Page 106 of Sweetling
The sun outside was overbright, and Molly stood in the courtyard blinking for a moment, letting her eyes adjust. She rubbed at them to ease the sting, definitelynotto wipe away any tears that weren’t there.
A warm muzzle snuffled at her shoulder.
Are you all right?
“Yeah.” Molly put her hands on her hips and turned her face to the sky. “Thank you for coming to save me.”
It was no trouble. You know how I enjoy inspiring terror.
She went to grin but remembered her bruised jaw. Groaning, she touched a hand to her face, some feeling returning. She definitely had a split lip, and her jaw was sore to the touch.
Bellarand lowered his big head to inspect, and a huffing horsey laugh puffed against her.
Oh, you’re going to be in so much trouble.
24
Not only had Molly been in trouble, but she finally witnessed what could only be described as a true, full-blown fae conniption. There were dire threats against her uncle, there were long-winded scoldings and fierceI told you so’s, there were furious hand gestures and rogue bursts of magic. It’d taken hours and standing bodily in his way to stop Allarion from riding for the tavern to burn it down with her uncle, still alive, inside.
“It’s what he deserves,” her fae insisted.
“I agree, but you’re still not going to.”
Even though the sight of the tavern burning down may have been cathartic for Molly, she knew the girls weren’t ready to fully say goodbye to the place and their father. Perhaps he could set himself up with its sale and actually change—although she doubted it. And, she didn’t want to be the one who set the whole neighborhood alight.
She explained all these reasons, but her poor fae was beyond reason. Every time he saw her bruised jaw, he turned more purple than gray. She’d never seen him truly livid before. If she hadn’t known it was on her behalf, it might have been terrifying, but since it was, she actually found his rage arousing.
Eventually, Molly was able to use her body in other ways to keep him in the castle with her. Although her jaw and face were too sore to take him in her mouth, she was more than happy to massage him between her tits, something that’d become a fast favorite for him. He found it difficult to keep arguing when she dropped to her knees and pulled down his trou to play with his cock.
“Molly…” he warned.
“I thought I got whatever I wanted,” she said, laying on her pout a little thick. “I want to make you feel good—and then I want you to return the favor.”
A growl rumbled through him, and Allarion let his head fall back, his starlight hair hanging to nearly his rounded, muscled backside.
“Twins save me from headstrong mates.”
“I thought you’d prayed for a headstrong mate,” she reminded him.
“I did. I might be regretting it.”
“No, you’re not.” And to prove it, she took him in her hand and pumped, adding a twist of her wrist at the end.
Allarion choked on his argument.
To her delight, he quickly scooped her up and laid her gently back on the bed. Their clothes were soon gone, and Molly spent the evening lost in a series of orgasms that took her pain away. He took his aggression and frustration out with his tongue, lashing and spearing her with it, and Molly only wanted more.
He devoured her long into the night, until she cried off, but even then, when she woke in the morning, it was to his mouth sucking hard at her clitoris. Her fae was insatiable, and he rendered her lax, boneless, and drowsy before breakfast.
“Too tired to leave?” he said, revealing his scheme.
“Mmhmm. Do it again.”
And so, as compromise, Molly stayed abed their last day, resting between shattering orgasms. She joked that at this rate, he’d have to carry her over his shoulder when they left the next day.
His purple eyes sparkled—he took it as a challenge.
It was late morning by the time they were ready to leave Dundúran. Molly had said her goodbyes to the girls already, leaving clear instructions with them, Glenda, and Mayor Doherty of how they could write to her at the estate. She’d managed to extract promises from all the girls except Nora to write her at least once a week, if only to practice their letters—and managed to save the worst of her tears for when she was packing up her things back in their room in the castle.
