Page 93 of Destined for the Fae King

“Will you join me, Mira?” His breath ghosts across the shell of my ear and sends a shiver down my spine. “Or have you changed your mind?”

“No.” It comes out a little squeak. “I haven’t changed my mind.”

He gives a low chuckle that turns my insides soft and melty.

“Good. Because I want to see you wearing my ring. Only my ring.”

Chapter 37

Lysandir’s fingertips trail downmy arm before he pulls away. My pulse pounds in my ears as I listen to him return to the tub. Only then do I finally move, pulling my dress over my head and slipping out of my underwear.

I want this. So much.

But turning around to face him is still one of the more challenging things I’ve ever done. I’m no fae—not perfect and willowy in the way so many of them are. Too be honest, I’m pretty average, and despite my love for dance, I’ve always had some extra pounds I can’t seem to shed no matter what. It’s all on display now, and I can’t help but wonder if I’ll measure up to his imaginings. He’s had years to picture this after all.

I stand perfectly still, arms at my sides, hair loose and shoved behind my back. Per his request, only his ring on its chain remains on my body, warm and solid against my skin. His gaze is hot and intent, searching every inch of me from my head to my toes then back again. But it’s not a quick examination, more a slow perusal, as if he’s trying to memorize every curve and dip.

I hold my breath all the while, fighting the urge to shield myself with my arms.

Eventually, he blinks, then scrubs a hand down his face. A curse slips from his lips. “You’re beautiful. Even more than I imagined.”

“Impossible,” I scoff.

But the praise adds a little pep to my step as I finally stride toward him.

“No, Mira. You’re a dream come true. Seeing you here before me…” He shakes his head. “Not even my imagination was so generous. And this?” He gestures between us. “After what I saw, I never thought something like this would be possible.”

“But it is.” I remind him. “I’m here.”

“You are.”

Lysandir rises from the steaming water, and I force my attention to remain glued to his face. His arm is outstretched to help me into the water.

Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Don’t look down.

I look.

The sight of him takes all the warmth and moisture from my body and sends it straight to my core. Holy shit. A little trail of hair races downward from his chiseled lower abs. His thighs are lean but powerful. But it’d be a lie to say it’s not the sight between them that has me so affected. To say he’s well-endowed would be an understatement, and I’m treated to the sight of every glorious inch of his hard length. Any lingering doubts about his feelings about me and my little surprise vanish.

When I finally return my attention to his face, a little smirk twitches at the corner of his mouth.

I take his hand and let him help me into the deep tub. Citrus-scented water at the edge of being too hot wraps around me as Lysandir pulls me down into his lap. I gasp at the feel of his chest under my palms, my thighs on either side of his, and his hard length between us, prodding toward my stomach.

“Fuck.” His head drops back. A magical glow emanates from him. Lysandir’s hands run slowly up and down my sides under the water. When he tilts his head back up, I nearly combust on the spot from the hunger in his eyes. “How am I supposed to keep my sanity after this? Touching you, holding you close.”

I pull my bottom lip between my teeth. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”

Because he’s right. How can I not want more? How could I think this was a good idea when it just reminds me of all the things I can’t have, except maybe in stolen little moments like this one?

“No.” He pulls me toward him, and I gasp as I slide along his legs, my center bumping up against his cock in the most deliciously tempting way. “We’re going to enjoy this moment, Mira. I wish I thought of it myself. I wish I’d had the courage to suggest it myself.”

“Will it work?” I ask, anything to distract myself from the feel of him.

At that, he releases me to grab a vial of soap from the side of the tub and pours the entire thing into tub. “Nothing is perfect, but the water and the scents will help. But I still can’t—” His throat bobs. “I can’t fuck you. I want you, too much, and I think you want me.”

I nod enthusiastically, which earns a little grin.

“If we did, I’d mark you.” He slides his hand down to my hip, his thumb rubbing little circles on my lower abdomen, right in the area where his mark would appear. “I’d mark you so hard everyone would know that you’re mine.”

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