Bound And Becharmed

Bound and Becharmed Kate Hill All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2006 Kate Hill

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ISBN (10) 1-59596-392-8

ISBN (13) 978-1-59596-392-5

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Chapter One Brendon shook his head and muttered to himself as he followed the brook to Greenhill Castle, the most famous inn for magical folk visiting Ireland. His aunt owned the castle and kept merchandise from Brendon’s family’s shoe factory in stock at the inn’s gift shop. Though leprechauns were known for their shoemaking skill, Brendon’s family had a reputation of being the absolute best. Their shoes were the most stylish and lasted for ages. Brendon’s father was so confident in his product that he offered a twohundred-year guarantee with each pair of footwear. Brendon was now on his way to make a delivery, a full sack of shoes slung over each broad shoulder. It annoyed him a bit that he was always selected to make deliveries, yet he could understand the necessity. The road between his family home and Greenhill Castle was guarded by an ogre with a sour disposition. While the ogre often harassed Brendon’s brothers, it had quickly learned not to victimize Brendon himself, for he wasn’t an average leprechaun. At six-feet-two-inches, Brendon had already made the magical record book as the world’s tallest leprechaun. In his younger years, he’d slouched to hide his height (as if that could work!) and repressed his tremendous appetite to keep himself from appearing larger than necessary. Unfortunately, the skinnier he got, the taller he looked. For years he watched his brothers court and marry tiny winged fairies who fawned over their perfectly-proportioned leprechaun physiques -- for everyone knows that leprechauns are exquisitely handsome and well-muscled men who just happen to be under three feet tall. Try as he might, no female fairy so much as glanced at Brendon, let alone accepted a date when he garnered the courage to ask. Some were polite and told him they already had a boyfriend. Others laughed in his face.

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The rudest he’d ever met had tossed her shimmering blond hair over her shoulder, flapped her gossamer wings until she floated high enough to look down her tiny nose at him and said, “You can’t be serious. No fairy in her right mind could possibly contemplate being seen with you, let alone attempting to take you to bed. I shudder to think about the size of certain parts of you.” She’d flown off, leaving Brendon practically snorting fire. Rather than wound him, her words had proved that no matter what he did, he was going to be big. If no Irish fairy would have him, so be it, but no more cowering like some overgrown dolt. From that day on, Brendon stood straight and worked on developing the powerful body he’d been given for whatever magical purpose he had yet to understand. That purpose became clear when the ogre moved into the neighborhood and attacked two of his brothers who were making a delivery to Greenhill Castle. Though they tried to defend themselves, the ogre was too strong and, unlike leprechauns, spent his life perfecting the art of violence. He’d stolen their sacks of shoes and sent them home bruised, bleeding, and mighty pissed off. Brendon had made the next delivery and though the ogre gave him two black eyes, he’d fought him off and reached his destination. Brendon might not be able to carry on his family line, but he’d made his kinfolk proud by becoming their protector and the only deliveryman to make regular journeys to Greenhill Castle. He walked along, lost in thoughts of past deeds, a new muscle-building workout he intended to try, and of course dinner. Knowing he was long past the ogre’s territory, he indulged in thoughts of freshly baked bread and clover stew. Then a helmeted warrior in gleaming mail dropped out of the sky, slammed into his chest, and nearly knocked him onto the grass. The warrior’s legs tightened around his waist and gloved hands tore at his hair. “Drop those sacks, you thieving ogre, and fight me. Hel awaits you in her realm once you die at the end of my sword!” The warrior’s distinctly feminine voice shocked Brendon almost as much as her initial attack. “Get off me, you crazy wench!”

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“How dare you insult me,” she bellowed, batting her head against his, using the steel helmet to almost knock him unconscious. Brendon dropped the sacks, grasped her around the middle and threw her off him. No sooner had she struck the ground than she kicked his legs out from under him. He fell hard on his back and she straddled him, her fists pummeling his face before he managed to reverse their position. A moment later she lay on her back beneath him. Her helmet had flown off in their struggle, revealing a wealth of golden blond hair and a beautiful face with flashing blue eyes, a sturdy jaw line, and lips that would have been lovely had they not been drawn back in a ferocious snarl. “Get off me, you ogre!” “First of all I’m not an ogre. Second, even if I was, what gives you the right to attack me unprovoked?” She stopped struggling and lay panting beneath him, her brow furrowed. “Not an ogre? One of the other guests at Greenhill had gone out for a stroll earlier today and was attacked by a giant green ogre. In case you hadn’t noticed, you fit the general description.” “In case you hadn’t noticed, I am not green. It’s merely my clothes that are green,” he snapped. “Well, you don’t seem dangerous.” “And I hate to think of what dangerous by your standards might be. I think you might have broken my nose.” He stood, touching a hand to his face to wipe away blood. “Damn. It’s my best feature.” The woman looked disgusted as she reached for her helmet then rose to her feet. “It’s merely a bump and won’t ruin your good looks.” She’d just shocked him again. None of the women he knew -- even his mother -had ever called him good looking. But obviously she was not a local fairy. In fact, he’d never seen one quite so tall and fierce. “You’re not from around here, are you?” he began, walking to the brook and cleaning the blood off his face.

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“You must be an oracle,” she said sarcastically. “Because I don’t know what could have given you that impression.” Whatever sort of fairy she was, she wasn’t friendly or even polite. His impression changed a bit when she reached for one of his fallen sacks and brought it to him while he retrieved the other. “So if you’re not an ogre, what are you, oh man in the pea green suit?” she asked. “A leprechaun.” The woman burst into laughter and clapped him on the shoulder. “Whatever you are, you have a sense of humor. A leprechaun. Ach! Come now. What are you really?” Brendon’s teeth clenched. He turned from her and continued toward the castle that loomed in the distance, an enormous old building alone in the lush green countryside. She fell into step beside him. “On your way to the castle?” Glancing at her from the corner of his eye, he said in his most sarcastic voice, “I don’t know what could have given you that impression.” “I’d say you’re a troll, but your face is too fair. Maybe you’re a --” “I told you I’m a leprechaun! I’m --” “Brendon!” She pointed at him, wonder in her eyes. “Oh yes, I read about you in the magical record book during the trip over.” He wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or embarrassed. “Yes. That’s me. Now if you’d be kind enough to tell me who you are?” “Helga’s the name. Battle’s my game.” She grinned. “I’m a Valkyrie. Odin gave my unit some leave time. The rest of the girls went farther north to hunt with the Yeti, but I said what the hell? It’s been something like a thousand years since I’ve been to Ireland. It’s nice having some time off from training. Things have been slow in Valhalla since around 1066, but Odin likes to keep us Valkyries in shape.” Brendon’s gaze swept her. Perhaps she wasn’t so bad after all. A little rough around the edges, but after knowing so many phony fairies, it was refreshing to find an unpretentious female. Besides, she was awfully pretty -- and big. Actually, he’d never

