“You will not!” I gasped. “That is humiliating!”

Wylf sat beside me, and some of my embarrassment gave way to giddy warmth when his arm came to rest so naturally around my shoulders. He called to Barra to start moving, the path still clear from our last ride, and turned his face down to me as the sleigh rocked forward.

“My passion for you is humiliating?”

“Well, no,” I sputtered, cheeks flaming. “But other people use this sleigh you know! They don’t need to know what happened here!”

“Hmm,” Wylfrael said, sounding thoughtful even though his eyes danced with something wicked. “I rather like that everyone would know. Perhaps I will not even fix it. Will leave it as a sharp reminder of the first time I claimed you.”

“Leave it like that so someone can hurt themselves? No, thank you!” I glared at him. “Just smooth it out like you did to make that mirror in our room!”

He made another thoughtful noise, rumbling in his chest.

“And what do I get out of this deal?” he asked, his nose brushing my temple. My pulse quickened when I realized he’d gotten his hand beneath my skirt, running it up over my knee and skimming his palm up my inner thigh.

“You get a bench that won’t slice anybody’s ass open,” I moaned. “Does everything have to be bargains and deals with you?”

He chuckled softly, the timbre of his voice making my body react so viscerally that my legs parted without even thinking about it. He nudged my silk panties aside, sliding a finger against my flesh, drawing wetness out of me and coating the folds still tender from last night. I shivered and turned to him, already forgetting the stupid bench, which drew another dark laugh from my husband.

“Kisses were a good way to stop your questions and your arguments. I wish I’d known that this was even more effective,” he purred, sliding slick fingers up to my clit and tapping it gently, making my hips jump off the bench.

“Wylf,” I groaned, half in complaint, half in need.

“Don’t worry, beloved. What my wife wants, my wife gets. I’ll fix the bench.”

I sighed and relaxed into Wylf’s mouth as he kissed me. As if sensing I was swollen and sensitive from last night, he didn’t fuck me with his fingers. Instead, he stroked leisurely, languorous circles over my clit, easing me up to my orgasm slowly, the build a warm and luxurious spread through my core. It didn’t take long, even with his slow pace. Everything about him aroused me, even the parts I clashed with.

I panted against his mouth, hips grinding, riding his hand as I came. I’d barely recovered, my head swimming on a sea of oxytocin and serotonin, when I felt his hands moving, pulling his cock free.

Oh, no you don’t. If he could tease me about the bench, then I could do even more.

I smiled at him sweetly, batting my lashes, much the same way I had so long ago in the library when I’d been showing him just how wickedly good I could be at pretending to be his wife. And, much like that time, wariness crept into Wylf’s features. His cheek tightened when I ran a single gloved finger up the stiff length of his cock.

“Do you want me to touch you, husband?”

Wylfrael’s brows crashed downward.

“You know I do. What kind of question is that?” he growled.

“Hmm. Do you want me to suck you?”

His cock pulsed against my finger, a silent reply to my question.

“Yes,” Wylf gritted out.

“Well. I will take that under advisement,” I chirruped. “Stop, Barra!”

I said that last part in Sionnachan, having learned a few commands by now. The elegant sontanna slowed, and while my husband watched me in irritated astonishment, I jumped out of the sleigh to the snow below. Panting, legs shaking, and a grin splitting my face from ear to ear, I made a snowball and threw it as hard as I could.

It didn’t hit him in the face like I’d been aiming, but close enough. It hit his chest, exploding in a powdery puff, cold flakes falling down on his throbbing erection.

He rose instantly, wings snapping open, a predatory darkness entering his face, hardening his jaw. Between the look on his face and the inescapable demand of his erection, a giddy, pulsing, arousing fear filled me. I shrieked, starting to run, past the sleigh, past Barra, and onto the smooth path ahead. My legs were so weak from the orgasm that my boots slid more than stepped as I alternated squealing in delighted fear and laughing. I allowed myself a look back which made my breath nearly stop in my throat. Wylfrael was stalking me, like an animal, following me down the path he’d created with demanding hunger in his eyes. He could have used his wings and caught me in an instant, but he was enjoying drawing this out, enjoying watching me slide and pant and try to escape.

“Oh, shit!” I cried when he used his power to raise a massive chunk of snow, bigger than any snowball I could have made. It floated over until it was poised right above my head. I tried to run faster, but the huge snowball followed me, like a storm cloud tethered to my head

“No, Wylf!” I shrieked, stopping running and covering my head. It wasn’t enough snow to hurt – this snow was too powdery and light anyway. But it was still a lot. If he let it drop on my head, I’d be completely covered, frigidness slipping into every nook and cranny, saturating my hair and sliding down the back of my neck. Wylfrael finally caught up, never rushing, never hurrying, the immortal bastard. He came to a stop before me.

“Sorry,” I cooed, still fighting laughter that was both terrified and elated.

“And here I thought you said you weren’t a liar,” he drawled darkly. “I do not believe that you are sorry.”

I couldn’t stop the laughter. It bubbled out of my throat.

“OK, you caught me,” I said.

“So I have.”

Reminded of the threat he held literally over my head, I held my breath and hunched down, waiting to be doused in a blanket of cold white.

But it didn’t come. Hesitantly, I opened one scrunchy eye, then the other.

The snowball was no longer a ball, but a dispersed fluffy cloud over my head. Even though the sky was clear and pink, all sun today, it was snowing on me. One of Wylf’s hands was raised as he shredded bits of snow off from overhead so that they gently dusted my hair, my shoulders, my nose.

I could tell he was even controlling the descent of the snowflakes. They barely fell. They floated, which made me feel like I was in my own magical snow globe of his creation. After expecting the rush of cold falling down around me, this soft, gentle flutter of sparkling white crystals took my breath away. So did Wylfrael’s expression – no longer one of an irritated hunter but one of adoration so poignant it almost looked like pain.

In awe of the cascading wonder he’d created, my heart so full that no human method of measurement could ever comprehend it, I fell to my knees and finally took my husband’s cock into my mouth.

WHEN WE RETURNED TO the castle, entering through the kitchen, Wylfrael insisted that I eat something.

“I don’t see how I possibly could,” I chided, “considering how you just pumped my mouth and stomach full of-”

I slammed my mouth shut so hard my teeth clattered when I saw Aiko in the kitchen.

Wylfrael laughed behind me, deep and throaty. “What was that, my beloved wife? I don’t think Aiko quite got all of that.”

I cast him what I hoped was a cutting glance before holding up my hand to Aiko and muttering, “Don’t even ask.”

Wylf scooped two bowls of stew from the crystal counter, carrying them up to our room as I hobbled along like a newborn deer. He’d made me come twice more on the sleigh ride back, and I felt like every joint in my body had been replaced with soggy sponge.

“I wasn’t kidding when I said I couldn’t eat that,” I said, throwing myself into a huge crystal chair and sprawling across its seat. “I’m too nervous.”