Page 89 of Curse the Fae

My shaky hands remain buried in his mane. Elixir gropes my backside with one palm and braces the other around my nape, the better to maneuver me up and down on his prick, his thrusts tireless.

I arch backward into the cave, into the air while clinging to his neck. My body juts from the thump of his waist, my thighs flaring wide.

“Ah,” I sob. “Elixir.”

“Again,” he growls. “Close them again.”

He must have guessed. Despite the glossy blackness, I cinch my eyes shut and submerge into a void, a place where nothing exists but this—his wet body, steam coating the air, and my lungs emptying. This stifling wilderness of cascades, blossoms, and pleasure.

At my rapturous moans, his thrusts accelerate.

At my stuttering pleas, his cock strikes quick and shallow, repeatedly hitting a spot that destroys our vocal cords. And…it’s…so…good. I’m clamoring, and he’s shouting, and the waterfalls catch the sounds.

My walls yield around Elixir, the inner muscles constricting around his length. Blood whittles to the place where we’re joined, our waists slamming together now, charging toward the precipice. I can’t think, can’t speak. I’m a wild creature, nothing but raw sensation and dire need.

Fables forgive us. We grind, and grind, and grind.

Elixir clasps me harder, bows me farther. The angle of our coupling shifts, his cock reaching a new angle and striking there, over and over. The pressure mounts, the decadent strain of it coiling in my bones.

I become inconsolable, and he becomes irredeemable, the pound of his body devastating. I squeeze Elixir inside me, my folds tensing around his cock. He moves with abandon, his hips driving into me, spurring us toward the edge.

“Take it in,” he entreats. “Take me in.”

“Oh, Fables,” I shout. “Yes.”

And the wave crashes. My walls contort, his cock shudders, and we climax in a tumult of noise. I cry to the ceiling. Elixir hollers into the depth. We expel ourselves, my wetness seeping onto his hardness.

For the second time, we dissolve into the pond. I tumble into his arms, and Elixir anchors me to him, his own muscles slackening.

Like one of the lily pads, we float aimlessly. Elixir reaches past me and swats his arm. At once, the cascades drain, the deluge ceasing. The pond goes silent.

We heave, sucking in air. Overwhelmed, I twist my cheek into his shoulder and nestle my lips into the crook of his throat, which flexes as he swallows. We linger, hidden in the darkness, the world obscure yet somehow clearer and more vivid than I’d known it could be.

My eyes sting, but I mustn’t let the tears fall. I mustnot.

Elixir goes still. “Are you…crying?”

“No,” I sniffle.

He reels back, agonized. “Did I hurt you?”

Days ago, he would have smelled the saltwater and heard the tears leaking, even before I made a noise. Now he can’t read me. But of course, fibbing isn’t my best skill, which is why he licks that single traitorous drop from under my eyelashes.

“You are a poor liar,” he murmurs. “And you are not ashamed of tears.”

He says this without the cynicism, distaste, or rancor I’d expect of his kind. Instead, he speaks with admiration, because he knows me.

He’s right. I have no qualms about crying. But I don’t want to leave here, and I don’t want to return to the world outside this pond, and I don’t want to regret this.

“It’s just,” I blubber. “It’s just I never knew.”

Elixir shakes his head. “Neither did I.”

That fucking could be so exquisite, nor lovemaking so primal. That they could be one and the same. That such a vicious touch could be so sweet.

I never knew it could be like this.

The Fae’s voice is brittle, like shredded paper. “You will be my undoing.”

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