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seen such a buxom beauty. The sudden image of Helga wrapped naked in his arms sent an erotic thrill through him that made his cock jump to life. He prayed his overcoat was long enough to disguise the growing symbol of his lust. The fairy who had commented about the size of his certain parts hadn’t been far from the truth. The sight of his full erection would make most of the local fairies faint, but this Valkyrie looked like she could take him on. “Happy to meet you, Helga. I hope you have a fine holiday.” “Well, it’s kind of hard not to, being here around St. Patrick’s Day and all.” “If you’d like someone to escort you to a magical pub or two, I’m familiar with some of the best,” he ventured, his heart pounding wildly. He hadn’t asked a woman for a date since -- well, since that winged snob had turned him down. “Hey, I’m there.” She winked. “Not that any Valkyrie needs an escort, but I would love some company, if you get my meaning.” The pink tip of her tongue moistened her full lips and a sultry look smoldered in her blue eyes. Brendon hoped his cock wouldn’t tear right through his trousers. The woman was actually flirting with him. It was all he could do to keep from jerking his fist, raising his knee and shouting, “Yeess!” Instead he remained calm, treating her with the respect his mother, a fairy queen, had taught him to bestow upon all women. “Shall I come for you tonight?” “I’ll be waiting. You know, Brend, you’re okay.” She smiled and punched him amiably in the shoulder. “Don’t mind if I call you Brend, do you?” “By all means.” This woman perplexed him. One minute she was giving the looks of a practiced harlot, the next she was treating him like one of the boys. “Oh, yes, I can see the leprechaun in you now. You’re all so nice and polite. Make everybody feel welcome and I appreciate that after nearly busting your chops back there.” “Think nothing of it.” “No, really. I feel pretty bad about that. Tonight, if everything goes well, maybe you can let me make it up to you.”

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“Huh?” He hoped he didn’t sound as dumb as he felt at the moment. Did she mean what he thought she meant? All he could think about was tearing off their clothes, plunging his cock into her warm body, and fucking her into the next century. “Hmm?” She stepped in front of him and placed her hands on his shoulders. They stopped walking and stared into each other’s eyes. He bent slightly, his lips so close to hers that he felt her warmth and breath. Her scent -- that of leather and wildflowers -- intoxicated him like the strongest fairy whiskey. He was about to kiss her when the sound of hoof beats made them step apart. Brendon’s aunt, a slender silver-haired fairy, perched on the back of her old white pony. “Ah, Brendon, there you are with the order. I was getting worried. Goodness, what happened to your nose? Did the ogre attack again?” “No. I had a little accident.” Brendon exchanged glances with Helga who had the decency to look a bit sheepish. “Well, you’d best bring the shoes to the shop then stop by the kitchen and let Siobhan work a healing spell on you. That nose of yours is big enough without the swelling on top of it.” Raising his eyes to heaven, Brendon continued toward the castle. The women joined him, engaging in pleasant conversation. Brendon found he couldn’t keep his gaze from Helga. The woman was quite beautiful. And that body… better not to dwell on it or else he really might burst through his trousers. As they neared the castle, he noticed several guests mingling under a colorful tent outside. A group of powerfully built men stood laughing heartily together. Two were blond-haired, the third dark. One of the blonds was tall even by Brendon’s standards, rather like a small giant. His deep voice carried across the field. The other blond spoke quietly, his expression serene. Their dark-haired companion, though engaging in conversation, had his gaze fixed on Brendon and the women, an odd little smile on his lips.

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“Come and meet my friends from home,” Helga said, grasping Brendon’s wrist and tugging him toward the three men. When they approached, the taller blond stared at him with a look of challenge, the other men with smiles. “Brendon, these are my traveling companions, Thor, Balder, and Loki. Gentlemen, this is Brendon, the world’s largest leprechaun.” Brendon tried not to flinch. How stupid her introduction made him sound. She couldn’t have said, this is Brendon, son of the greatest shoemaker in the magical universe. Or this is Brendon, the handsome Celt who has volunteered to give me a tour of Ireland tonight. “Good to meet you, Brendon.” Balder, the blond with the kindly face extended his hand. Brendon dropped one of his sacks of shoes to shake first Balder’s hand, then Loki’s. Thor stepped forward, his massive chest swelling as he drew a deep breath. “You’re a leprechaun, eh?” Thor said in his resonant voice. “Look more like the runt of a Frost Giant’s litter, but it’s good to see some size in one of your kind.” “Not that we have anything against smaller magical folk,” Balder interrupted, shoving his elbow into Thor’s ribs. “I only meant it might be nice to include some of the locals in the upcoming Challenge,” Thor said. “This man looks like he would do well -- at least for bait.” Brendon cocked an eyebrow. “Challenge?” “Yes,” Balder continued, “Thor has arranged for a little competition to take place right here on Greenhill grounds. Warriors will be paired off and fight for prizes. We already have several guests signed up. Two Bigfoot from America, the Cyclops from Greece -- a team of Romanian werewolves have volunteered to take him on.” “How about signing up?” Thor asked. “Sounds exciting,” Brendon said, “however, leprechauns are a peace loving people. My family might not think much of fighting for entertainment. Using violence for defense is one thing, but --”

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“I knew it.” Thor curled his lip. “Another frolicking coward. I should have gone north again for this vacation and hunted with the Yeti.” Brendon’s temper rose at the arrogant man’s utter rudeness. “There are no cowards among the fairy folk of Ireland, especially the leprechauns.” “Are you challenging me?” Thor’s eyes gleamed and his massive hands curled into fists. “Stop this now,” Balder ordered, glaring at Thor. “We are guests here and I’m sick and tired of you causing trouble. Yesterday it was a fight with a Selkie, today it’s with the giant leprechaun.” “Ach!” Thor waved his hand, but walked away. Turning back to Brendon, Balder said, “He’s just overly enthusiastic when it comes to training for battle. Once you get to know him, he’s really a nice guy.” Brendon stooped to pick up his bag and turned to Helga. He thought he saw a look of disappointment on her face, but it vanished quickly, replaced by a smile. “I’ll come for you at dusk,” Brendon said. “Great. See you then. Speaking of training, I need to get some in.” She followed in the direction Thor had left in, Balder falling into step beside her. Only Loki remained, still wearing his rather unsettling smirk. When Brendon walked toward the castle, he followed. “Something I can do for you?” Brendon asked. “You’re seeing Helga tonight?” “Yes.” “I noticed how the two of you were looking at each other on your way to the tent. Really like her, don’t you?” “We’ve only just met, but she seems like a fine lady.” “And she’s a looker, right?” Loki winked one of his narrow gray eyes. “She’s very beautiful.” “Balder, Thor, and I have known her all our lives. We grew up together in Asgard. We think of her as a sister, and that means we want to see her happy. It’s been

