Page 18 of A Kiss From a Faerie King

Laurelle looks scandalized as she shakes her head.

“I’m not drunk!” she declares, crossing her arms over her chest. The picture of a petulant child. An idea sparks in her brown eyes as she drops her hands to the neckline of her dress.

“I’m not drunk,” she repeats.

With a forceful tug, she shreds the dress clear down the center. All thoughts empty out of my head as I take in her naked body. The smattering of freckles on her chest and stomach. Her full breasts and her hard nipples are at the center of them. My gaze drops lower to the patch of dark curls hiding the one place I want to be inside of forever.

Her voice is shaky, but her touch is firm as she reaches out and places my claws on her hip.

“I want you, Emrys.” My name on her lips, while she’s naked, has a trickle of seed seeping from my painfully hard cock. “I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”

This is going to be a long,longnight.

My claws tighten on her hip, my other hand feeling the fleshy swell of her ass and dragging her towards me. Her skin is hot and smooth. I will spend an eternity tasting and memorizing every inch of her.

“In the morning, my blossom,” I growl near her mouth, her warm breath bathing my lips. “If you still want me like this when the wine is out of your system, I’ll fuck you within an inch of your life.”

She thrusts herself more against me as I give her backside another squeeze. Her floral scent grows richer, and I can only imagine the amount of sweetness coating the inside of her thighs.

I drop my hand from her ass and take a step back. Laurelle’s eyes lock with mine as she lets out a particularly adorable growl. Without warning, she shoves hard against my chest and knocks me onto the bed. The cool silk meets my skin as she crawls on top of me.

Her wet cunt cradles me through my thin pants. Rubbing herself back and forth against my hardness, I let out a growl, and my claws find her hips to stop her. More seed leaks from me, and I can’t allow that.

I need to save it all for her perfect pussy.

Small hands fall to my chest as her breasts dangle before my eyes. I long to have her hard nipples in my palms—and most definitely in my mouth. Her curls tickle my skin as she leans down into my face. Her lips are pouty as her eyes plead with me.

“Emrys, please, I need you. You were the one who told me to be free,” she whines. “You unlocked this part of me I had buried away. I burn for you.”

With a growl, I lift her off my lap and toss her to the bed beside me. Not giving her a moment's reprieve, I climb on top of her and skim my nose up her neck. Her hands go to my back and dig into my muscles. My tongue licks up the shell of her ear, and I delight in her sigh.

Pressing my lips against her, I say each word carefully.

“Hold on to that lust, Laurelle. I’ll reward you for it.” My smile is wicked against the side of her face. “Tomorrow.”

Laurelle lets out a scream of frustration and rolls on her side, facing away from me. I laugh but slip off from atop her. Pulling back the sheets, I curl her back to my front and lay my arm along her waist.

Turning her head, she appraises me with unhappy brown eyes.

“You really are a cruel captor,” she huffs. “Is this how you decided to punish me for my crimes after all?”

My laugh rubbles from my chest as I pull her tighter against me. Her warmth soaks into my skin and dances with the inferno running through my veins.

“Trust me, my blossom, you’re going to thoroughly enjoy being punished by me.”

6

LAURELLE

Golden light streams into my face, rousing me from a deep, dreamless sleep.

Never in my life have my muscles been this sore. Last night, I used parts of my body I haven’t in a very long time. The dancing, the music, the wine—all of it feels like a dream. As my eyes adjust to the room around me, a small part of my brain still believes this is a dream.

How could it not be?

The utter decadence of last night. The way I had barely been dressed, and yet I moved without a care in the world. My body had twisted and swayed in time with the salacious drums and fiddles. I had sat in the king’s lap and touched him with reckless abandon before leading him to the dance floor. It had been me who guided him behind me. Me who had allowed him to touch me in a way I’ve never allowed another male—human or not—to.

Then he carried me back to this room and?—

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