Filthy Rich Fae

Chapter Twenty-Eight

I paced the length of our quarters, trying to decide if I should just go to bed, even though I knew I’d never be able to sleep. Not until he came back, preferably not covered in blood—his or anyone else’s. I cleaned up the bloodied mess in his bathroom, wiped down the sink, and disposed of the towels he’d ruined in a hamper. I even ate the blood apple, surprised to discover an hour later that the cut on my collarbone was now a pale, fleshy pink and the fingerprint bruises on my neck had faded.

That much healing, and Lach still wasn’t back. Two hours later, I finally gave up and headed to my room. I didn’t bother turning on a light, the fire in the hearth providing enough for me to slip free of my robe and find a nightgown. After debating for what felt like an eternity, I left the door cracked. But just as I had suspected, sleep refused to claim me. I twisted, shoving down the sheets that ensnared my legs, and stared at that open door. Listening for his footfalls, hopeful that he would accept the invitation of that open door and terrified that I should heed his warning.

Tonight had proven two things.

Lach was as deadly as I’d always suspected.

And the world was even more fucked-up than I thought.

Maybe it was that second realization that canceled out any hesitation over the first, but I wasn’t sure I could fight this anymore.

I considered finding Ciara to talk this out. I was too stuck in the middle of it to see which way to go. The entire day had given me whiplash. It felt like a lifetime had passed since I’d woken up this morning, hungover and embarrassed. And now everything was different, but nothing had changed. Not entirely. Were we just hurtling toward an even bigger mistake?

Time was running out. He had reminded me of that this afternoon. I had less than three weeks left to figure things out, or the bargain would be permanent. I didn’t know if letting him in would doom me or save me, but I wasn’t sure I had any other choice. Because one thing was abundantly clear. My entire body warmed, an ache growing between my legs, as I remembered just how clear he had made it. And then in the bathroom…

There was no ambrosia to blame. I was alert after the attack. My head was entirely clear. At least as clear as it could be with the memory of how hard and hot he’d been in my hands—that I remembered very, very distinctly. And I was tired of waiting on him to come home.

I curled my fingers around the pendant just like I had done around his cock and let my right hand drift to that hollow ache between my legs.

It wasn’t an invitation. It was a challenge.

It took approximately five seconds for Lach to appear at the foot of the four-poster bed.

Was I counting?

He stood at a distance, offering little more than glimpses of his silhouette, but I detected no new bloodstains. His guns were gone, his holster left behind. I bit my lip, wondering if I’d missed him coming in. If he had ignored my open door.

He didn’t move from where he stood. Firelight danced across him, casting sparks of red in his blue-black hair. His eyes fixed on the sheets wrapped around my ankles, at my spread legs and the hand between them. We had crossed a line earlier.

Now, I was invading.

My fingers stilled as his gaze narrowed, riveted to them. Lach prowled forward, never looking away, the dark his natural habitat. No hesitation. No uncertainty. I braced myself for him to pounce, but he stopped and planted both of his hands on the footboard. He dragged his glazed eyes from the hand between my legs to my face. “Don’t stop.”

The command lacing his words sent a surge of arousal slicking my fingertips. I didn’t move. I was pretty sure I didn’t have to. I could probably climax with one word from him.

He gave me three. Each clipped and punctuated by his perfect lips. “Touch yourself, princess.”

I shifted in the bed, eyes rolling slightly, and released the pendant.

“Don’t.” He shook his head, nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply. “I want to hear every filthy thought in that beautiful, fucked-up mind of yours.”

My breath caught, my body completely at the mercy of that sinful voice, half growl, half promise. I wanted him on top of me, wanted to feel the weight of him, wanted him to fill that ragged, gnawing hunger that grew more demanding with each passing second.

“Show me how you want me.” Something desperate edged his words, matching the need I felt.

I was powerless to resist. I dipped my hand lower, sliding a finger inside myself, followed by another, and pumped slowly. I thrust deeper with each stroke, imagining it was his cock, near ready to beg until it was. My hips rose as I rode my fingers harder until my skin was tight and my eyes clenched.

“Eyes on me, princess.”