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hard for her finding a man back home. Most are like Thor, always thinking of war and issuing challenges.” Brendon began to take an interest in what Loki was saying. “She doesn’t like that?” “Not at all. I mean, she’s a Valkyrie. Her entire life is built around violence. In private, Helga wants a polite, gentle man. A tender lover.” “How do you know this?” “I told you she’s like a sister to me. She’s confided in me many times. Did you see the expression on her face when you were arguing with Thor over the Challenge?” “Well… yes,” Brendon admitted. “It’s because you started arguing with him. She probably thinks you’re the same kind of hot-tempered thug he is. If you really meant the leprechauns are a peaceful people, play that up to get in good with her.” Brendon paused outside the gift shop, his gaze meeting Loki’s. “Are you sure?” “Trust me. I wouldn’t lie,” Loki said, his smile fading to a look of utmost seriousness. “I care far too much about Helga. I want to see her happy, and you seem like a nice guy. I warn you, however, if you hurt her, you’ll have to answer to me.” Brendon nodded. “Thanks for the advice.” “You’re very welcome,” Loki said, then disappeared down the corridor.

Chapter Two Helga sat in the lobby at Greenhill Castle inn, flipping through a magazine without really paying attention to its contents. Her thoughts were spinning over her date with Brendon. When it came to cute, on a scale of one to ten, he was an eleven. With his thick black hair and a body perfect enough to make even Valkyrie legs weak, he turned her on more than any man she’d ever seen. In spite of his polite, reserved manner, lust gleamed in his eyes. The man had a wild side, Helga was sure of it, and she was more than ready for some unbridled passion with the most famous leprechaun in the world of magic. The door opened and Brendon stepped inside. Helga placed the magazine on the coffee table and stared at him, her heart pounding with desire. Damn, he was handsome. His long, lean body was clad in black trousers and a dark green turtleneck that accentuated the green of his eyes. He carried a bouquet in his hand, his jacket slung over his opposite arm. “Hi.” He smiled, his even white teeth gleaming against his tanned skin. Helga stood and met him halfway across the lobby. He kissed her cheek and offered her the bouquet. “These are for you.” She glanced at it. “Clovers.” “Four leaf.” “Yes. Every one of them.” She grinned. “Shall we go?” “You bet. I’ve been looking forward to this all day.” “Me too.” They left the castle and walked side-by-side toward the woods.

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Brendon glanced at Helga, scarcely believing his good luck. After making his delivery that afternoon, he’d returned to his family’s shoe factory hardly able to concentrate on work. He’d been so distracted that his brothers immediately realized something was on his mind and questioned him until he told them about Helga. Of course they insisted he introduce them tonight at Cobweb Creek Pub, the most popular hangout in the area for magical folk. “It’s really pretty around here,” Helga commented as they strolled down the moonlit path running through the woods. “So are you,” he said. She glanced at him. “Do you get far with lines like that?” “When you’re the world’s biggest leprechaun, you don’t get too far with any lines.” “Huh?” “The fairies around here don’t exactly go for tall men. Not only would it be physically awkward, but I’m just not aesthetically pleasing.” “Then it’s a good thing you ran into me. The bigger the better is my motto.” He chuckled. “I could kiss you for that.” “Go for it,” she said in a husky voice that made him stop in his tracks, his heart pounding with almost overwhelming desire. She stared at him with such intensity in her gorgeous blue eyes that he couldn’t resist doing exactly what she asked. He gently cupped the back of her neck and drew her closer as he bent, covering her mouth with a kiss.

Helga locked her arms around his neck and traced the shape of his lips with her tongue. His tongue met it, stroking with almost frustrating gentleness. His taste and scent turned her on so much. The sensation of his rock-hard body against hers made her want to tear off his clothes and devour him. Even better, she wanted him to devour her. “Want to make a detour before the pub?” she purred.

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His hands resting on her waist, he met her gaze, his green eyes smoldering in a way that made her pulse leap. Gods, he was going to be an animal in bed, she just knew it and could scarcely wait. “You mean right here?” he asked. Shrugging, she smiled. “I like the outdoors.” “If you would follow me.” He offered her his hand and she took it, allowing him to guide her off the path to a clearing with the remains of a long-dead fire in the center of it. “Sometimes I camp here when I want to be alone,” he said, gathering wood. Helga joined him and moments later a crackling fire warmed them against the brisk night. Brendon spread his jacket on the ground. She slipped her arms around him from behind, unfastened his belt, and unzipped his fly. Excitement darted through her when she found he wore no underpants. Her fist curled around his cock and she grinned as his erection grew to a pleasing length and thickness. “You certainly are endowed,” she said. “I guess it’s another fringe benefit of being the world’s biggest leprechaun.” “Another?” he breathed. “I’ve found there are not too many benefits to it.” “Like I said this afternoon. You’ve been with the wrong kind of woman.” He grasped her wrist and turned, tugging her gently against his chest. His hand cupped her chin and she tilted her face toward his. “I’m quickly learning what the right kind is.” “Good. Take me, Brendon,” she said, stepping away and pulling off her sleeveless top. Her nipples hardened both from the cool night air and from the anticipation of making love with him. Brendon devoured her with his gaze as she continued undressing. He also kicked off his boots and trousers, then pulled off his turtleneck. By all the gods, his body was absolutely perfect -- tall, lean, and the muscles perfectly developed. Hair dusted his chest and tapered down the middle of his

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washboard abs before flaring out in a black nest from which jutted his big, beautiful cock. “Oh yes,” she whispered, stepping closer and slipping her arms around him, his erection trapped between them. “Helga,” he said softly, his fingertips roaming over her back and buttocks with feathery touches. It was as if he feared touching her too hard, but damn she wanted him to be rough. She longed to be claimed by his powerful body, to be crushed in his embrace and feel his teeth gently nipping her flesh. “Brendon.” “Lovely girl,” he purred, guiding her to the forest floor where she lay on her back upon his jacket. The fire warmed them against the night’s chill, but Helga guessed things would get even hotter once he made love to her. He knelt beside her and stroked her from breast to thigh, his touch so tender it almost lulled her to sleep. To sleep! Damn, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. They should be hot and bothered, wildly thrashing, and fucking each other into oblivion. “Your skin is so soft and beautiful,” he whispered, kissing his way down the length of her body. The sensation of his lips against her flesh was quite pleasant, and his callused palms felt good as they cupped her breasts. He kneaded the warm mounds and brushed his thumbs over the nipples. Then he took one of the stiff peaks between his lips and lapped it. Sighing, Helga wove her fingers through his hair and arched, trying to force her breast more deeply into his mouth. He left her breast and kissed his way down her stomach. He lifted her legs over his shoulders and settled himself so his mouth covered her clit. Helga drew a sharp breath and wriggled with pleasure as he began licking her ultra sensitive flesh. Using the tip of his tongue, he teased first one side of her clit, then the other before licking with rhythmic upward strokes that soon had her writhing with passion.

