Page 87 of Curse the Fae

“Cove,” he heaves. “Cove.”

That’s the sound. I nod, my heart swimming.

Aftershocks jolt through Elixir’s frame. He slumps and folds his hand over me. We stay like that, gulping and panting, while I run my thumb over his spent cock.

Although I’d very much like to keep touching him, Elixir reluctantly maneuvers out of my grasp and whirls to face me. He stares down, captivated. A mesmerized light smolders in his eyes as he strays over my features. It’s a private look, new for him and meant only for me.

I glance at the fingercaps, then sketch their points. “May I?”

Elixir nods. I pop the caps from his digits and toss them to the bank. Shedding the accessories reveals the olive skin and groomed nails underneath. His fingers are lovely, strong like the rest of him, yet defined.

And scarred.

The Fae tenses, but his joints unwind as I twist his hand to examine the burn marks rising from the pads of his fingers. I gulp, sensing what these are from. “You said you erased the wounds.”

He shakes his head. “Not these.”

The iron door of his cage. He’d used a mixture to cure the wounds on his knuckles, but he kept these ones.

“Before the fish helped you,” I say. “Did you try pulling open the door yourself?”

“Yes,” Elixir says, his words devoid of self-pity. “After they sealed me inside. The mob had several river fauna with them, and I watched the humans take the animals away. I tried…” He clenches his eyes shut. “I tried.”

“Elixir.” I press kisses to each scar, because it wasn’t his fault, and I want him to feel something other than pain.

His head ducks, watching me soothe him.

When I look up, our fingers knit, and our foreheads rest together.

“Um…” Bashfulness heats my face. “Did you feel good?”

“Good is not the word,” he husks. “I felt as I never have. I felt euphoric.”

With my free hand, I map out his eyelashes. I think about how I’d touched Elixir without looking at him, and I imagine what that everlasting darkness must be like.

Balancing on my tiptoes, I speak against his mouth, “Show me what you feel. Show me the darkness.”

Elixir pulls back, arousal swirling in his orbs. His fingers steal out to sweep a tendril of teal from my shoulder, then he brushes his hand through the nearest cascade, and all the lights in the pond snuff out. Blackness eclipses the water’s blue sheen and the pearl radiance of the lilies.

Elixir runs his lips across my profile until he locates my ear. His deep, silken voice rumbles, “Close them.”

My stomach flips with anticipation. I obey, letting my eyelids flutter shut.

The universe reduces to pure sensation. Taste, touch, smell, and sound.

The whiff of bergamot and black pepper. The sweet tang of humidity, an unexpected flavor carried in the air. His firm grip on my hips and the tingle of his skin pressed to mine. Fluid smacking the banks, the clapping sound of waterfalls as they hit the pond, and the jangle of lily petals—noises I hadn’t registered before.

How he sees this world is beautiful.

I feel lost yet hyperaware of Elixir’s movements. He spins me away from him and traces my curves, from my hips to the ruched tips of my breasts, showing me what it’s like to feel without sight. It’s an ambush of sensations. Knuckles skate over my ribs, gooseflesh pops across my flesh, and masculine outtakes puff along my neck.

My backside grazes his cock, the length still erect against my spine. I gasp and rub myself into him.

He grunts, “That is fucking evil.” Then he jerks me into him, my shoulders mashing with the plate of his torso. “As am I.”

To demonstrate, Elixir ushers me forward. The ground slants downward into the pond, and the water rustles around us as we descend and begin to glide. Swathed in blackness, I float with him, our bodies weightless.

Fully submerged, his limbs disappear beneath us and shiver into a tail. I feel it swaying, driving us toward another part of the pond, where a thin stream leaks from someplace overhead. When it grows louder, the droplets plopping into the water, we idle in place.

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