Page 41 of Wrath of the Fae

‘Not gonna happen.’ I twist my wing again, making him roar in pain.

His face scrunches up before slamming into mine, knocking the sense clear from my head. Spots blur my vision as I fall back, and before I know it, I’m on my back, and he’s pinning me down. I press my hands on his chest, but it's like pushing against solid marble. He takes both my wrists, and before I can open my mouth to threaten him or make a move to try and end his life, he has my arm pinned above my head, and his lips are on mine.

And everything else just falls away. The whole fucking world. Gone.

There’s just him and me. Reid and his Little Bird.

My powers settle as if reacting to his contact. The ground stops trembling. The water ceases churning, and that overwhelming pit of despair becomes need and desire. He pulls back a little, his eyes open, watching me beneath him and reading my reaction. He takes my face in his hand, gripping tightly as he forces me to keep his gaze.

I feel his erection pressing hard between my legs, throbbing and straining against his trousers. With his knees, he widens my legs and nudges his cock closer. I gasp as it presses against my clit, shuddering as a ripple of pleasure courses through me. This makes him smirk with that devilish smile I know well.

He pulls back a little before grinding himself into me again. And again. And again, igniting the nerves between my legs, swelling my clit and building that ache deep in the core of my belly.

‘I am yours,’ he purrs, resting his forehead against mine as he continues nudging his twitching length into me. Then he warns in a low rumble. His brow furrowed as if daring me to argue. ‘You aremine.’

A low growl emanates from my chest, and a warmth spreads through me from head to toe. One of power, but also control. It’s not angry or vengeful like it usually is. And the growl… more of a purr. His eyes go down to where the sound came from.

‘That’s new,’ he murmurs. ‘I like it. I bet I can make you do it again.’ His free hand slides between my legs and beneath my skirt. He moans heavily as he sinks two fingers inside me, his mouth parted as he feels me. His deep exhale lands on my mouth as his eyes become hooded. ‘Soaking wet…’ he whispers longingly, swirling them inside me skilfully. ‘Dripping perfection. As always. Let me give you another.’

I let out another of those purrs when he slides in a third finger. He catches it with his parted lips as they crash into mine.

We kiss deeply and desperately, and I have no restraint, angling my hips upwards as he fucks me with skilled fingers. His teeth nip and bite as his tongue caresses and claims. All I know and feel is him. It’s compulsion driving me. I have to have him. I have to feel him. All is not enough. I want more. I demand everything.

I take his wrist, the one not buried between my thighs, and pull him away from pinning me down. He tries to regain his hold on me. But when I place it at my throat, he knows freedom is not what I seek. His fingers become my favourite necklace as he applies the perfect amount of pressure.

Such darkness in his eyes as he watches me below his body, held in place as he steals my air.

‘You want to come?’ he teases, tilting my head upwards as he applies a little more pressure. ‘I’m tempted to make you beg.’

He pulls his slick fingers from between my legs and slips them into his mouth.

Then his eyes widen.

‘My sweet Little Bird,’ he breathes. ‘How in the world are you a virgin? And there I was, thinking you could never taste better than you did.’ He takes his fingers and runs them along my lower lip. ‘Taste for yourself.’ The corner of his mouth twitches as I refuse, staring up at him breathing heavily with anger and want. A hate-filled lust that could either kill or devour him in a second.

And I could. So easily. I could bite his fucking fingers off. As he screamed, I could overpower him. Throw him to the ground. Kick him in the face. Break his nose, and as he roared in pain, blinded by blood and rage, I would take my dagger and slit his throat. I would relish the heat of his blood as it sprayed across my face. I would laugh as all he could do was gurgle and gasp at my feet. I could hack off his head and send it to the King in a box decorated with a bow.

I see it all play out in my mind. Such blood and glory.

But that is not what I do. I stare into his piercing baby blue eyes as his streaks of stark white hair fall over his face and suck his fingers in.

I never look away. Neither does he. My tongue circles as I work them like I want to work him.

‘Don’t you taste so sweet, hmm?’ he admires, watching as I clean his fingers, tasting myself. My arousal.

And yes. I do taste fucking sweet.

He returns all three of them to my pulsing and desperate pussy, and I throw back my head as my back arches, welcoming them with primal need.

His fingers tighten around my throat. His thumb circles my clit as his fingers stretch and massage me.

‘I’m going to make you see stars,’ he breathes heavily. ‘I’ll remind you of who you belong to.’

My mouth opens as I feel the pressure build. He steals my breath with his choke hold, cutting off my air supply in totality.

To trust him with the very thing I need to live is beyond reckless. It’s idiotic and stupid.

But in this moment… I don’t give a shit.

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