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Though he was far too gentle for her taste, he certainly had down the art of cunnilingus. For a man who claimed not to have much practice, he sure must have paid attention when other guys talked about their exploits. Within moments, Helga was panting and throbbing in orgasm, yet in spite of the pleasure, she longed for more. Gazing at her, Brendon covered her body with his. The raw passion gleaming in his eyes sent a spark of hope through her that now he would claim her as she wanted to be claimed. Bracing his forearms on either side of her head, he began easing his stiff cock into her passion-drenched pussy. “I’m not hurting you, am I, love?” he asked. “No. Gods no,” she said. “You can go harder.” He shook his head and continued his slow movements until he was buried to the hilt. Closing his eyes, he pressed his forehead against hers. She felt the tension in his powerful body and wondered why he was holding back. “It’s all right,” she said, thrusting her hips upward and locking her legs around his waist. “Take me, Brendon.” Covering her mouth in a deep yet tender kiss, he began thrusting in a steady rhythm. By the gods, if he continued at this pace, it could take all night. As pleasant as his lovemaking was, they were obviously complete opposites in their wants and needs. She clung to him, her hips lifting in an attempt to spur him on.

Brendon closed his eyes tightly, his teeth gritting against the urge to pound into Helga with scarcely controlled passion. He would have given all the gold at the end of the rainbow to claim her with deep rough strokes, to hear her raw cries of animal desire, yet he couldn’t. Loki had said she wanted tenderness and damn it, he was going to give it to her. Not only did he like and respect this Valkyrie, but he wanted to please her. She was the first woman who had ever welcomed him into her arms and he wasn’t about to frighten her off by succumbing to the white-hot fantasies that had plagued him

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all his life. How many nights had he awakened alone in his bed, drenched in sweat with an erection the size of an ogre’s shoe horn after having dreams of wild sex? If only Helga could share those fantasies life would be absolutely perfect. The thought of tying her to a bed and claiming her body while she urged him on in a voice filled with passion soon had him trembling on the verge of orgasm. He forced himself to thrust slower and deeper, struggling to control his excited breathing. His heart pounded, threatening to burst through his chest. “Don’t hold back,” Helga whispered, weaving her fingers through his hair, her strong Valkyrie legs wrapped tightly around his waist. “I want to please you,” he said against her lips. In response, she tightened her vaginal muscles around him and thrust against him until he could no longer control himself. He plunged harder and faster, though in the back of his mind he remembered to maintain a degree of gentleness. His sudden change of pace seemed to excite her and she uttered a soft moan of desire, clinging even harder. Her wet sheath clamped around his almost painful erection. Gritting his teeth and struggling to control his breathing, he continued thrusting until she cried out in pleasure. With five more fast, hard thrusts, he exploded, his body straining against hers. Brendon rolled onto his side so as not to crush her and pulled her into his arms, holding her for several moments while they watched the fire dance. “Thank you, Helga,” he whispered, kissing her shoulder and stroking her arm with his fingertips. She turned to him with a gentle smile. “That was nice, Brendon.” “Yes,” he kissed the tip of her nose, “it was.” She tugged away from his embrace and reached for her clothes. “Want to go to the pub now?” He stood and dressed. After killing the fire, he offered her his arm and they made their way back to the well-trodden path.

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***

Helga followed Brendon quietly toward Cobweb Creek Pub, thoroughly confused about her feelings for him. At first she’d been certain he was the sort of guy she could enjoy being with, but the longer she spent with him the less certain she became. He was probably the sweetest man she’d ever met. So kind, considerate, and gentle, but damn she wanted to light a fire under his fanny. She’d had fantasies about making wild, passionate love with him. She’d pictured herself trapped beneath his powerful body, him pounding into her while she clung to him. Maybe they could even do some role playing. For instance she could pretend she was a serving wench in the Hall of Odin and he could pretend he was one of the god’s immortal warriors. She could accidentally spill a tankard of ale in his lap and he could tear off her clothes and spank her as punishment. Even now the thought of Brendon’s large, warm hand heating her backside made her wet with desire. Then she remembered how sex had really been with him and she knew a man as tame as Brendon would probably never give her the kind of fun she really wanted. “Here we are, love,” Brendon said cheerfully and held open the pub door for her to pass. Helga stepped into the crowded room where magical folk mingled, drinking, laughing, and celebrating the holiday. “At first the magical folk around here rebelled against St. Patrick’s Day,” Brendon explained. “Then during the recent revival of people’s interest in leprechauns and fairies and such, we started to see the fun in the holiday.” Taking her hand, Brendon introduced her to several of his friends. Finally they approached a table of leprechauns, all tiny and handsome. Two had lovely gossamerwinged fairies seated on their laps. “Helga, these are my brothers Brady, Evan, and Keefe. And their wives Mab and Breck.”

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Once they’d exchanged greetings, Brady poked Brendon in the ribs with an empty beer mug. “Too bad you missed it. The ogre just left. Nearly drank up everything in the place. If you’d have been around you’d have shown him who’s boss.” Brendon offered a weak smile. “You know I don’t fight for the fun of it, Brady.” “Come on,” Keefe chuckled. “You bragged for a week after you sent him running home with his hairless tail between his legs --” Brendon clamped a hand over Keefe’s mouth and said, “Come now, brother, I don’t brag about such things. I merely did what I had to do to protect --” “I’d like to hear about Brendon and the ogre.” Helga smiled, sliding into the booth beside Keefe and Breck. “It’s a boring story,” Brendon interrupted. “Let’s get something to drink.” “After I hear about the --” “Look who it is. The giant coward in the vomit-green jacket.” Thor’s deep voice carried across the pub. A hush fell over the crowd as the war god strode up to Brendon so they stood chest-to-chest. “If you don’t like my jacket, don’t look at it,” Brendon said with a forced smile. “I won’t look at it once you’re out of my sight,” Thor replied. “Excuse me, sir,” Evan said, his green eyes flashing. “If you have a problem, I suggest you take it outside. We don’t want any trouble here.” “There will be no trouble, little man, if your overgrown friend gets out of here and stops insulting me with his presence.” The leprechauns and their wives stared at Brendon, as if waiting for him to reply. Helga shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Obviously Brendon knew better than to risk a fight with Thor, yet she couldn’t help feeling embarrassed for him. “Thor, stop it,” Helga said. “Can’t you behave yourself at least for tonight?” Thor glanced at Helga and shook his head. “I can’t believe you’re wasting your time with this weasel.” “Stop it.”

