Page 66 of Curse the Fae

Elixir nudges his prick against my folds and leans down to hiss against my lips, “How deeply do you want it?”

Because this doesn’t mean anything, because it’s not the romantic first-time fantasy I’ve nurtured all my life, I’m not going to be precious about it. This is something more, something potent, something imperfect. It’s real.

I slide my palm along his jaw and whisper into his mouth, “Don’t be gentle.”

Rays of gold blaze from his eyes. My fingernails claw down his spine and dig into his rear. Elixir snaps, and I snap, and we lunge into one another.

With a forward pitch of his hips, his cock thrusts into me. I bow against him and cry out as his length fills me whole. My walls yield and grip him in a tight clutch, encasing him to the hilt.

“Ah,” cracks from my lips. The pain sears through me in a span of seconds, the sheer size of him robbing me of breath. Just as swiftly as it comes, the pain changes, pricking into something sharply satisfying.

Elixir’s eyes cinch shut, and he utters a hoarse noise. His muscles lock, and his body vibrates. I expect an instant pounding, but instead he doesn’t move until my joints loosen around him. I sigh as the wet clench of my body sucks him in, my folds spreading to accommodate him.

He must feel that because his eyes rip open, and he slips out, and he whips his cock into me again.

And I like it.

“Yes,” I plead. “Yes…there.”

“So…deep,” Elixir growls.

He withdraws and then slings his waist forward again, spreading me apart. The Fae’s hips strike a serpentine tempo, lashing into me with deft stokes. Every beat of his hips causes moans to topple from my mouth. His rear juts back and forth, his hips swipe between my thighs, and his cock swats into the cleft.

Our groans collide, matching the pace of his length. My hips vault off the bank, meeting his thrusts, my body jerking across the ground. Water sloshes against us, licking our limbs. In several places, I catch sight of scales materializing along his calves but not developing fully into a tail.

Elixir’s sinuous rhythm urges my head to fly backward. I whimper and sob, the pleasure-pain replaced by ecstasy. My nails puncture the divots in his ass, possibly drawing blood because he growls in appreciation and hooks my leg higher, bracing it between us and lunging his cock deeper, deeper, deeper. The angle of his prick and the position creates a depth I hadn’t thought reachable, the result spine-tingling. I feel him so buried, so seated in my wet grip, that my cries solidify into shouts.

The pleasure goes on, and on, and on. Our bodies roll together, cries breaking from our mouths.

It’s not enough. I want it quicker.

“More,” I whimper. “Give me more.”

Elixir nods. He lets out a jagged noise, hunches forward, and pistons into me at a maddening pace. He goes faster, harder, deeper. He makes love to me viciously, fucks me thoroughly, takes my virginity and hurls it like a boulder into the water.

Our hips slam against one another. His cock plies my walls, soaking me to the brim, the crown hitting a spot that sends us into chaos. We buck, frantic. That earlier crescendo builds again, a wave cresting, roaring.

Still, I can’t reach it. Not yet.

I contract around Elixir, wrenching groans from his open mouth, my wetness dripping now. Muscles clench in his abdomen, contorting with each push of his waist. He bends, catches the shell of my nipple between his lips, and sucks while accelerating his hips, propelling into me over and over.

Elixir releases my nipple and switches to the other. I holler, rock my hips with his, and lodge him farther still. Fables above, he’s opening me so wide, deepening me so much.

We drive against one another, pumping ourselves into it, the pond splashing around us. I’m drowning in my own arousal, in his weight, in his howls. A cord winds where Elixir plows into me, where I drench him from base to crown. It stretches us thin until we’re manic.

Elixir lifts himself up, balls my hands into fists, and pins them above my head. With my wrists bound to the grass, he gazes down and charges. The Fae puts his entire body into it, his waist swinging with force and vaulting into my thighs, which fall apart beneath him.

We launch forth, our joints shaking. I weep from each pitch of his cock, the strokes long and far too deep to be real. Like he predicted in The Mer Cascades, I take it thoroughly but not purely. Fables forgive me, I take it again and again and again.

The cord snaps. The wave breaks and surges.

At the last second, my eyes latch onto Elixir’s. And somehow, he finds me as well.

Our gazes cling as we ride each other into the ground. Our bodies give and release, spilling over in a wash of sensation.

“Yes,” I shout. “Yes!”

“Come,” he pleads. “Come with me!”

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