Page 67 of Curse the Fae

I heave into Elixir. My moan hardens into a deafening cry, the sound rushing out of me. Elixir stills and then roars. His body spasms, my walls constricting around him, and his liquid warmth spilling into me. We come at the same time, rocking our hips, exhausting the climax.

The cave vanishes. Darkness floods my head except for two rings of gold light.

We slump into the bank, into silence broken only by the pond’s ripples and our combined, shattered breaths.

Elixir’s mouth sags against mine. With my thighs spread around his hips, I sigh and sneak my fingers into his hair.

Don’t be gentle.

For my sake, he hadn’t been. But I can’t tell if I’d asked for this because I want to remember the villain he is, to remind myself of that fact when thinking back on this, or because I don’t want to discover he has a tender side.

Maybe it’s all those reasons. Or maybe it’s none of them.

Or maybe I’d wanted him just as he is.

Pleasure and turmoil clash. As I feel those emotions twisting my features, I’m grateful for one thing: Elixir might see what others can’t, but at least he can’t see this.

18

Images and colors drown me, the collage swirling too quickly to catch. At one point, the haze clears. A set of fingers traces my lips and brushes hair from my shoulders. A set of feet rubs against mine, warming them. I mumble something.

“Shh,” a voice whispers, the tone quiet against my mouth.

Arms band around me, and I fold myself into them, all the while feeling someone’s gaze fixed on my face, even as I fall back asleep.

Just as swiftly, I awaken to darkness and the sound of masculine outtakes, a steady stream of inhalations and exhalations as deep as a river. My head rests on the raft of someone’s torso, which inflates and deflates under my cheek.

Am I with a lover? Since when have I ever had one? A male one, that is?

Is this a dream?

His heart thuds into my ear, the beat slower than a human’s but no less vital of an organ, nor less real. Yet it’s a hard pulse, thwacking like a protective fist, a sound only I can hear. For some reason, it eases my soul, so that I snuggle into the body cradling me.

He’s built like a ship, all muscle and firm lines. My head nests in the crook between his shoulder and chest. A cascade of hair falls over my arm, which is slung around his waist. We’re braided together, limbs tangled.

Grass tickles my ankles, and damp soil squishes under my hip. The ripple of water sweeps through my awareness, a gentle lapping that sloshes over our toes. It’s not a current so much as water stirred from my movements. The liquid slide alerts me to a foreign environment perfumed with blossoms and musk. The latter is a sensuous aroma, the scent of intimacy.

It smells of sex.

My eyes fly open. I jolt in realization, then wince at the soreness between my legs, accompanied by a stinging bite of pain. Memories come rushing back—lips clamping with mine, hips thrashing between my open thighs, and a tidal wave of pleasure culminating in flashes of gold.

So much gold.

Arms coil around my body—mynakedbody—in a serpentine embrace. I twist my gaze toward the sleeping face beneath me, the encrusted scales glittering from his temples to his cheekbones, the long eyelashes, and the swollen mouth. The lips I had kissed until we’d lost our minds. The body that had thrust into me.

Elixir.

I disentangle myself from his grasp, vault upright, and gawk. He’s sprawled under me, his abs flexing and stacked like bricks, and the slope of his hips points to the masculine length draped between them. That mast had been erect for me, stiff and hot as it plied through my walls and pumped moans from my lips.

Despite having lost its rodlike shape, his cock is still glorious to behold.

Blue light from the lily pond bathes our entwined limbs. Green pads and blooming petals float atop the surface. That’s where we are, entangled at the water’s edge, where we had…

How deeply do you want it?

Don’t be gentle.

Fables forgive me. Heat scorches my breasts and face. Shock follows, seizing me by the throat. I’d slept with him.

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