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“Who are you calling a weasel?” Brady stood atop the table and swung his empty mug at Thor’s head. Brendon caught the mug before it struck and stepped between his brother and Thor. “This is supposed to be a celebration.” “Then we’ll celebrate,” Thor said, an evil grin on his face before he pulled back his fist and struck Brendon hard enough to knock him through the table. The giant leprechaun sprawled on his back amidst broken wood and spilled mugs. He sprang to his feet, his teeth and fists clenched. Helga’s heart pounded. She thought for sure Brendon would finally thrust aside his seemingly unshakable belief in non-violence and fight back. She braced herself, ready to help him against the war god, if necessary. In spite of his size, there was no way Brendon could match Thor’s skill, but at least he had the gumption to try. Or so she’d thought. Brendon relaxed visibly and stepped out of the rubble, past Thor. He held out his hand to Helga. “Shall we go?” She glanced around at the crowd that was still focused on Brendon and Thor. Goodness, didn’t anything get this man riled? “You mean you’re going to let this Viking pig get away with insulting you?” Evan snapped at Brendon. “What good will fighting do?” Brendon said. “It might make me feel better.” Keefe made a run for Thor, but Brendon caught him by the back of his jacket. Thor laughed heartily. “It seems all the courage went to the normal-sized leprechauns and none to the giant.” “Will you shut up?” Helga snapped at Thor. Grasping Brendon’s hand, she tugged him out of the pub before Thor decided to use him for target practice again. “I’m sorry you had to witness that,” Brendon said once they were outside.

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“It’s all right.” Helga used tissues to blot blood from his split lip. “Thor always was a bully.” Brendon grasped her hand before she could continue cleaning his face. Their gazes met and Helga felt a strange tugging at her heart. He was such a sweet guy. If only he had more spirit. She couldn’t believe this was the same man who had supposedly fought off an angry ogre. “You know, Brendon, I’m a little tired. I think we should call it a night.” “I’ll walk you back to the castle.” He offered her his arm. Forcing a smile, Helga slipped her arm through his as they walked to Greenhill. She shivered a bit since her sleeveless shirt offered little protection from the crisp night. Brendon slipped off his jacket and offered it to her. Damn, he was such a nice guy. Too bad he was a wimp. At the inn, they were halfway up the stairs when Helga realized he seemed to have plans of accompanying her to her room. She paused and turned to him. “Goodnight, Brendon. It was a nice evening.” He smiled slightly, took her face in his hands, and brushed her mouth with a gentle kiss. “Can we see each other again?” he asked. Damn. This was the moment she’d been dreading. Though his overemphasis on self-control had disappointed Helga, she genuinely liked Brendon and hated the thought of hurting him. She knew by the expression in his eyes he was hoping she’d consent to another date, but she simply couldn’t. The last thing she wanted to do was lead him on, and she had no intention of spending eternity trapped to any man -- especially one who was her exact opposite. Unfortunately, Helga was on unfamiliar ground. Tact had never been her strong point and in the Hall of Odin where she had hung out all her life, few men needed to be let down gently. “Brendon, you’re a real sweet guy,” she said and kissed his cheek. “I had a nice time tonight, but I don’t think it will work out between us. I do hope we can still be friends.”

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His smile faded a bit and his brow furrowed. It took him a moment to reply. “Of course.” A strange feeling washed over her as she turned from him and hurried up the stairs to her room. She really hated turning down such a nice guy. Maybe she should have given him another shot. The sex hadn’t been exactly what she’d hoped for, yet it had been pleasant. Still, she wanted a man who left her breathless, one who made her feel out of control and primitive. The leprechaun was too concerned with being the perfect gentleman to let loose and enjoy life. He was so damned refined that if she ever suggested the kind of rough play she really enjoyed, she’d probably shock the hell out of him. It was better they go their separate ways. Even so, it would be a long time before she forgot the sensation of his lips against hers. It wasn’t until she reached her room that Helga realized she still wore Brendon’s jacket. She slipped it off and held it to her face, inhaling his captivating scent. Sighing, she tossed it aside.

*** It was several moments after Helga left that Brendon finally turned and walked down the steps, dazed. He thought their first date had gone rather well. The sex had been great. Yes, he’d have preferred it a little wilder, but his main concern had been with pleasing Helga. Eventually, if she learned to trust him, he could toss out some of his sexual fantasies and see how she responded, but tonight he’d been attentive and gentle. He’d made a point to provide oral stimulation. Women loved that, didn’t they? It must have been him after all. She’d probably gone out with him for the novelty of dating the world’s biggest leprechaun but she hadn’t really been attracted to him. Like women had told him all his life, he was a colossal abomination. He’d even had delusions that maybe, just maybe, she was the woman meant to share his life. The thought of her pregnant with his children stirred long denied emotions deep inside him. Until tonight, he hadn’t realized just how lonely he was for a

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wife and family of his own. Even if Helga never went for the idea of being tied to the bed and fucked into oblivion, he could live with it for the sake of companionship. Absorbed in his thoughts, he didn’t see Balder until he collided with him on the steps. “Sorry,” Brendon said. “No problem,” Balder replied, his eyes narrowing. “What are you doing here? I thought you and Helga were going out tonight.” “We were out.” Brendon sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I blew it and it doesn’t make any sense. I did everything Loki said and it still didn’t work. Women and I just don’t --” “Loki? What do you mean you did everything Loki said?” “He told me the kind of man Helga likes. Gave me pointers on how to impress her.” Balder knitted his eyebrows. “What did he tell you?” “He said she liked gentleness, non-violence. A man who’s not afraid of his tender side.” Shaking his head, Balder rested a hand on Brendon’s shoulder. “You’re far too trusting, my friend. Back home Loki is known as an obsessive practical joker. Unfortunately most of his jokes aren’t funny. I’m afraid Loki has played you for a fool.” Anger stirred inside Brendon. One thing he could not abide was being maliciously mocked. He’d dealt with that sort of cruelty all his life and in spite of the thick skin he’d developed, still loathed anyone who took pleasure in making fun of others -- especially when it ruined a man’s chances of a relationship with a goddess. “Think about it, man,” Balder continued. “Helga is a Valkyrie, a battle maiden of our world. She thrives on excitement and blood and guts. She wants a man who is at least her equal, one who can --” Balder paused and glanced over his shoulder, then said in a low voice, “A man who can make her feel feminine. She’d probably attack me for saying it, but it’s true. Now, you don’t strike me as a man who enjoys fighting at the

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drop of a hat, but from what I’ve heard around here, you have a reputation of being able to take care of you and yours.” “That’s true enough.” Brendon shrugged. He had defeated the ogre once and would do so again, if necessary. An idea suddenly sparked inside him. Even if he failed in wooing Helga, he would at least have the satisfaction of giving two fools exactly what they deserved. “Balder, tell me, is it too late to sign up for the Challenge?” A smile tugged at Balder’s lips. “Just come with me.”

