Page 24 of Fairy's Forbidden Touch
“Nothing that will come to pass,” he assured me quickly. “My position protects you. But I felt you should know the full situation.”
I studied his face, sensing there was still something he wasn’t telling me. “Thalen. What aren’t you saying?”
He sighed, the formal facade slipping. “There is a tradition… when a true bond is confirmed, it must be formallyacknowledged within a certain timeframe. Otherwise, it is considered rejected, and measures can be taken to sever it.”
“What kind of timeframe are we talking about?”
“One lunar cycle from official recognition,” he said. “Which, in our case, would be… three days from now.”
“Three days?!” I exclaimed. “And you’re just telling me this now?”
He looked genuinely remorseful. “I had hoped to find an alternative. To give you more time. But the court astrologers have set the date, and tradition is… inflexible in these matters.”
I ran a hand through my hair, feeling the pressure of this impossible decision. “So I have three days to decide whether to become magically bonded to you for centuries, or reject the bond and… what? Never see you again?”
“Not never,” he said quickly. “But the connection would be… altered. Diminished.”
“Jesus,” I muttered. “Talk about relationship pressure.”
Thalen moved closer, taking my hands in his cool ones. “I will respect whatever choice you make, Jesse. If you wish to reject the formal bond, I will find ways to continue seeing you, court traditions be damned.”
The fierce determination in his voice made something shift inside me. This wasn’t just about magical bonds or court politics—it was about us, about what had grown between us over these past weeks. Something real and valuable, regardless of its magical origins.
“I need to think,” I said finally. “Can I have until tomorrow night? To make a decision?”
He nodded immediately. “Of course. Whatever time you need, within the constraints we face.”
I leaned forward to kiss him, needing the reassurance of physical connection amidst all this magical complexity. Hisresponse was immediate and intense, cool lips moving against mine with an urgency that spoke of his own emotional turmoil.
What had started as a gentle kiss quickly evolved into something more desperate, his hands tangling in my hair as mine sought the fastenings of his shirt. We’d become experts at undressing each other over the past weeks, and soon clothing was being discarded with frantic efficiency.
There was a new intensity to our encounter—a need to connect physically while so much remained uncertain emotionally. I pushed him back against the floor, taking control in a way he had come to enjoy despite his naturally commanding nature.
“I need you,” I murmured against his throat, working my way down his body with lips and teeth and tongue. “Right now.”
“Yes,” he breathed, the patterns beneath his skin flaring brightly in the dimly lit apartment. “Please, Jesse.”
I retrieved the lubricant from my hastily unpacked bedroom supplies, returning to find him gloriously naked on my living room floor, silver hair spread around him like a halo. The sight never failed to take my breath away—the otherworldly beauty of him, the fact that I alone could touch him.
Maybe there is something to this magical bond thing after all.
With practiced movements, I prepared him, watching as the patterns beneath his skin pulsed brighter with each touch. He had become more vocal over our time together, more willing to express his pleasure openly, and the sounds he made now echoed through my small apartment.
When I finally pushed inside him, the connection felt more significant than ever—not just physical pleasure but something deeper, a joining that transcended the merely carnal. His legs wrapped around my waist, pulling me deeper as his hands clutched at my shoulders.
“Jesse,” he gasped, my name in his musical accent sending shivers down my spine. “I can feel the bond. Between us. Can you feel it?”
And surprisingly, I could—a subtle vibration, a resonance that seemed to flow between us with each movement. Something that had perhaps always been there but that I was only now conscious enough to recognize.
“Yes,” I admitted, maintaining the rhythm that I knew drove him wild. “I feel it.”
His expression transformed with wonder and relief, the patterns beneath his skin brightening to illuminate the room. Around us, I became aware of a subtle shimmer in the air—similar to what had happened in his chambers in the fae realm, but more subdued in the human world.
“It grows stronger,” he whispered. “With acknowledgment.”
I leaned down to capture his lips, increasing the pace as our bodies moved together with practiced synchronicity. Whatever was happening between us—magic or chemistry or some combination of both—it felt right, felt necessary.
When release came, it crashed through both of us simultaneously, the patterns beneath his skin flaring blindingly bright as the shimmer in the air coalesced around us momentarily before dissipating like mist. I collapsed beside him, breathing hard, my mind struggling to process the intensity of what we’d just experienced.
