Filthy Rich Fae

Chapter Thirty-Three

I didn’t have to ask twice.

Lach captured my mouth, a rough hand cradling one cheek, the other wrapping around my neck as though now that he had me, he wasn’t letting go. This kiss was different. He clearly had been holding back before. And I gave in to his lips, to the ravaging sweep of his tongue over mine, to the urgency building between us.

His body was hard against mine, and I sank my fingers into his broad, muscled shoulders, urging him closer. With his mouth on mine, I couldn’t remember why I had ever resisted him before, why I had ever thought this was wrong when it was so very right.

Lach’s hands released my face to grip my hips, sliding lower to cup my ass and lift me off my feet, my legs circling around his waist as the kiss deepened. I was dimly aware of a spinning sensation that I thought was in my head until my back collided with glass. Its coolness made me wince.

He paused. “Do you want to stop?”

I knew he would stop despite the palpable need burning in his eyes. He would end this the minute I asked. I nipped his lower lip with my teeth and pinned him with a lingering look. “I don’t want to stop.”

He licked that lip like he was savoring the sting of my bite. I was going to devour him.

“Or we can lose the window?” he offered.

“I don’t care as long as we start losing clothes,” I snapped, earning a rough laugh. He pressed me harder against the window, his hips pinning me to it so his hands could join the fun. I moaned into his mouth, my palms splaying against the window, which provided a means to buck against him and discover he was rock fucking hard. I whimpered despite the layers of clothing between us and dragged myself along his impressive length.

He chuckled. “I thought you wanted me to take you to bed.”

“Too far.” I began unbuttoning his shirt.

His jaw worked, eyes darkening as my hands slipped under the fabric to run over his chiseled pecs before I peeled the shirt off entirely. “If you aren’t careful, I’m going to fuck you right here.”

“Here’s good.” I licked a whirling tattoo on his neck, earning a growl that sent heat pooling in my core. I was through fighting this, and I couldn’t wait a minute longer.

His face dipped as he explored my neck with his lips, followed by his teeth and tongue, moving lower to my collarbone until I arched, pushing off the window to offer my breasts. Lach lowered the straps of my gown off my shoulders to free my breasts, and my nipples beaded in the cool night, the only signal that the magical warmth from earlier had faded. I was too on fire to care.

“Fucking perfect,” he murmured and closed his mouth over one. A cry escaped me as his tongue flicked its tip before he began to lick and suck, my fingers fisting his hair as he feasted on me. With a low growl, he lifted bright eyes to mine. “I need more.”

Before I could tell him that he could have everything, he’d lowered me to my feet and dropped to his knees before me, unbothered by the stone floor. Pushing aside the skirt’s center panel of fabric, he groaned when he discovered my lack of panties. Earlier, I’d bemoaned the fact the dress didn’t allow me to wear them. With Lach kneeling between my legs, looking utterly feral, I wondered if I’d bother to wear them ever again. The tattoos on his torso shifted slowly as he drank me in, deciding what to do with me.

“Spread your legs for me, princess.” The roughness of the command scraped along my senses until I couldn’t quite remember how to breathe, but I bit my lip and did as he asked. He finally looked up at me as he slid a finger along my seam, his mouth curling into a smirk at the wetness he found. “I can’t stop thinking about how you taste.” His tongue licked over his lower lip, and I whimpered. “You have no idea how hard it’s been to keep my mouth off of you, how much I’ve wanted to feast on you.”

I sucked in a shaky breath. “Buffet is open.”

He grinned, plunging that finger inside of me so deeply that my body bowed off the window. My breath caught as he continued to pump, our gazes locking until his drifted down to watch his finger. I followed, choking back a sob of pleasure as I took in the dark fae prince at my feet, his hand between my legs, his lips so close that his breath whispered over my feverish skin. The finger disappeared, and I cried out in objection.

“Don’t worry,” he purred, his fingers splitting my seam and urging me open wider. “I’m going to take care of you.”

And then Lach lowered his mouth and dragged his tongue up in one searing stroke. My knees buckled, my hands plastered against the glass to stay upright. Wicked eyes glinted up at me, his mouth disappearing entirely as his tongue speared me, claimed me, devoured me. He didn’t slow when I began to shake, undone by the sight of him as much as his talented tongue. Instead, his arms hooked my thighs, and he yanked me closer, sucking and licking and consuming until my limbs tightened and I stopped caring about staying upright and gave in to him entirely.

