Page 46 of Madness of Her Mages

It took all my willpower not to moan aloud as he fucked me harder and faster, our bodies roughly grinding together in a desperate, carnal act of love, the water splashing around us while the fire in his veins turned my insides to molten lava.

He fucked me so deep, I feared I’d fall apart from the delicious mixture of pleasure and pain. I panted into his mouth, clawing at his back, his wings, and then I did fall, spiraling through the clouds as he took me over the edge of ecstasy, my tight sheath gripping and pulsing around him as he stilled deep inside me with a curse, my whole body convulsing with the power of the orgasms that shot through me.

As soon as my breathing returned to a near normal, I moved over him, wanting to tenderly make love this time.

Much to my chagrin, he slid out with a hiss. “We must prepare for supper, my love,” he said while pressing his lips to my forehead. “The queen doesn’t like when we’re late.”

When I let out a string of very unladylike curses that would make a sailor blush, he laughed aloud.

“We’ll finish tonight,” he said, stroking the side of my face with calloused knuckles. “Promise.”

I grasped his hand, kissing his fingertips. “I’m holding you to it.” I waggled my brows. “I’m holdingallof you to it.”

He heaved an overly dramatic sigh. “Poor princess has only three mates to pleasure her.”

I splashed him, which was a mistake, because he flexed his wings and then hit me with a wall of water.

“Hey, no fair!” I cried out.

Before I engaged in a battle I knew I couldn’t win, I was saved by Blaze coming through the partition. After loudly clearing his throat, he gave us both accusatory looks. “We’re expected at supper in a half hour.”

I threw Drae a stern look over my shoulder.I’m getting you back later.

He flashed a wicked grin.Looking forward to it.

Chapter Eleven

“Isaid I’m not wearing it.” I sat at the gilded vanity mirror in my lavish dressing room with velvet drapes, several standing mirrors, and plush settees adorned with embroidered throw pillows, and waved away the servants, frustrated that they continued to try to force me to wear that pale makeup and hideous silver wig. I refused to dress in ridiculous court fashion. They were trying to make me look like a Sidhe Fae doll. What was wrong with my warm complexion that they wanted me to look as pale as a ghost? Or my dark chestnut hair, the same color as my mother’s?

The servants frowned, casting each other nervous looks.

“Our queen will be angry if you’re not dressed appropriately,” the girl named Daminica said as she held the wig that was shaped like a beehive in front of her. She was the one the servants seemed to obey and couldn’t have been older than eighteen. Of course, I could have been mistaken. I was simply going by her high-pitched voice. There was no telling what she actually looked like under all that face paint. She was dressed in one of those ugly wigs, her face was covered in pale powder, and she wore a beautiful emerald gown with a full, hoop skirt that matched her striking green eyes. She had rosy dots on her cheeks and twin dots on her upper and lower lips, and such thick, dark makeup on her eyelids and lashes, I was surprised she could keep her eyes open. The first time my nieces saw her, they’d asked me if one of their porcelain dolls had come to life. They obviously didn’t believe me when I’d told them ‘no’ because they sat in the corner of the dressing room on a pile of pillows,looking from their dolls back to Daminica while murmuring in each other’s ears.

Daminica claimed to have been my new lady-in-waiting and appeared to be pure Fae with her swanlike neck and tapered ears, unlike the servants, who all looked a mixture of human and Fae. I had no idea what a lady-in-waiting was, but I knew I didn’t need one. I needed only my mates and my nieces. I refused to dress in such ridiculous court fashion. I was compromising enough by agreeing to the tight white and silver bodice that pushed my boobs so far out, they looked like two giant, fleshy pillows. Not that my mates minded the bodice. They gawked at me like hungry dragons that had discovered an abandoned flock of sheep.

Drae and Blaze looked particularly handsome, wearing silk black jackets cut in the back to accommodate their wings and tight black leggings that would’ve proudly displayed how well-endowed they both were if their gray embroidered tunics hadn’t barely covered them. Drae’s long, dark hair was tied back in a queue, while Blaze’s normally windswept hair was slicked back. They both looked like proper lords, and elements help me, I wanted to tear those clothes off them.

I tried to stuff my boobs into my bodice to no avail while scowling at my reflection in the full-length mirror. My dark hair looked perfect in a simple coronet on top of my head, complimented by a small diamond tiara that had been delivered by the queen.

“Malvolia will get over it,” I finally answered while catching Daminica’s eye.

She and the servants behind her simultaneously gasped. “But the queen—”

“Will have to understand.” I gave up trying to conceal my breasts and settled for draping a silver silk shawl around my shoulders.

Daminica thrust the wig toward me. “But the wig matches the silver in your hair.”

“What?” I scoffed, pushing the wig away again. I was getting sorely tempted to send the servants away with my siren voice. “I don’t have silver hair.”

Imagine my surprise when Daminica set down the wig and motioned toward the mirror, showing me a silver strand weaved into the coronet. I had initially thought the pale strand was an effect of the overhead candlelight.

I gasped, clutching my throat. “What’s happening? I’m too young for silver hair.”

“That’s normal,” Drae said with a wink as he stood behind me, examining my costume. “Look at the paintings of Maiadra hanging in the castle’s gallery. Her hair had silver strands in it. Something to do with her white magic.”

“And proof that you’re a white witch,” Nikkos said, beaming, a note of pride in his voice.

“I guess a few silver pieces are okay.” I tried, and failed, to rearrange a braid so that it concealed the imperfection. “I don’t want it all turning silver.”

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