Page 134 of Curse the Fae

Elixir sinks under the surface. One hand fastens to my hip, keeping me afloat as I gawk ahead, realizing what he’s about to do. My eyelids flutter at the sensation of his palm gliding over my naked legs. He bunches the caftan higher until it’s a mess of drenched fabric around my waist, then he hitches my knees over his shoulders and spreads me wide. I suck in a breath, the noise skittering down the tunnel.

But the inhalation quickly turns into a stuttered moan the instant his head ducks between my thighs. His hair brushes my skin. Both hands splay under my buttocks, fixing me in place so that I can’t move.

My core pulses, the inner flesh exposed—then inundated as the soft tip of his tongue flicks at the slit. I cry out, the sound fragmenting. A flurry of sensation erupts in the place where his mouth makes contact. With agonized slowness, Elixir samples the tender folds, the flat of his tongue sketching them, then nudging them farther apart, then dipping into them. He starts a rhythm, probing through my walls, in and out.

My muscles liquefy. My thighs quaver.

I squirm, my fingers dunking under the water and skewering into the roots of his hair. Using that for leverage, I grind my hips against his face, keening aloud with every lashing pump of his tongue.

Elixir licks into me, lapping at the wetness that leaks from my body, as if he wants to drink me dry. He does this until I’m inconsolable, my moans tight and needy, the water splashing around me.

He withdraws, rides his tongue along the seam, and finds the ridge of nerves within the thatch of curls. First, that tongue dabs at my clit, etching the ruched skin over and over. The feather-light touch ignites a thousand prickles and turns my cries into sobs. And when his mouth seals around the bud and tugs with force, white spots burst through the darkness.

He sucks and sucks and sucks me deeply.

The pleasure rises and rises and rises.

I feel the texture of his hum, satiny against the kernel of nerves. He alternates between pulling on the apex, lunging his tongue into my slickness, and urging more fluid from my body. The darkness swirls around us, blinding me to our surroundings, fixating me to his ministrations. Everything heightens, magnifies, and amplifies.

My hips gyrate astride his mouth and ride that silken, sinful tongue. The precipice edges nearer yet farther. Tremors wrack me, the spasm close, so very close. Elixir inches back and brings his full attention back to my nub, patting it rhythmically, laving that crest until it swells…throbs…and ruptures.

My digits yank on his mane, and my back arches, and dots explode in my vision. Heat bursts from my core. I shatter into the passage, weeping with pleasure while he gives me several more passes of his tongue, draining every forsaken drop, every streak of rapture from me.

I slump against the wall as Elixir sloshes up from the below, those eyes smoldering. He catches me in his arms, and his mouth brushes my slack lips, and he husks, “Does your cunt want more?”

“Yes,” I breathe.

My voice flutters, spent yet not entirely satiated. Elixir nods, his gaze brimming. He scoops me up and coasts across the tunnel while I hang on to him, limp as a blanket.

The pitch black evaporates behind us, replaced by a teal-spangled ceiling and a nearby waterslide. I recognize the passage now. Of course. I’d ventured through here on my way to the Middle Moon Sail, and I’d sat in a boat here with his brothers and my sisters. It’s the shortcut to the network of subterranean corridors that connects some of my favorite spots in this world, the places also accessible from the secret tunnel of The Sunken Isle.

Until now, I hadn’t realized how shallow the water becomes here. It would be effortless to stand upright. In fact, that would make it easy to do other things.

When Elixir reaches the landing where I’ve met him numerous times, the sight of that ledge restores my energy. He pauses and frames my waist, about to heft me onto the platform.

But I have another idea. And I move quicker.

I wiggle from his grasp, seize his shoulders, whirl him around, and push him against the landing. Elixir makes a gruff sound of surprise. His eyes stagger across mine. “What—”

“Sit on the ledge,” I order, then bat my lashes coyly. “Please, Sire?”

Because when I’d said I wanted more, I hadn’t meant for just myself.

Elixir hears the polite dominance in my tone. His visage creases, amorous and carnal.

Obediently, he tows himself onto the landing, the brackets of his arms bunching as they bear his weight. His viper tail shudders into limbs. I brace my fingers on the rim while watching the profile of his backside contract. In one glorious, dripping sprawl, the viper sits there with his smooth calves dangling over the sides.

He looks down, awaiting my intentions. I think he’s expecting me to mount the landing and straddle his waist.

A decadent thrill eddies through me, rinsing away the remnant shyness. Elixir gazes with interest, but it isn’t until I sidle between his knees that his face slackens, and he speaks through his teeth. “Cove.”

“Shh,” I beseech, placing a finger against my puckered lips. “This is only fair.”

He’d tasted me first, after all. His throat pumps, and his chest siphons air, but he doesn’t speak.

Just how speechless can I render him?

I slip into the vent of his legs, where his cock rises like a mast from his waist. It’s long, flushed dark, and swollen for me.

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