“Why does Wulfgar not f**k me?” I asked Fergus that night. The giant warrior had gone to patrol the woods, leaving us until dawn. For fun, Fergus made a nest of pelts near the hearth, close enough for him to easily roll a log into the fire. We cuddled and kissed for a time, and now I rested on his firm chest, playing with the ruddy hairs and tracing his freckles.
“He is being careful. He has spent a long time learning to control his beast. He doesnae want to hurt ye.”
I frowned. “But how will we bond?”
To my surprise, Fergus leaned down and smacked my bare bottom, lightly, but hard enough to make a smacking sound. “Enough, lass,” he said with mock gruffness. “You’re too worried about the bond. Pester me about it again, and there’ll be consequences.”
I rolled my eyes.
The next thing I
