Page 29 of Mischief Maker
“Just stop being kissable,” I say accusingly, my voice slurring.
“I’m trying, I’m trying!” Her body is rubbing so deliciously at my groin that I might just pop off right here. I pull her against me and peel up the skirt of her dress, where I find she’s wearing nothing underneath.
“Oh, you minx!” I reach down and grip her soft, pretty hips. She thrusts them into me, and with all that heady wine bubbling up inside me, I only want one thing.
I test her first, winding a finger down between her legs. Usually I fuck her with my mouth first, cock second, but tonight is different. We have finally conquered the menace that kept this wonderful, hard-working girl locked up. I need to feel her wrapped all the way around me, the only sound on the farm her colorful moans.
Faela gasps as I push a finger inside her, and she’s already soaked for me. I wonder how long she’s been lusting already.
In one motion, I roll on top of her, and my hips easily find their place between her legs. I hike up her ass with my hands because I plan on fucking her hard and deep. Her eyes are wide, her lips spread in a circle. When she says my name, there’s a fervent need in her drunken voice.
“Please, Kireth,” she says, her hazel eyes bright under the starlight.
Of course I acquiesce, positioning the head of my cock right at that small, pinkish slit. It gasps for me, opening and closing as her body thrums with her desire. I need to fill her and become filled with her.
Faela is so wet that it’s easy to plunge into her, and she writhes underneath me. I fuck her like this, burying myself so deep that my sac slaps against her fine, round ass until she’s tearing out grass with her hands and her head is thrashing back and forth.
“Kireth,” she moans. “You feel so good, I might die. Please, please—” She descends into nonsense as I reach as far into her as I can and pump there, searching out the place that drives her wild.
Almost immediately her climax takes her, and Faela screams as her head falls back and her cunt grips like a vise around me. Oh, yes, this is definitely my purpose for existing.
I pour all of myself into her, knowing that she is drinking the remedy I make every week. Each thrust tears more of my own orgasm out of me, and it’s beyond anything I’ve had in my long, long lifetime.
I struggle not to simply collapse on top of her. Instead I roll us over, my cock still engorged inside her, and press her forehead to my chest.
Faela traces the patterns on my body with the pad of her finger, as if she enjoys the feel of my skin. It is a wondrous thing to be loved by this woman.
“I’m so glad that terrible curse is gone,” I murmur against her hair, inhaling the sweet scent of it, of her. The wine is working its way through me, and I think how all that matters to me now is her happiness. “I’m sorry for my part in it.”
Faela’s body stiffens in my arms.
“What?” she asks quietly. “What do you mean, Kireth?”
My mouth closes so hard my teeth clack together. What have I done?
Chapter Twelve
Faela
I knew he wasn’t telling me something. My trickster god isn’t nearly as clever as he thinks he is, not anymore. I’ve learned his tells, like the way his tail weaves pinched little patterns in the air when he’s thinking about lying, or how he worries his lip with one of his canines when he won’t say what he’s thinking. His voice changes, somewhat higher pitched, when he’s not telling the full truth.
I sit up quickly, pushing my dress down to cover myself. I repeat my words.
“What do you mean by ‘your part,’ Kireth?”
He flinches when I use his name. He bites his lip and doesn’t look at me, and I know he’s hiding something. Something important.
“Did you really have something to do with the curse?” I press.
“Maybe?” He forces a smile and holds up two fingers just an inch apart. “Just a little bit.”
How is that possible? The sickness befell the farm long before I called on him.
“I don’t understand.” When Kireth reaches for my thigh, I pull it away. “Tell me the whole truth.”
Sighing, he rights himself and crosses his legs under him.
“I’m not a very good person, you know.” He gives me a rueful smile, trying to lighten the mood. “Not since the day Lucia made me.”
