Page 59 of A Darkness So Sweet

A clanking noise in the kitchen caught his attention. He hadn’t expected her to cook, not when there were plenty of other trolls that enjoyed cooking and were readily happy to trade services for cooking. At least then he didn’t have to do it.

He walked through the doorway and froze at the vision before him.

She wore traditional troll garb, although it was modest for his people. The dress was sewn to look like dragon scales. The pinched green fabric created triangles up and down the tightened bodice and then disappeared into the skirt that clung to her broad hips and strong glutes. Her arms were bare, a dusting of freckles covering the sun kissed skin that was just now starting to become less red and more of a tanned burnish. Her hair was swept back from her features, the long sway of the tail at the top of her head moving as she fairly flew throughout the entirety of the kitchen.

The air smelled strongly of rosemary and freshly baked bread. He could see a few loaves of it were already out, and he suspected there were plenty more of them in the oven if the entire room smelled like this.

But all of his attention was on her. On the graceful sway of her hips as she turned toward his massive oven and pulled more bread out of the heat there. On the freckles that he desperately wanted to lick, and the way her hair swayed so temptingly at the middle of her back, pointing where he could loosen that dress and rip it off of her.

He reached above his head, bracing his arm on the doorframe just so that he didn’t fly at her and devour her whole.

Maia finally noticed him and nearly dropped the bread in her hands. “Oh! Ragnar. I didn’t hear you return.”

“I’m quiet.”

“Clearly,” she replied, her gaze on him like he was about to pounce on her at any moment. Maybe she could see it in his eyes.

His claws dug into the stone. “Why are you making so much bread?”

She set the bread on the counter next to the row of them that were already waiting. “Inkeri said there were a lot of families that were affected by the cave-in. So I wanted to make sure that everyone had a chance to eat. It... Well, it’s the least I could do.”

“You’ve already helped enough, Maia.”

She blinked. “Why wouldn’t I do more? People need help. I’m able to give it.”

He wanted to say that many weren’t willing to give that help. But there were no words on his tongue, only need. He barreled across the room like a man possessed, grabbing her by the waist and setting her on top of the counter next to all the bread.

“Ragnar!” she said, her hands slapping on the stone behind her as she stared at him in surprise. He stood between her spread legs, drinking in the sight of her in the garb of the trolls, and he couldn’t help himself. He palmed the back of her neck and kissed her.

Ragnar had no idea how to kiss a human. With trolls, there were only certain angles that worked. Mostly because of their tusks, and no one wanted to crack those together. But with a human, kissing was all soft skin and warm, pliant lips. Maia melted into him, just like she had last night. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her back arching to press her chest against him.

Kissing her felt like the entire world ceased to be. Like he could only focus on the way her lips moved beneath his, and the way she let out a little gasp when he caught her lower lip and gently bit it.

She pulled back after that, breathing hard and staring at his tusks with curious intent. “Are you... You’ll be careful with these?”

“Wasn’t I careful before?” Ragnar rasped, heat flooding through his body at the memory of the last time he’d tasted her. “I don’t remember you complaining the last time, wife.”

“Oh, you mean to...” Her face turned bright red, and he thought that was his new favorite color. The deep blush that spread across her face, down her neck, and all the way down her chest was so lovely because he knew exactly what it meant.

He fell to his knees before her, the countertop putting her at the perfect height for him to glide the fabric of her skirt over her thighs. He took his time feeling the warm skin, drawing his claws up her inner thighs and watched the bumps raise wherever he touched.

“I have missed your taste, wife,” he murmured, rubbing his tusks just beside her knee and starting a slow journey upward.

“Didn’t you just...” She shuddered as he pressed a wet kiss to her skin. “You just did this.”

“You think once is enough?”

“I would think once every other week would suffice.”

He yanked the fabric up to her hips, using that movement to control her body and splay her out for his pleasure. And gods, she was beautiful. All smooth skin and freckles leading to a small thatch of hair that hid all the world’s treasures from his gaze.

He would beg her if she wanted him to. And as he stared up her body at her red face and strangely flustered expression, he had a feeling that was exactly what she needed right now. “Weekly isn’t enough. Daily is hardly enough. I will never stop wanting to taste you.”

“That’s…” she whispered, her cheeks going even redder.

His claws flexed against her hips. “Please, wife. Let me taste you.”

Something flared in her eyes. It was like he could see another being awaken underneath her skin, suddenly discovering a desire that she hadn’t realized she had. A desire that she wished to feed.

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