Chapter Three Helga stood among the large group of spectators in the field behind Greenhill Castle. Just about every guest at the inn had assembled for the Challenge along with many of the local folk. Selkies, leprechauns, pookas, fauns, dragons, and werewolves gathered, cheering on the competitors. Even a vampire or two had crawled out of their tombs to enjoy the stunning display of warriors. Earlier, Helga had fought a Banshee and made short work of the bitch. She’d really needed that fight, still upset over her torn emotions regarding that damn overgrown leprechaun. “Great fight, Helga,” Loki said, shoving aside a fairy so he could stand beside her. “Hmm,” she said half-heartedly. “What’s wrong with you? Still upset over the other night with Brendon? The guy’s a wimp. Not nearly good enough for you. You need a man from home. Someone who can really appreciate you.” As he spoke, Loki edged closer and slipped an arm around her. “Like you?” She gazed up at him with her most sultry expression. “Well, now that you mention it…” “Not a chance.” She firmly removed his arm from her shoulders. “Touch me again, Loki, and the Banshee won’t be the only one spitting teeth today.” “Okay, okay. No reason to get --” Loki’s voice faded and he stared across the field. Curious about what could have silenced the biggest mouth in Asgard, she followed his gaze and her heart nearly leapt through her chest. Brendon was striding toward the men lined up for the last round of fights -- a free for all where the competitors could challenge anyone. Thor was among them, and

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while all the warriors looked strong and able, most everyone’s favor rested on the Viking war god. At the moment, Helga didn’t see Thor or anyone else for that matter. The gorgeous leprechaun stole all her attention. Wearing only black boots and trousers, his magnificent torso bare, he approached Thor. At first the burly blond warrior threw back his head and laughed, but when Brendon took another step closer so they were chest to chest, he stopped laughing, a look of anger passing over his face. Though no one heard exactly what was said, it was obvious a challenge had been given and accepted. A centaur who had been acting as referee trotted to the center of the field and held up his hands to silence the shouting crowd. “The first Challenge in the free-for-all will be Thor, God of War, and Brendon, the world’s biggest lepre --” The centaur paused, taking a moment to contain his laughter. Brendon’s face flushed with a combination of anger and embarrassment. Finally the creature regained his self control and continued, “The world’s biggest leprechaun.” Brendon and Thor walked to opposite ends of the field. Brendon stood near enough for Helga to see sunlight glistening on his black chest hair. As much as she enjoyed watching men battle it out, she feared what Thor would do to Brendon. In spite of his powerful form, he was, after all, merely a leprechaun. Thor was an absolute animal in battle. “I don’t believe it,” Loki murmured. He turned to follow Helga. “Where are you going?” Ignoring him, she hurried toward Brendon and touched his arm. He turned to her. She was taken aback by the wildness in his beautiful green eyes. “Brendon, what are you doing?” “What does it look like?” “It looks like you’re going to get killed. Now stop being foolish and --” “Silence, woman! I’m busy.” “Brendon, I can’t let you do this. Thor --”

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“Is about to eat dirt. Now step aside before you get hurt.” He grasped her arm and shoved her back toward the crowd -- not enough to hurt her, but with enough force for her to get a taste of his tremendous strength. How dare he try to intimidate her? The urge to punch him in the nose almost overcame her, but she restrained her temper. If he was intent on fighting Thor, he was about to be put in his place by the war god himself, and even a Valkyrie couldn’t compete with that. Still, as the two men circled one another, she couldn’t help worrying that Thor might go too far and permanently injure the usually gentle leprechaun. Thor struck first, his meaty fists flying with shocking speed for such a thickly built warrior. Brendon dodged the first couple of blows, but the third landed square in his face. He staggered and Helga tensed, expecting him to fall. To the surprise of the cheering crowd, he stood his ground and attacked Thor. Kicks and punches flew. Grunts and groans from both the war god and the giant leprechaun echoed through the field. “You look a little nervous, Helga,” Balder said. She’d been so involved in the fight that she hadn’t heard him approach. Not even bothering to glance at him, she replied, “Why should I be nervous?” “Maybe you’re concerned someone might get hurt?” Goodness, was she that obvious? To throw off his suspicion, she said, “Thor can handle himself.” “You know I don’t mean Thor. Ouch! Thor just gave Brendon a good shot in the ribs. Now that had to hurt.” “Be quiet. I need to watch the fight,” Helga snapped, bobbing and weaving along with Brendon, her fists clenched. She was shocked the leprechaun had lasted this long, but at the moment he didn’t seem at all like the passive man she’d dated the other night. His green eyes gleamed with bloodlust and the harder Thor hit, the more determined he seemed to best the war god at his own game.

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Thor jabbed. Brendon slipped the blow and with Sphinx-like swiftness struck Thor in the jaw with force enough to send the big blond sprawling onto his back. His eyes unfocused, Thor lifted his head for a full two seconds before collapsing with a grunt. The crowd went mad. While the Viking visitors -- except for Balder and Helga -grumbled and booed, the other magical folk cheered. A small gathering of leprechauns made the biggest fuss of all, laughing and shaking their fists above their heads. “I thought they were supposed to be peace loving?” Loki muttered, glaring in the leprechauns’ direction. Brendon allowed the centaur to raise his arm in victory. He turned and glanced across the field, his gaze locking on Helga’s. The intense look in his eyes and the sight of his perfect body gleaming with sweat filled her with desire. Her stomach tightened and her pulse leapt. Damn, the man was too sexy for words. Not only was he gorgeous, but he had just defeated the Viking war god. Incredible. Brendon strode toward her and a twinge of excitement coursed through her. He looked angry, powerful, yet also hungry for something she was well prepared to give. As Brendon neared, Loki tried to slink away, but the leprechaun caught him by the arm. “Where are you going, you sniveling little liar?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Loki said, though fear glistened in his eyes. Obviously he didn’t want to tangle with the man who had knocked out Thor. “I was only trying to help. Give you some good advice.” “By telling me this woman likes weasels?” Helga glanced from Brendon to Loki and back again. “What?” “It seems Brendon took advice from Loki on how to impress you,” Balder said, a slight smile on his lips. “He said how much you enjoy passive men.” “Oh, I see.” Helga folded her arms across her chest, not sure who she was angrier at -- Loki or Brendon. “So you were trying to manipulate me even before our first date?”