An ache burst through me, splintering and dividing as he coaxed every last drop of pleasure he could. When I finally sagged, boneless and panting against the window, Lach pressed a kiss to me, and I yelped, still tender and sensitive.

He stood, his tongue sweeping the corners of his mouth, his eyes glittering like the night sky above us. “You belong in the Otherworld, princess, because I will never have my fill of you.”

And I understood, because my body was ready again, craving him despite the toe-curling orgasm he’d just given me. My hand reached for the buckle of his belt, and his smile widened as he let me unfasten it.

“Has the bed offer been fully rescinded?”

“We’re getting there.” I freed his cock with a saucy grin of my own and bent to take him in my mouth.

Lach cursed as my lips closed over him, his fingers gripping my hair so tightly that my scalp hurt. “Don’t rush,” he said through gritted teeth as I circled his tip with my tongue. I lifted my eyes to him as I took him deep in my mouth. “Fuck. On second thought.”

A moment later, I was in his arms. Gold shimmered around us, and then we were in his quarters at the Avalon. We only made it as far as the living room rug. Lach laid me across it and waved a hand at the hearth. A fire blazed to life, and I watched its light dance across him as he kicked off his shoes and reached for his pants. My heart pounded at the sight of his naked body, at the tattoos that covered him but didn’t flash and change, as if his mind was finally completely quiet and he was acting purely on instinct. I’d had him in my mouth, but seeing him…his muscled form, the cock jutting out and ready, had me reaching for the zipper of my gown.

Lach was faster. He tore it clean down the front. “I’ll get you a new one.”

Apparently, panties weren’t the only thing the fae liked to rip off. His mouth found mine as it fell away, and my skin sang as it met his, every nerve firing and throbbing where we touched. His fingers skimmed between my breasts, circling my nipples and pausing to flick them with a masculine grunt of satisfaction before they descended lower and he pushed two inside me, moving them slowly in and out, preparing me.

“Should I…?” He paused, his eyes meeting mine in question.

I could barely think with him touching me, barely process anything but the overwhelming need to have him buried inside me. But I knew what he was asking. “I’m on the pill.”

“Thank the gods,” he muttered, pulling his hand back and slicking himself with my wetness before moving between my thighs.

I wrapped my legs around him, gasping as his cock nudged against me. He paused, bringing his eyes to mine before sliding inch by glorious inch inside me. I arched into him, hooking my arms around his neck and welcoming him deeper.

Lach snarled his approval as he began to thrust slowly. “You feel even better than I fucking imagined.”

His words sent a thrill shooting through me. Not because he’d hidden his desire—no, he’d been blunt about that for weeks—but because I felt it in his touch, saw it reflected in the way his eyes pierced straight through me.

“Kiss me,” I whispered, nearly breathless as he thrust slowly in and out, each stroke deeper than the one before.

“You only have to ask.” His mouth angled over mine, claiming my lips as he claimed my body in a steady, punishing rhythm. I’d never been with someone like this, so wholly that the entire world fell away and there was only him and us and nothing else mattered.

Lach’s hand slid under me, holding me against him as he shifted back onto his heels until I was seated on top of him. His first thrust hit so deeply that stars wheeled in my vision, and a moan of pleasure broke free. He growled at the sound and unleashed himself, pounding into me as pleasure twisted my body into a knot, each stroke coiling me tighter and tighter until I unraveled around him. He buried his face in my neck and followed me, his hips thrusting up as he emptied inside me.

We collapsed into a pile of sweaty limbs, arms and legs and bodies still entwined. “That was…”

He kissed my forehead. Answer enough.

I snuggled against him, shivering slightly as my sweaty body cooled. His eyes narrowed, and he frowned. “You’re cold.”

“I’m perfect,” I murmured dreamily. I never wanted this moment to end. Mostly because it was perfect, too. But also because I had no clue what happened next. It was exhilarating and terrifying, but in his arms, it didn’t seem as scary.

For a few minutes, I lay there, tracing his tattoos with utter fascination. Lach detangled himself from me and pushed onto his feet. I was about to protest his sudden absence when he scooped me into his arms. He carried me to my room, laying me across the bed before disappearing into my closet, and I sprawled across the sheets, still shivering but hardly caring. Lach reappeared with a silk robe. He beckoned me to sit up. I groaned and pushed myself up, my languid limbs resisting the request for movement. He chuckled softly as he helped me into it and cinched the sash at my waist.

