Page 63 of Curse the Fae

Elixir hums, inhaling what his kiss does to my body. I should be embarrassed, but I feel none of those things. All I feel is dizzy for more. The lust refuses to abate, the craving only getting worse, more torturous. I’m so wound up, I pull on his roots, yanking them for leverage, to keep my balance lest I puddle to the ground.

Elixir likes it. A carnal growl rumbles from his chest. He lets go of my hair and clamps my rear once more, plastering me to him, nearly hoisting me off the floor.

We kiss madly, furiously, relentlessly. Elixir feasts on the scattered noises vibrating from my mouth, then seethes when my tongue winds around his. I lick my way into him, swabbing his heat, matching its pace.

Our feverish pleas knit and snarl into one. Our lips crash together, tugging, folding, opening, closing. Over…and over…and over.

Elixir wrenches back just enough for his teeth to come out. He nips my lower lip while his fingercaps graze my buttocks in a teasing threat, never actually puncturing me. I can’t take this, yet I want to take all of this.

Pleasure gushes from my being, from my pores. I feel monstrous and chaotic, his scent invigorating me, his arms entrapping me.

Elixir bites lightly, then draws his tongue across my upper lip. Emboldened, I snag my teeth into the crook of his mouth, then swipe at it, laving the spot. Instantly, tremors wrack his frame. With another moan, he smothers my mouth with his, plying me with rough strokes.

My lungs empty. Our lips fuse and undulate, tongues thrusting and plaiting.

When my fingers scale his ears and fondle the peaks, the kiss roars to life. He heaves into my mouth, and I keen into his, and our lips grind together. I think my eyes swoop to the back of my skull. The strength of his mouth turns my knees to jelly.

Tingles fill my stomach, my womb, and my toes. We peel back, twist our heads, and slam into another kiss.

Vaguely, I recall learning that in addition to his virginity, Elixir has never kissed another living soul. If that’s true, it must be in his lineage, this inherent ability to throttle my senses, to pulverize them to dust.

Then it hits me: I’m his first.

I’m the first to taste his tongue. I’m the first to mold my mouth with his. I’m the first to have this.

At the knowledge, a wet rush floods my center. I grip his tongue and suck, increasing the pressure based on the octave of his growls.

That’s it. Give me that cursed mouth. Surrender it to me.

Elixir does, his jaw unhinging and his lips rolling with mine. For a little while, at least. He’s not to be trifled with.

In a swift move, the Fae crushes me against him and seizes my lips once more. He traces the raw seam and thrusts inside, and I meet him with every slick pass. Our tongues work us both into a stupor, each of us seeking dominance.

He kisses like a villain—dark, lethal, and punishing.

A whine curls from me as Elixir veers back, prying his mouth from mine. My lips are as swollen as his own, yet not nearly satiated. But my protest ripples into a shocked moan when he dips his head and latches onto the flesh beneath my jaw. His open mouth drags down the column of my throat, at once suckling, then grazing his ivories along my collarbones.

I whimper and curl into him. His silken hair tickles my arms as he moves on reflex, impulsive and unpredictable. Sparks flare in the wake of his mouth.

Elixir reaches my earlobe and draws his mouth along the rim. Leaning in, he etches the same path with his tongue and ascends to the rounded top.

“Oh,” I stutter.

“Fade jlvjode,”Elixir grates out.“Éck frái fade jlvjóde.”

Then he drives his tongue into my ear. My nails burrow into his shoulders, fastening him to me. I tilt my head and give him full access, keening aloud as he moves from one ear to the other.

Meanwhile, his fingers vault down my back to trace my shoulders, the rail of my spine, and the flare of my waist. He breaks away, wrests the clasped shoulders of my dress, and rips the garment in half. The urgent echo of sundered fabric tears through the cave. The frock shreds down the middle, from neckline to hem, and billows to the ground. Astonishment and excitement peal from my lips.

I stand naked before him, my body on display. Flushed breasts, my thighs quivering with need, and the patch of hair between my legs glistening. In his own unearthly way, I know he can picture this. A frightful, wanton thrill eddies through me at the raging look on his face.

The Fae slithers around me, stalking to align himself with my back. My heart is a battering ram, and my limbs wobble from the change in position. I gawk at our surroundings, having forgotten where we are. The lily pond bleeds light onto the grass and tints my sandaled feet.

That’s all I have the patience to notice. Our movements haven’t been leisurely thus far, but now they accelerate even more. From behind, Elixir grabs my hips, yanks me against him, and dives his palms down the front of my body. My arms shoot backward in invitation, and I hook onto his nape while he scrapes my collarbones. Small noises chip from my gullet. I arch, my breasts heavy, my nipples aching and pitting into the humid air.

We pant harder, faster. His hands skate along the sides of my breasts, then curve inward to cup the swells. He massages and fondles them. The sharp index fingers circle the nipples until they’re as hard as shells, and I’m squirming and muttering something unintelligible.

At last, he swirls his thumbs over the crests. I choke on my breath. Elixir drops his head over my shoulder, his masculine husk beating against me. He traces and pinches, the sensations urging my thighs apart.

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