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Brendon’s eyes widened and he dropped his hold on Loki. “I wasn’t trying to manipulate you. I was --” “Save it.” Helga lifted her hand, palm out. “Not only do I want nothing to do with any man stupid enough to listen to Loki, but you didn’t even have the courage to allow me to decide for myself whether or not I liked you -- the real you.” “You’re upset because I tried to please you?” Brendon snapped. “The more I look at you, Valkyrie, the less I like. I just tangled with that troll of a war god to look good in front of you and all you do is stand here and insult me.” Helga stared at him, feeling light-headed. The very idea that Brendon had gone through so much to turn her head was enough to fill her with something she despised -fear. Many men had tried to woo her, kiss her, bed her, but none had gone to such lengths as this leprechaun. Brendon’s eyes fixed on hers and an almost evil smile tugged at his lips. “You were impressed, weren’t you?” “I --” “Weren’t you?” he said louder, stepping closer and jerking her into his arms. “We need to talk.” “Get your hands off me before you regret it.” “Is that what you really want? Speak up, Helga, because I’ve had it with these games.” “You’re the one who started --” “I don’t care who started it. I want it to end and I want to know if you’ll see me again.” Helga’s heart pounded. Pressed close to the length of his powerful frame, his body heat seeping into her, she could scarcely think, let alone talk. Yet she knew by the expression on his face he wanted an answer immediately. She slowly became aware of the small crowd that had formed around them, staring at the proud Valkyrie locked in the giant leprechaun’s embrace. “Do you think we could go somewhere private?” she asked quietly.

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The slightest smile tugged at his lips. “That can be arranged.”

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Chapter Four Without hesitation, Brendon swept Helga into his arms and carried her toward Greenhill Castle. Helga clung to his neck, scarcely controlling her giddiness. Shit, this was a man! If only she could convince him to give her some of this rough play in the bedroom, she might just surrender to Brendon forever. Inside the castle, he asked which room she was staying in and proceeded to carry her there. Helga was by no means a small woman, but he seemed completely unhindered by her weight as he carried her up two flights of steps and down a winding corridor until he reached her room. He placed her on her feet just long enough for her to unlock the door, then picked her up again and carried her to the bed where he fairly tossed her atop it. “Like I said, Helga, no more games. I want to fuck you.” A thrill raced through her, turning her nipples to hard peaks of desire and making her clit ache. “If you prefer I make love to you instead, let me know now, or else you’ll get a wild fuck that will leave you breathless, woman.” “Wild fuck,” she breathed, unable to control her excitement. “Oh, gods, yes. It’s about time, leprechaun.” “I’ll only say this once.” He grasped her ankles and dragged her down the bed until she lay flat on her back. He straddled her, his weight balanced on his knees, and slipped off his leather belt. “Today you’re mine. You will obey the commands of my lips, my tongue, my hands. If you surrender, I will weave a lustful spell you will never forget. Do you give yourself to me?” “Yes.”

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He nodded, his gaze never leaving hers as he grasped her wrists and used the belt to tie them to the headboard. He glanced around the room, finally focusing upon Helga’s best dagger resting on the dresser. He stood and retrieved it. After tugging the blade from its sheath, he examined the tip and approached her again. “What are you going to do with that?” she asked, her pulse racing. Gods, was he a madman? After all, she didn’t know him very well. Just because he turned her on didn’t mean he was safe. She’d begun to realize this was not remotely the same man who had courted her a few short days ago. “I’m going to undress you. Are you frightened?” “Valkyries are never afraid.” “Don’t lie to me, Helga. There have already been enough lies between us during our short time together.” He straddled her again. “You needn’t be afraid. I would never hurt you except maybe for a good spanking if the thought doesn’t upset you too much.” Upset her? Helga’s nipples turned pebble hard at the mental picture of it. “I like it rough, Helga,” he continued, using the tip of the blade to slice away her shirt without so much as grazing her skin. “But I want you to enjoy whatever we do together. I need you to tell me what you want and I need you to tell me if I’m going too far.” “I will,” she whispered, hypnotized by the intensity in his eyes as they fixed on her now exposed breasts. He moved down her body, slicing away her trousers and panties then tugging off her boots and socks. Finally she lay completely naked. He cut her shirt in strips and used the cloth to bind her ankles to the bedposts. Helga trembled with excitement as she glanced down at her body, tied to the bed. Her breasts rose and fell with each eager breath. Brendon sheathed the dagger and returned it to the dresser, then faced her and pulled off his boots, socks, and trousers. The sight of his powerfully muscled body, hairy in all the right places, with a big, veined cock offering her a carnal salute made her instantly wet.

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“Oh, Brendon, please,” she breathed. “Please what?” His chiseled lips slid into a slightly evil grin. “Please touch me.” He growled, an animal sound that sent a shiver down her spine. He pounced on her, supporting his full weight on his hands and knees. Bending his elbows, he lowered himself closer to her breasts and took a nipple between his lips. His tongue lashed it, making it even stiffer and so sensitive that his touch was almost painful. Then he sucked it deeply into his mouth. He alternated between sucking it and teasing it with the tip of his tongue. Helga moaned and thrashed as much as her bonds would allow. Finally, after several moments of the delicious torment, he moved to her other nipple. His teeth worried it and he lapped it with wet strokes of his tongue that soon had her quivering from head to toe, her clit throbbing with anticipation. “Brendon, oh, Brendon,” she murmured. This was exactly what she’d fantasized about since first laying eyes upon the gorgeous, powerfully built leprechaun. She’d wanted him to claim her, pleasure her, make her submit to his caresses. He left her nipple and laved beneath her breasts in sensitive places that made her writhe with ticklish desire. His tongue left a wet trail down her stomach and over her ribs until he reached her clit. For several moments he breathed on it, teasing her until she thrust her hips upward in an attempt to force him into caressing her clit as he had her nipples. Grinning wickedly, he knelt between her legs and gently pushed his thumb into her pussy. It came away slick and wet. He used it to circle her clit. Helga tensed, her arms and legs straining against her bonds. By the gods, the way he touched her felt wonderful! Her heart hammered against her ribs and her legs trembled with impending orgasm. If he kept up the delectable stroking much longer, she’d come. Then without warning, he withdrew his thumb and replaced it with his lips and tongue.

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“Oh!” Helga cried out, her breath coming in harsh pants. “Yes, yes, yes! Brendon, please. Oh, Brendon!” His tongue lapped with long, upward strokes that provided almost unendurable pleasure. He slid first one then two of his long, slender fingers into her quivering pussy and explored while he licked and sucked her clit. He sat up and covered her body with his, entering her with a swift thrust that left her breathless. Gasping and moaning, she mimicked his fast, steady rhythm with her hips. “Tell me how it feels, Helga,” he said close to her ear. “It feels so good, Brendon. So good. I don’t want you to stop. I want to come. I want to so much. Please, please don’t stop.” “Come for me, Helga. Come for me now,” he commanded, thrusting even faster. With a high-pitched cry of pure desire, she exploded, her body throbbing in seemingly endless waves of orgasm. When she finally floated back to earth, his body was still covering hers, his cock hard inside her. His face rested against her neck, his breathing harsh. Helga grinned and tightened her vaginal muscles around him. “Vixen,” he growled, thrusting with short, fast strokes until her passion rekindled. Helga felt herself climbing the peak again, but he pulled out, leaving her panting and aching with unfulfilled need. “Why did you stop?” she demanded. He knelt over her, his bulbous cock head, gleaming with her juices, hovering over her lips. The sight of it made her heart beat even faster. She knew what he wanted and more than anything she wanted to give it to him. If only her hands were free. No matter, her mouth could give him as much pleasure as his had provided her. She traced the shape of his cock head with her tongue. Using the very tip, she paid careful attention to the ridge along the underside. He seemed to like that. His breath caught and his body tensed. He edged a bit lower and she took as much of his

