[Siren Classic: Erotic Historical Fantasy Romance, shape-shifters, sex in shifted form, HEA]
Lachlann of Braemuir is having no luck finding a mate. His mother tells him of the legend that a Braemuir will go to the Land of Ice and Snow to find his bride. Lachlann decides to try his luck.
Sigourney Hillesland, banished because she won't accept just any mate, is found by Lachlann, who recognises her as his mate. They make love in human-form, but before he can claim her officially, he's challenged to go and find the brides' golden torc. He gets the torc and brings back the old dragon who was guarding it. He is Hamish Munroe and has lost his mate, Mairi, not knowing that if she were dead he'd die too.
After Lachlann and Sigourney's wedding in Alesund they go to Scotland to search for Hamish's mate. But when the dragon mating takes place, will it be all that Lachlann promised Sigourney it would be?
A Siren Erotic Romance
Outside the meeting hall, Sigourney waited with her mother, Gudrin. Sigourney, a tall, slender ice-maiden with a long, thick, white-blonde plait hanging down her back, was dressed for this formal meeting in the traditional dress. Her long black skirt was heavily embroidered in the old flower patterns. Her white blouse with voluminous, long sleeves showed under the tight-fitting waistcoat in the blue that befitted her station. It was also heavily embroidered down the front, over her ample breasts, and all along the back where it hugged her slender waist and emphasised her plump bottom. She wore a long cloak of bright blue wool to keep out the cold. Her mother was similarly dressed. This was a formal occasion, and as such they had to do justice to their family name.
“Sigourney, straighten your spine. Hold your head high. You outrank them all. You are of the line of Hillesland, one of the most ancient and respected lines in our land. Remember your family pride, whatever is said in there. Show no emotion. You will survive this. The gods have sent this trial to you because you are strong enough to bear it. I will be with you.”
The doors opened, and they were beckoned inside. Sigourney remembered other occasions in this hall. Most of them had been happy and celebratory in nature. The present one was neither. Only the women were present. The rush lights in the wall sconces made the atmosphere smoky. It was warm in the hall, with a large log fire blazing in the hearths placed at either end. The carved and painted dragons gazed down impassively on her from the ceiling. This was a solemn occasion and could well decide her future fate and happiness.
“Gudrin, we are here to ask, what is the problem with your daughter? She is past the age of mating and has chosen no man yet.”
“Perhaps she waits for the orange-and-gold one the legends tell of,” a toothless old crone cackled.
“Whatever she does, she is causing trouble. The young men take no mates because they live in the hope she will choose them. The older males sniff after her as she walks the streets. They are restless, and soon we shall have adultery.”
There was a collective gasp at that. Adultery was unheard of, and it was a grave charge to lay at anyone’s door. Sigourney shook her head but remained calm and said not a word.
“We have decided that she must choose one male to mate with today or be banished until she does.”
At that Sigourney looked slowly around at all the women gathered there. There wasn’t one who looked to have any sympathy. They had all chosen mates in the traditional way, when the male had called, and they had responded. No male had called to her in that way. Was she to have less than all these women? They had ever been envious of her position and beauty, and this was a way of getting even.
“No, I will not take just any male. I want what you all have, that communion of minds and bodies. Not some second-rate substitute.”
The woman, Helga, who had spoken before, and whose son had been always sniffing round Sigourney, looked sourly at her. It was as Sigourney suspected, a ploy to force her hand and get her to marry Helga’s son. A fine advance for that family to be so linked with hers. Now she knew whom her real enemy was and would be able to deal with it.
“I choose banishment until I find my one, true mate.” She turned and gathered the thick woollen cloak about her and, followed by her mother, swept out of the hall with regal bearing.
“That didn’t go the way you planned, Helga. There’s more fire under all that ice than any of us suspected,” the old crone said and cackled in amusement.
The next day in dragon-form, sitting atop the icy mountain, Sigourney pondered her fate. Not many mates to be found out here. How long would it be before she could return to her family? She wouldn’t give in to despair. She wanted a mate, but not just any mate. She’d seen the connection her parents had and desired that for herself. What must it be like to find the right man and know he lived for her alone as she did for him? Her mother had said the gods had sent this trial as a test. She would pass it and return in triumph.
The afternoon sun gilded the snowy peaks, and her keen eyes caught a movement. She peered into the sun and thought she saw wings. I must be mad. It’s all the talk of the legendary one from over the seas that is making me see things. She narrowed her eyes and peered into the sun again. No, I’m sure that was movement. She opened her eyes wide and saw a vision. She beheld a creature of power, strength, and great beauty. He was glorying in his flight, soaring over the mountains and heading straight for her. He was huge, and his wings were the biggest she’d ever seen. Strong and powerful, the mighty downbeat pushed him ever faster toward her. He was magnificent. She knew he was a male but not how she knew. Has he seen me? What is he? Why is he here? Is the legend true then?
She breathed in his scent, the scent of her mate. She lifted up her face to be kissed. His hot mouth engulfed hers. She gloried in the sensation his lips produced in her cunt as he nibbled at hers. His tongue slid in, and she sucked it in deeper. He growled low in his throat, and she felt the vibration. His mouth left hers. He threw back the covers and began to lick and nip a trail down over her neck to her breasts. She was hot. She panted. Her breath came in gasps as his tongue approached her nipples, but he teased her and abandoned one breast to attend to the other. Her nipples were hard pebbles. She ached for him to suckle her, but he just chuckled and made her wait.
“Impatient little darling. Wait for your pleasure, and it will be well worth it, you’ll see.”
“Please, Lachlann, I need…”
“I know what you need. I know, too, that if you wait your pleasure will be all the greater.”
He continued to tease her as she arched her back and writhed in his arms, trying to get his mouth where she needed it most. Eventually he took one aching tip into his mouth. He nipped it between his teeth, and his tongue flicked back and forth over it. She heard her own sobbing moans and read his pleasure in all the sounds he was wringing from her. She had forgotten discretion. Her hands were fisted in the sheet, and she cared not who heard her cries.
“Yes, my little one, your cries are my reward. I love to hear them. We are mates and will wed. It matters not who knows we make love tonight.”
He returned to the task of suckling and driving Sigourney wild with pleasure. When his mouth left her other breast, she whined in protest, but he paid no attention. He licked a trail from her breasts, over her stomach. Finding her navel, he dipped his tongue into it, and she giggled. He continued to lick lazy circles down over her belly as far as her thighs. She expected him to take her clit in his mouth, but he had other ideas as he nipped and licked his way down one inner thigh and up the other. She heard him inhale in satisfaction as he neared her pussy.
“Ah your perfume drives me wild with desire. I need to taste you, my love.”
Two long fingers entered her cunt and massaged over the spot that had given he so much pleasure the previous day. He withdrew as she cried out with the almost unbearable pleasure he was heaping upon her. He looked at her as he licked his fingers then sucked them into his mouth and groaned in satisfaction.
“Sweet, spicy, and tangy, the taste of my mate. My love, I can’t get enough of you.”
His head dipped down, and he opened her labia with his fingers clamping his mouth on her clit he flicked the hood up with his tongue and stroked back and forth over the tender bud. He must have felt her orgasm approaching, so he slowed, and it retreated. He speeded up again and brought her close but didn’t allow her to fly over the edge. How many times he repeated it, she couldn’t tell, but when she was desperate and begging for completion, he took pity on her, and nipping her clit with his teeth, he sent her flying. Light exploded behind her eyelids, and the scream that tore from her throat left her hoarse. She’d thought that the previous evening was ecstasy, but tonight far exceeded that. Was this to be the pattern? Would he give ever more pleasure? Would she be able to stand it?