They snapped open and found his peering back, wrenching a moan from my lips. A crack split the air, and my eyes dipped to find his white-knuckled hands clutching the broken footboard. I knew that when those hands were finally on me, no part of me would be left untouched. He would own my body as surely as he owned my soul. And I would let him, if only to see his masterful restraint slip, crumble, dissolve entirely.

A dark chuckle reminded me that he was privy to my thoughts, so I let my mind fill with every dirty fantasy I’d ever had. Now all starring him. Teeth and tongues and sweat and skin. I writhed on my fingers as I imagined riding him, never taking my eyes off him as he claimed me without a single touch. My body arched as I splintered like the ruined bed, his name spilling in moans from my lips. I wrung out the last shattering pleasure as he watched, and when I finally sagged in a boneless heap against the pillow, he started toward me.

Lach circled the bed, taking his time as his eyes skimmed over me and lingered on the bunched nightgown at my hips, on the release glistening on my skin. He paused just short of the bed. “Thanks for the show.”

The ownership in his voice should have disgusted me. It should have turned me off.

It did not.

He leaned over me, and I sucked in a sharp breath, my lips parting for a kiss that didn’t come. He took my hand, eyes capturing mine as he brought my fingers, still soaked with my climax, to his mouth. His tongue curled around them and sucked. It swirled and licked, as if he refused to waste a single drop. The world stopped and re-centered on him. There was only him. He occupied every atom of my being. He owned me. And when he finally pulled away, only to bring his face to mine, air hitched in my throat.

He didn’t kiss me.

“Good night, Cate.”

He was halfway to the door before I’d pushed up in bed and demanded, “Where are you going?”

But Lach raked one lingering, longing look from my mouth to my bare thighs. “Back to the meeting I was in when you interrupted me.”

I should ask him to stay. He waited by the door as if he thought I might. I wanted to, but something silenced me. I didn’t know if it was pride or self-preservation. I tamped down on my confusion, not allowing it to turn into something sour. I yanked the sheets up with a shrug and tried to master a simple “good night.” All I managed was a nod.

As he slipped out the door, a new ache began in a place far more dangerous than before.

…

The next morning, I left my bedroom for breakfast, grateful that Lach’s door was still closed. Ciara accosted me in the foyer, grabbing hold of me. Thankfully, my wounds had been entirely healed when I woke up this morning, because she dragged me into a hug so tight I thought my spine might actually crack.

Ciara clutched my shoulders as she released me, worry lining her beautiful face. “Are you okay?”

I pinned a smile to my lips. “I’m fine. It was nothing.”

“Cate, you saved someone’s life at Alouette, and then two redcaps tried to back-alley Jack the Ripper you.” She shook her head. “You are not fine.”

There was no way I could tell her that of all the things that had happened last night, the redcap attack had shaken me the least.

“Really, I’m good.”

Her lips pursed, and I knew she wasn’t buying it. “Did Lach take care of you at least?”

Not exactly. I flushed slightly but nodded. “He gave me a gun.”

That was all she needed to know.

Ciara rolled her eyes and looped her arm through mine. “Of course he did.”

But she looked a little relieved all the same.

She chattered absently as we headed to the hotel brunch, her babbling a sign that she was as shaken by last night’s events as I should be. She didn’t release me until we were safely down the stairs without incident.

The breakfast room was already full of visiting fae. My heart stumbled when I saw Lach among them, deep in conversation with Bain and another male I didn’t know. Lach didn’t look up as I entered, and I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of being the first one to approach after last night.

“Want something to eat?” Ciara asked, oblivious to the fact that I was staring at her brother.

The fifty-seat oak trestle table was laid with bone china and gold flatware. Knowing how filthy rich the fae were, it was probably real. A buffet of sorts had been laid on a smaller table by the arched windows overlooking Waverly Avenue. No one was sitting down, and as usual, no one was eating. Maybe never getting full meant never feeling hungry. That wasn’t a problem I had. After last night’s emotional roller coaster, I was starving. I took one look at the plates of croissants and pastries, little bowls of butter and jams, and the steaming chafing dishes next to them, and my stomach growled.

“I’m starving,” Ciara said and yawned, scooping eggs and sausages onto a plate. “And then there was the whole clover drama last night.”

I plopped a smatter of cherry jam on a croissant. “The overdose?”

