of through breeding. And reason knew she’d tried.
Still, they were strong, they lived nearly a decade longer than most dogs their size, and they were loyal until death.
So if Dagmar had to put up with a little drool, that’s exactly what she would do.
“Where is she?”
Surprised, Dagmar turned and saw Rhiannon standing there. And she was seething. She didn’t think she’d ever seen the Dragon Queen seething. Not like this.
“Where’s Bercelak?”
“At home. Where is she?”
Dagmar sighed. “Annwyl? What did she do now?”
“No. Not Annwyl. But take me to her.” Rhiannon walked off, barking over her shoulder, “Now, Northlander!”
Dagmar tossed treats to her dogs, then followed the angry queen.
Rhiannon was substantially taller than she so her strides were long. Dagmar had to run to catch up with her, her dogs running alongside her.
By the time she reached the Dragon Queen, she was panting and Dagmar didn’t like it one bloody bit.
Rhiannon lifted her robes and charged up the stairs and into the house.
Morfyd and Talaith were chatting on the stairs—probably gossiping—but they stopped when they witnessed Rhiannon storm by.
“Mum?” Morfyd asked her mother’s back, brows raised at Dagmar.
Dagmar threw up her hands and continued to follow, while Morfyd and Talaith fell in line behind them.
Rhiannon cut through the entire house, and continued out the back and into the forest. She didn’t stop until she reached a small clearing.
Dagmar saw Annwyl and Talwyn sparring with short swords and shields. And watching them were the three giant Riders.
“What are those Riders doing?” Talaith asked.
“They never leave her side,” Dagmar pointed out. “They escort her to her room at night . . . which apparently is freaking out poor Fearghus.”
“I can’t blame him.”
“I think Annwyl likes them, though. They’re quiet when she reads.”
Talaith glared at her. “Are you saying I talk too much?”
“Everyone says you talk too much. You’re only outdone by your own daughters.”