Page 52 of Atop the Faerie Throne
Drystan grabs the redcap by his throat, holding him at arm’s length over the drop. “Shut your insane gibbering for five seconds while we explain the situation.”
“A proper redcap fucking?” I guess. Based on Lore’s reaction, how could it be anything else? “You want me to go out there and let Lore…” I trail off, not from discomfort, but more from the unexpected rush of nerves and arousal that has me clenching my thighs together.
I suppose, as distractions go, it’s definitely unique.
“I made you a beautiful pile of heads in the middle of market square if you’d like to visit that first to get yourself in the mood!” Lore promises, not even bothering to blink himself out of Drystan’s hold.
He has to be uncomfortable like that, given that he’s literally dangling in mid-air. Unfortunately, looking down at his feet means that my eyes automatically pass over the plainly visible length of his erection straining against the deep red ochre of his leathers.
“The actual plan,” Drystan continues. “Is that we all head through the city, destroying any pockets of resistance we come across. It’s likely that, if you agree, the redcap will be unable to control his urges by the end, especially if we should happen to come across any other troops of redcaps and?—”
“And Cressida.” A surge of jealousy burns from my chest, scalding my throat. “If we do this, there’s a chance she’ll see.”
Not just me enjoying myself, but Lore. Who she’s touched before. Kissed. Fucked.
It may have been years ago, but it doesn’t change the twinge of possessiveness that follows.
My redcap finally blinks himself from Drystan’s hold until we’re nose to nose.
“What’s wrong, silly pet? Don’t you want every single fae on that battlefield to see your claim on me?”
Perhaps it’s his own arousal winding down our bond that makes me do it. Maybe it’s just the innate magnetism of my mate, but I wrap my arms around his neck and drag him closer, taking his lips in a kiss.
My claim.Those two words reframe everything. They strip the last of my mortal inhibitions away and replace them with dark, needy promises of pleasure and power.
“Remember,” Bree whispers in my ear as I pull back. “Nothing happens without your full and enthusiastic consent. Lore will survive without this if it makes you uncomfortable.”
I chew at my lip, which prompts the redcap to lean forward and free it with his sharper teeth, bringing an edge of seductive pain to the mix. My hand takes his, stroking my mark across his left palm.
“I want to keep my clothes on,” I eventually say. “Can we do that?”
All five of them freeze, and Lore’s pupils dilate until the red is little more than a thread around the rim. His gaze dips, then slowly travels up my leggings and tunic.
“Can I rip them just a little?”
“Redcap,” Jaro snarls.
“No. I… I accept that. And I want to be on top.”
It’s a bold decision, but if I’m claiming him, then I’mclaiminghim. Every fae instinct inside of me purrs with the idea. My breasts heave beneath the soft linen of my shirt, somehowheavier than they were a moment ago, and if that wasn’t enough of a clue as to my interest, my nipples harden into sharp little points the moment Lore presses us together.
He can’t miss them, just like I can’t ignore the way his cock presses against my lower belly, hot, hard, and eager. I know exactly how much he craves this, but it’s more than that. He craves my eagerness, my desire.
His enjoyment is entirely dependent on my own.
“Want to ride me, pretty pet?” His voice is lower and huskier than I’ve ever heard it. “Are you going to pin me down and fuck me until everyone knows exactly whose mate I am?”
A shiver traces down my spine. I swallow the sudden dryness that’s taken up residence in my throat and meet his smile with a small smug one of my own.
“Yes.”
His breath hitches. “Shall I get the cuffs?”
Goddess, this male, I think to myself with amused exasperation as he blinks us back into the battle.
Though the anticipationis killing me, we stick to the plan. The six of us are like a well-oiled machine as we walk through the inner city. Wraith and Jaro’s wolf stick close to me, using their teeth to cut down anyone who gets through the two-dozen fae warrior spirits defending us. Bree is flying above, calling down the Fomorians’ numbers and positions while Drystan, Caed, and Lore tear through the enemy with savage glee.
I think they’re even trying to keep count of their kills. They definitely forget to offer the Fomorians the chance to surrender more than once.