“Well, I guess that, too.” She piled a few beignets next to the eggs.

I reached for a napkin. “What clover drama happened?”

“Lach didn’t tell you?”

“I haven’t spoken to him this morning.” I twisted off a piece of croissant and popped it into my mouth. Any time before sunrise was technically night, according to the terms of the bargain.

She paused and studied me. “I thought he went to talk to you.”

I almost choked. I covered it with a cough. “Why would you think that?”

“Because he just vanished in the middle of an argument with the heads of the other families.” She shrugged, her eyes darting to my necklace, an eyebrow raised. “I figured you had summoned him.”

I turned to get some eggs, hoping my flush wasn’t too obvious. That was the meeting he had been in.

“I can’t think of anyone else he would do that for.” She shifted closer and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “And since he showed up to the meeting absolutely drenched in your perfume, I thought maybe…” She was baiting me.

“He was covered in blood. I was just helping him clean up.”

“And his pants were unzipped because…?”

That was harder to explain.

A change of subject was in order. “He didn’t mention anything about clover.”

But Ciara’s triumphant smile was blinding. “I knew he was with you.” She whooped. “Don’t worry. I do not want details, but I was beginning to think you two would never—”

“We didn’t,” I cut her off before she started planning our wedding. Her face fell a little, and I seized my chance to get her back on track. “What exactly was such an emergency, anyway, that he was in a meeting all night?”

She moved closer, her eyes darting around us like she didn’t want to be overheard. “He ordered our entire inventory of clover destroyed and called our men to seize any supply they knew about in the city, including our personal supply at the hotel and what we’d sent to the other courts in their welcome baskets. He’d just given the order when he realized you were being attacked.”

My hands were trembling so hard that I thought I might drop the plate. Lach had left the club and immediately done the last thing I’d expected him to do. He had actually pulled clover from the streets. “He didn’t tell me.”

“He was a lot more worried about you.” She had that wedding-planning face on again.

“Yeah.” I rolled my eyes. “He was so concerned that he left to go to a business meeting.” Twice.

“Bain had a tantrum when they came for his supply and demanded to see our family to call off the engagement. He summoned Oberon and Aurora to witness it all.”

My mouth fell open, and I hastily shut it. Why were we talking about clover when that had happened? “So, did Bain end it?”

She shook her head, disappointment tipping her mouth. “No. I convinced him not to.”

I hated that Ciara’s freedom was the cost of saving lives. She bit into a beignet, sending a cloud of powdered sugar into the air, and smiled gloomily.

“I’m sorry.” I meant it.

She swallowed hard. “I do not pretend to understand my brother at all, but I think I understand why he did it.”

Before I could ask her more, I felt him.

The air around me seemed to shift, growing thicker and darker as if even magic itself responded to the tension between us. Maybe I’d mistaken that before, but I couldn’t anymore. I forced myself to continue what I was doing as he stepped behind me. Not close enough that our bodies touched, only close enough to make me wish they did.

“Did you sleep well?”

Something of the primal creature who had visited my bedroom lingered in that voice, and I turned my attention to the beignets. “I slept great. How about you?”

Next to me, Ciara was not so subtly watching the two of us, her eyes gleaming with barely repressed mischief.

I dared her to say something, but I hoped she wouldn’t.

I kept my back to him, afraid to look him in the face, afraid that maybe I had dreamed the whole thing.

“Excuse me. I think I need to talk to Titania.” Ciara winked at me as she bustled over to her friend.

Subtle.

“I was too preoccupied to sleep,” he told me.

I took a deep breath. Do not read into that. “By the clover drama?”

“That?” He shook his head. “I had far more important things on my mind.”

“Like?” I swallowed.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he stepped beside me and plucked a grape from a bunch in the fruit bowl. He crushed it between his index finger and thumb, letting its juice dribble down them before he sucked the entire thing deeply into his mouth. He licked them slightly and reached for another grape.

Okay, not a dream.

I couldn’t tear my eyes from his sensual mouth as he chewed, remembering the wet heat of his tongue on my fingers. I flushed at the dark hunger in his eyes, knowing he was recalling the same thing, and looked at my plate. I was hungrier than ever—starving, even—but none of it looked remotely appetizing anymore. Not when what I wanted to devour was standing next to me.