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erection as she could fit into her mouth. The crown brushed the back of her throat, but only for a moment before he pulled back slightly. Helga sucked him back in, using her teeth and tongue on him until he groaned, a sound of pleasure-pain. “You could kill me if I let you,” he said, his deep voice raw with passion. Helga purred, closing her eyes and fully enjoying the feel of his cock, the sensation of the velvet soft skin against her tongue and the pattern of veins beneath. The gorgeous staff swelled and pulsed. She licked the head and used the tip of her tongue to tease the little eye where she tasted the first droplets of his passion. Finally he pulled away and knelt between her legs, one hand clamped around the base of his cock. The powerful muscles of his chest twitched as he fought to control his desire. “Damn it, Helga,” he breathed, closing his eyes and arching his head back. Veins and tendons stood out in his neck. She longed to use her hands on him. “Untie me, Brendon,” she said. “Please.” He opened his eyes and gazed at her with a discerning expression. After a moment he released his cock and unfastened first her ankles, then her wrists. She reached for him, but he caught her arms and turned her so that she knelt with her back to him. Leaning over her, he began covering her back with kisses. His tongue trailed down her spine to the indentation of her buttocks. He grasped her bottom and kneaded the flesh. “You feel like warm satin,” he said. Her heart pounding and face flushed with passion, Helga glanced at him over her shoulder. “You could make it warmer.” His eyes gleamed with desire. “Is that what you want?” She nodded slightly. Though it had always been a fantasy, she’d never actually given a man permission to spank her.

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“Speak up, Helga,” he growled, grasping a handful of her hair and tugging, not enough to hurt her but just enough to send a thrill through her from head to toe. “Tell me what you want.” “What do you think?” she retorted. “I’m not a mind reader. Tell me. Do you want this?” He knelt on the bed and dragged her over his thighs so her bottom was completely exposed to his touch. She nodded. “Speak up, woman.” “Yes.” “And this?” He used his big, callused palm to stroke her backside. His long fingers dipped between her legs and swept over her inner thighs. “Yes.” “How about this.” His hand struck her bottom lightly, not even enough to sting. “Harder,” she said. His hand fell upon her backside again. “Harder.” This time it did sting a bit. He struck again with the same amount of pressure, then again. Helga squirmed, her flesh stinging more from the repetition than from severity. Her bottom warmed and little ripples of pleasure, almost pre-orgasmic in intensity, rolled through her. Finally he stopped and caressed her ultra-sensitized flesh. He lifted her off his legs so she lay stomach down on the bed. Helga closed her eyes and moaned softly when he began kissing her backside. The softness of his lips in contrast to the spanking felt marvelous. He licked and kissed his way up her back and brushed aside her hair so he could kiss her neck. “Helga,” he whispered in her ear.

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He guided her onto her back and Helga opened her legs to him. Once he’d filled her with his cock, she clung to him, squeezing him tightly with her arms and legs as he thrust hard and fast. Already on the verge of orgasm, she came quickly, throbbing around his erection. He thrust throughout her climax, pushing her onto another before she could completely recover from the first. “Brendon, oh!” she cried. “Helga, you fucking sexy vixen,” he grunted, his breath rasping in her ear, every muscle in his powerful body tense. She knew he was holding back, waiting for her to come again. Her hips lifted, joining his primitive rhythm until she shattered. This time, in the midst of her pleasure, she felt him come long and hard, her name a passionate cry on his lips. Helga released her hold on him and sank into the mattress. Brendon collapsed atop her, their heated bodies pressed so close together she felt their hearts beating in unison. “Oh Brendon,” she whispered. “That was --”

“Perfect,” he breathed. “Absolutely perfect.”

He rolled onto his back and pulled her against his side. Helga laid her head

against his chest and draped her leg over his. Closing her eyes, she rested with him in silence, a contented half smile on her lips.

*** Helga lifted her head from Brendon’s shoulder and studied his face.

“Brendon?” she asked.

He grunted softly and opened his eyes, meeting her gaze.

“We need to talk.”

“I agree,” he said.

“We need to be completely honest with each other about what we really want.”

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“If there’s one thing I’ve learned from this whole experience, it’s to never pretend to be something I’m not. From now on, I promise to be honest with you, Helga.” He brushed hair from her face then stroked her cheek. “Now go on and tell me what you want.” She grinned. “I know I want sex like we just had.” “Another thing we agree upon, then. But I must tell you the truth. I want more than just sex with you, Helga.” His words frightened yet excited her. She’d been certain she didn’t want to bind herself to a man. Having fun was one thing, but marriage -- especially for immortal beings -- was another. “I need time to decide, Brendon. We can’t just rush into this because we’re hot for each other.” He nodded. “A wise idea. I will wait until you’re ready. But in the meantime…” He placed his hand behind her head and kissed her deeply. Affectionate yet commanding strokes of his tongue made her moan with pleasure. Clinging to him, she surrendered completely to the handsome leprechaun.

Epilogue St. Patrick’s Day 5 Years Later Helga walked quickly down the pathway leading to the home she shared with Brendon and their two children. Today was their anniversary. Four years ago Helga had finally consented to become his wife. To be closer to Brendon, who had taken over the family shoe business, she’d left the Valkyries and joined the Banshee Brigade. Now she was part of the elite force that protected the bewitched forest leading to the Irish land of magic. With tonight’s shift over and the kids visiting Brendon’s aunt at Greenhill, the couple planned to spend the night celebrating. No sooner had she stepped through the door than Brendon grasped her from behind. Holding her close, he spoke in her ear. “Happy St. Patrick’s Day, love.” “Mmm,” she purred, wriggling with pleasure as he kissed her neck. “Happy anniversary.” “It will be.” He swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed where he removed her clothes and boots. Deft fingers bound her hands to the headboard. He covered every inch of her bared skin with kisses all the way to her toes. Helga sighed with pleasure and closed her eyes, surrendering completely to sensation. “I love you, Brendon,” she said. He covered her body with his and said against her lips, “I love you, too. Tonight you’ll see just how much.” Before she could reply, he covered her mouth in a kiss that was pure magic.

The End

Kate Hill Kate Hill’s fiction and poetry have appeared in publications both on and off the Internet. When she’s not writing, Kate enjoys reading, working out, and spending time with her family. Visit her online at http://www.kate-hill.com