I climbed back into the bed, burrowing under the covers, but he remained standing.

“Stay,” I said softly.

He hesitated.

“Unless I wore you out,” I added dryly.

He snorted. “You just let me know when you’re ready. I can go all night.”

All night? I might test him on that.

Lach circled the bed, slipping in beside me. He rolled on his side, and I followed suit. For a moment, we just stared at each other, our hands creeping closer until his fingers swept over mine. His thumb paused on my ring. “Should I be jealous of whoever gave you this? You wear it all the time.”

It was a tentative, guarded question, but something more than curiosity laced it.

“Nope. Unless you find dead women intimidating.”

“Actually…” He flashed me a smile.

“It was my mother’s. It’s all I have from her. Gran told me to never take it off. The woman who took me in when I was a teen,” I explained at his questioning look. “Other than Channing, she’s the closest thing I ever had to a family. I kept it hidden in a bag before I came to live with her, but I think she knew I needed to finally feel safe enough to wear it. It’s hard to explain.”

“It wasn’t safe to wear it?”

Another careful question. I took a deep breath, wondering if I wanted to wade into such deep waters tonight. But Lach had opened up to me. He had trusted me. He’d earned the same. “Before Gran, I’d been placed in a lot of homes. Once I hit my teens, I started staying out, getting into trouble, and it got harder to find someone who would take me. But somehow they found another family who was willing. They seemed completely perfect when I moved in.” I drew a shuddering breath as unwanted memories resurfaced. Lach went very still, and I forced myself to continue. “I’d been in some rough situations before, but there was something about him that creeped me out. I thought if I just caused some more trouble, they would send me away like everyone else did. But when they found out, he decided to show me what happened to girls like me. He said I was asking for it. His wife found me after, begged me not to tell, but I told a teacher the next day. She didn’t believe me, but she had to report it. They removed me to investigate and discovered the woman had covered up her husband’s past.”

Lach’s breath sawed out of him, his eyes blazing. “What happened to him?”

“He went to jail for a while. He got out a couple of years ago. They felt the need to inform me.” My voice cracked a little, and Lach pressed a hand to the side of my face, solid and reassuring.

“I’ll kill him.”

I knew he meant it. I swallowed, waiting to feel fear or resistance, but I felt nothing. I shook my head. “I made peace with it a long time ago.” I had, but I’d never been the same. I bit down on my trembling lower lip before forcing my eyes to meet his. “No one in my life knows. Not Channing. No one. I don’t want it to define me.”

He remained silent for a moment, and I surged ahead, sniffing a little. “My case worker told Gran what had happened when they called to find a new placement for me. She made them bring me straight away. When I arrived, she took one look at me with such understanding. Later that night, she showed me to my own room with my own dresser. She tried to help me put my things away, but…that just felt too permanent. But something made me trust her—I think she might have been the first person I ever trusted—and eventually I showed her the ring. This one small thing I had left of my parents. Someone had taken it from the scene of the accident and sent it to the hospital with me.” I swallowed. “Gran said I could choose to see it as a reminder of what I’d lost or proof that I had survived. I knew she wasn’t just talking about the accident. And I decided to wear it.”

A single tear slipped down my cheek. Lach caught it with his thumb, and I forced a smile that felt too fragile to trust with anyone but him.

“After that, I stopped getting in trouble, scared that I would get sent somewhere new, somewhere that I wasn’t safe. Then Channing showed up and turned our world upside down, but it almost felt like having a family. I focused on school and got a scholarship. I spent my first two years of college reclaiming my body, deciding who I wanted to share it with.” I paused. “That probably sounds stupid.”

“Not at all,” he said softly. “I’m honored you told me.”

I scrunched up my nose. “Did I kill the mood?”

“No. You did not. I guessed, but knowing…” He stroked a thumb across my cheek and up to wipe away another tear. “I want to know if I cross a line.”

I turned my face into his touch, kissing the palm of his hand and finding it salty with my tears. “I will, and you haven’t.” I meant it. I drew a deep breath. We were teetering on the edge of something serious again—something that required me to trust him no matter how much it scared me. “I feel safe with you.”

He tensed. “You are, even if we met in unconventional circumstances.”

That was putting it mildly.