Lach licked his lips and frowned. “So unsatisfying after I tasted—”

I coughed loudly and cleared my throat. Time to change the subject. “So, not everyone is happy about getting rid of clover, huh?”

His smirk slid into a frown. “Bain is throwing a fit.”

I still didn’t understand why he would let his sister marry into a court he clearly hated or why they would even care how he ran his. “She mentioned that. I don’t know why he needs clover when he has ambrosia.”

“We discovered our private supply was tainted, so we had no choice but to ask the other courts for what we had given them, too. It was a precaution.”

A prudent one. I nodded.

“Bain accused us of trying to kill him and summoned the other courts to call off the engagement publicly.” The look on Lach’s face told me that he almost wished it had. “He claimed we knew the clover had been tampered with and had still given it to the rest of them.”

“You should have let him end it,” I murmured.

Lach’s mouth flattened, but he didn’t disagree with me. “His spectacle ensured that the light courts will hesitate for a long time before making any new deals with us.”

“But you asked for it back. Surely that proves you didn’t intend to harm them.”

“We didn’t tell them why.” His mouth twisted into a rueful smile. “And Bain revealing that piece of information is enough to plant doubt regarding our intentions. There’s not a lot of trust between light and shadow courts.”

There never would be until they learned to work together. But I doubted he would be receptive to this insight.

“Bain made sure the others trust the Nether Court less than ever”—he continued—“which means an alliance with the Infernal Court is even more important. Bringing them into it is a power play so he can negotiate new terms. The light courts can’t fill the clover void. Without it or ambrosia, something worse will find its way onto the streets. Bain knows we need him, and he just ensured that the light courts remain suspicious of my intentions.”

Negotiations that would drag on as they all fought for their own agendas. Too busy considering their own priorities to listen to one another—so maybe it was time for someone else to do it for them. If the crown royals wouldn’t work together, maybe others would.

I glanced at where Ciara was visiting with Titania and Sirius. Right now, she was a bargaining chip because she didn’t know how powerful she was. What about the others? “Bain should be begging to marry Ciara.”

“I think he knows she’s less than enthusiastic about the prospect.”

But if Bain was having second thoughts, maybe Ciara could get out of this. “Maybe you don’t need ambrosia.”

“There’s more at stake over this alliance than our economy,” he said darkly. Before I could press him on what, he continued with a sigh. “He postponed the banns to negotiate a handfasting instead.”

What ever happened to buying a ring and saying “I do”? The fae made everything so complicated. “Handfasting?”

“Ritual fuckery that used to mean something. Now it’s just a magical prenup. It means we’ll skip the rest of the banns. It puts our backs to the wall now that he’s in a position of power.” Lach sighed and swiped a beignet off my plate.

I swatted his hand. “Hey. Get your own.”

“Consider it compensation.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Compensation for what?”

“Coming to your aid last night.”

I knew from the way he smirked that he wasn’t talking about the redcaps.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” If he was going to play coy and spend the whole morning spewing innuendo, I would do the same. “I don’t remember you coming at all.”

An oversight I was dying to remedy.

He stepped closer and took another bite of his beignet. I was too busy watching his mouth to protest this time. “I probably won’t see you for a couple of days.”

“What?” I blurted out. “Why?”

“Ritual fuckery, remember? He’ll use the handfasting to his advantage, so we will be fighting over terms, with Oberon and Aurora mediating.” He shoved the rest of the beignet in his mouth. “There’ll be meetings until we reach an agreement everyone can live with, and Bain will do everything he can to work every clause to his advantage, which means I need to be focused to protect our interests.”

“And Ciara’s interests?”

“Do you really think so little of me?” he asked softly. “Everything I do for my court is in the interest of my family. If the court is weak, they are exposed. She is exposed. Everything I care about is exposed. Protecting what matters comes at a price, princess.” His eyes lingered, daring me to contradict him. “And no price is too great. Even personal happiness.”

His words drew a line. I had no idea what side I stood on—in my mind or his.

“Even at the cost of what I want,” he breathed, “which is why I’m going to need that necklace.”

“What?” The question shot out of me.

