Page 74 of Atop the Faerie Throne
Oops.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
It’s not just losing it that I’m apologising for. I know my death bothered him as well.
“You are forever pushing yourself into harm’s way.” His disappointment stings more than the palm of his hand. “After you were repeatedly told not to. Worse, this time you knew you risked the life of the Goddess-damned Fomorian as well.”
My disbelief is enough to make me twist my neck to meet his eyes.
“You’re mad that Caed could’ve died?”
He raises a single brow, and it takes everything in me not to stick out my tongue in response. I don’t understand him, even with the bond.
“I was trying to forgive him,” Drystan says, straddling the backs of my thighs and pinning me down. “Had I known Iwas subjecting myself to his intolerable presence for naught, I wouldn’t have bothered.”
“That is the most twisted male logic—” Another hard spank cuts me off, and I scream in shock. “Drystan!” Shit! That slip earns me another, just as harsh, on the other side. “Master!” I hastily correct.
My ass is glowing, and more embarrassingly, I’m soaked. Thanks to his weight on me, I can’t even rub my thighs together to ease the burning ache that he’s responsible for. The worst thing about the bond is I can feel his satisfaction as he caresses the reddened flesh, admiring his own handiwork. Even if having him play with my ass like this wasn’t such a turn on, I’m pretty sure I’d be on the edge of coming from that alone.
“You died.” He spanks me again. “You lost your engagement necklace.” Another spank.
“I’m sorry,” I plead, as the humiliating slick of my own arousal drips past my clit and soaks into the bedding. “I want it back.”
Drystan flicks aside my hair and uses his free hand to collar my throat.
“I don’t believe you.”
What? How can he not…?
“I need it back,” I beg. “Please, master. I won’t ever lose it again. I love you.”
Drystan’s bond skips in my mind, and the next strike is the hardest yet.
“I do,” I promise. “I love you.”
In a single piercing instant of clarity that’s completely out of place in my lust-blanked mind, I realise what this is.
Drystan, who has only known rejection and coldness from everyone who was supposed to love him, is concerned that I might not want him anymore. This might be a little about my dying, but the necklace was his symbol of my acceptance. Everytime he saw it around my neck, he knew I still wanted him and was still choosing him.
This is his grumpy way of asking for reassurance that nothing has changed. That I still love him.
Of course, being a surly Winter Court lord, he couldn’t just ask me like a normal person.
He’s lucky that my ass is happy to bear the brunt of his preferred method of communication.
“I will always love you,” I whisper as his thumb caresses the side of my throat. “Please, master, put it on me again. I won’t wait to ask next time. I want it back. I should’ve worn it when Lore fucked me, just so they all knew I was yours, too.”
My begging does things to him, even though his face never shows it. Fire lights up the depths of his eyes, turning the amber to magma as he picks up the delicate chain and holds it towards my lips.
“Kiss it.”
My breath whooshes out of me as I follow the order, pressing my lips to the snowflake gem and sighing in relief as he finally, blessedly, threads the chain back where it belongs.
“We’re not done yet,” he murmurs in my ear as he clicks the clasp back into place.
We aren’t?
“I want to come,” I tell him flatly.