His eyes lifted, the smile on his face so boyish that it stole my breath. He had never looked this unguarded, this vulnerable. A hand cupped my cheek, his thumb stroking my skin and igniting a different fire inside me. “That night you showed up here and demanded to give your life for your brother’s, I think I wanted to help you. Help you in a way I sensed no one ever had, and I knew they hadn’t, because I had lived so long in the same position. But you weren’t afraid to cry, to show how much you fucking cared. You just let all of it show—your heart, your soul—and it was beautiful. I thought I was just listening to an Equinox request.” He chuckled as if the idea was ridiculous to him now. “You drove me so out of control, I nearly forgot that sometimes. And then, at the Midnight Feast, you were drunk on ambrosia, and I wanted you so badly.”

I frowned at the memory of being dropped onto the floor—albeit at my own demand. “Could have fooled me.”

“Believe me, not taking you to bed that night was pure torture. I’d rather be shot again.” I preened a little, and he rolled his eyes. “Does the thought of me preferring agonizing pain to saying no to you please you, princess?”

“A little,” I admitted. “I thought you hated me.”

“That was a mutual concern, I believe. But no, I could never hate you. You infuriate me and you challenge me and you make me…” He paused and looked me in the eyes. “It was never a fool’s bargain between us, but making it was selfish. I wish I could tell you that I did it entirely for you, but I didn’t.”

Somehow, I’d always known that. Always known that I would never be free of him. I just hadn’t expected that a day would come when I wouldn’t want to be freed.

“And now?”

“I like you more than I planned. But the bargain between us…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “It needs to be broken.”

I reached for him, tilting his face up to meet mine. “Don’t. I don’t want you to break it.”

His eyes closed, shuttering against my words. “And if I don’t, will you ever truly believe this is real between us?”

“What about what you get out of the bargain?” I asked, holding my breath, wondering if he would finally share all of his secrets. “What you wanted from me when you made it?”

“I want you more.” His lips skimmed along my jawline. “I won’t steal a night from you, not when I want you to give them all to me.”

My words jammed in my throat. This was what I’d wanted from the beginning—to be free of the bargain. But somewhere along the line, I’d begun to want him more. I swallowed and swung my leg over his body, rocking myself over his hardening cock. “You can have them,” I whispered, “and you can have me.”

I untied my robe, letting the sash flutter to my hips. He reared up, capturing my nipple between his teeth as I ground against him. His hands shucked the robe from my shoulders, a mischievous gleam in his eyes when he grabbed the sash.

“I’m never letting you go,” he warned me, wrapping the fabric around my wrists—a different, darker sort of handfasting, one meant only for us. “Bargain or not.” He looped the sash around his wrist and yanked me closer, his lips brushing over mine.

His eyes hooded as he reached between us with his free hand to aim his cock. An aching need spread—permeating my blood, burrowing into my bones, soaking into my skin, into every inch of me—and narrowed as his tip breached me. I bit my lip as I sank over him, moaning at the way he stretched me. It was nearly too much, and when he was sheathed so deeply that I wasn’t sure where I ended and he began, he lowered us back to the bed, still holding my tethered hands.

“I’m never letting you go,” he whispered again and thrust his hips up, over and over as if he could seal the words physically. I cried out, meeting his demanding rhythm, need swelling into a near frenzy inside me. A guttural snarl tore from his chest, primal and animalistic, and he flipped us over, drawing my bound hands over my head and slipping his beneath the binds of the sash to twine his fingers with mine. He angled his hips to drive deeper, his lips on mine, tongue spearing into my mouth as though he needed to claim more of me.

I wanted everything he had to give. Pressure mounted in my core, and I was gasping against his lips as it built and built, tiny shivers of what was to come splintering through my veins even as I continued to rise.

“Come with me,” he urged. His bright eyes riveted to mine, breathing hard and fast.

Pleasure burst through me, radiating through my body like sunlight breaking through the clouds. His hand tightened around mine as he shouted my name, tensing and spilling inside me.

My legs, boneless and trembling, slackened and dropped from his waist, but he didn’t roll off me. His forehead pressed to mine, and he brushed his lips over mine. The kiss, so sweet and soft after our frantic lovemaking, sent a new and unfamiliar pang through my chest. The hand holding mine relaxed, and he slipped it free of the sash before loosening my makeshift binding.

“What happened to never letting me go?” I asked breathlessly, half wanting to stay under his control forever.

His mouth crooked up. “I hadn’t meant it quite so literally.” That fucking smile… Devastating. “Although I could be convinced to tie you up again.”

“I’m yours,” I whispered, meaning it. “Tie me up as you see fit.”

His grin spread, lighting up his entire face. “In that case…”