“Just until a new agreement is reached with the Infernal Court. You no longer need a way to reach the court every night anyway.” He paused as if waiting for an objection, but I was too dumbfounded to come up with one. “I’ve already spoken with my siblings. Someone will accompany you when you leave the court so that there are no further incidents like the redcaps or other distractions…”

Distractions like being summoned to my bed. Heat flooded my cheeks as I unfastened the necklace and held it out. “You didn’t have to come last night.”

“Princess, I will always come for you.” There was no mistaking the sinful promise in his silken voice as he took it from me. The words glided along my skin, activating every nerve, every neuron until my entire being was focused on him. “At least when you’re in danger. But for now, I can’t be distracted by how much I’d rather just be with you, and since I’m well-practiced at denying myself when it comes to you, I can do it a little longer. But I won’t be able to stay away if you let me into that filthy, beautiful mind of yours again. I won’t apologize for that, but I’d also prefer not to explain why I’m vanishing out of meetings.”

I was going to combust. I swallowed in a pitiful attempt to wet my suddenly dry mouth and tried to respond casually. “No big deal.”

“No big deal,” he echoed, nodding slightly as he leaned closer, his breath tickling my ear as his cedar-and-spice scent hit me harder than ever before. “If you’re going into the city, even with Ciara, I want you to take that gun. Purse or holster?”

Disappointment splashed in my stomach at the fact that the verbal foreplay was already over and we were back to practical concerns. “Purse, I guess.”

“That’s a shame.” His nose touched the shell of my ear, and I shivered. “I would have liked to see where you would hide a holster.”

“Maybe I’ll change my mind.” I shifted my body away and turned to face him, raising a brow. “Too bad you’ll be too busy with all that ritual fuckery to find out.”

His eyes glazed slightly, and my heart hammered at that naked desire. He raked a considering glance around the room. “Or I could just have you on that table and end their speculation once and for all. Then I wouldn’t have to explain my priorities to anyone. Not after they saw how fucking perfect you are when you come.”

I should not be so turned on by that option, but I found myself looking at the table anyway. His dark chuckle told me he was seriously considering doing just that when Roark sidled up to the buffet, giving each of us the side-eye in turn.

Lach snarled at him, but I only rolled my eyes as I picked up a new beignet, suddenly ravenous. If he could deny me, I was certainly strong enough to do the same. I smiled sweetly at Roark. “We were just finishing a negotiation.”

Lach gritted his teeth. “I think we’re far from settling anything.”

But he had come when I commanded. So, let him go to his meetings and think about me, want me, crave me, because I decided the terms of this arrangement. “We settled it last night. Or I guess I did.”

His face went utterly feral. I half expected him to pounce and make good on the table proposal.

Roark snorted, shaking his head. “If you two are going to mount each other, don’t do it near open flames.”

He might have a point.

I was already walking away, pausing to toss Lach a smirk of my own. “Enjoy your meetings.”

I didn’t bother to turn around. I didn’t need to. I knew he was watching every step I took.

Lach might think he knew the only way to deal with the clover problem, and maybe he was right about needing ties with another court. But what would happen if things went south? If Bain refused to negotiate? It was shortsighted to only think in one direction when there were other options.

I dropped my plate off at the table, trying not to blush just at the sight of it, and glanced casually over my shoulder to find him gone—already off to deal with things the only way he knew how. I might be no closer to knowing exactly what Lach wanted out of the bargain between us, but I was beginning to understand what he needed. Giving it to him wouldn’t free me, but it would free him. So, I made my way over to where Ciara was chatting with the others.

Titania scowled as I joined them, but I smiled and the sneer faltered. “Someone from your court was looking for you.” I pointed over my shoulder, trying to look as innocent as possible so she wouldn’t sense the lie.

“Who?”

“No clue.” I shrugged. “Brown hair.” Since that could be half of the Hallow Court retinue, it would buy me plenty of time to talk to the others before she gave up.

She groaned as she sauntered away. I waited until she was out of earshot before turning to the others.

Ciara’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you look like you’re plotting something?”

Because I was. I was taking a chance by involving them. “I think I have a solution to all of our problems, but I need your help.” I glanced at Sirius. “Yours, too.”

His violet eyes widened with surprise, and he looked to Ciara for instructions. She crossed her arms but finally nodded. “We’re listening.”