23. Everlong
Chapter 23
Everlong
SONGBIRD
A idan twists a small silver key into the lock at the center of a garden gate and holds it open for me. Overgrown vines have laid claim to the fence and trellis above the passage, grazing my hair as I pass, while Aidan dips his head to avoid being scratched by the twigs. The wrought iron gate clanks shut behind us, the metal groaning as the latch clicks back into place.
In the heart of the south-west gardens, a wild patch of silver-leafed bushes and tall willow trees conceals a small log cabin. The rustic building is tucked away on top of the hill, almost completely hidden, a real oasis in the middle of nowhere, untouched and protected from prying eyes. Aidan walks ahead of me, guiding me with quiet confidence, as if this place is a part of him. His sanctuary.
“Where are we?”
“Ezra and I built this cabin during my first year here.”
“It’s beautiful. For a man’s den, I mean.” I muse, and Aidan’s lips twist in a sheepish grimace.
“It hasn’t been used much, not by me, at least. And certainly not this year.”
That’s an acceptable answer, and my shoulders relax. The patio offers a wide-angle full view of the twinkling ocean, and a salty wind blows my hair back. I draw in a deep, soothing breath, tingles of nerves and excitement buzzing across my skin.
Aidan disappears inside the cabin for a few seconds and comes back with a pile of blankets and a bottle of wine.
A bed of fresh, soft leaves grows over the patio, twisting and entwining to create a cushy mattress.
Aidan sprawls a red and white tartan blanket over them and lies down, tucking his arms behind his head and staring up at the sky. “Seems like a waste not to watch the stars on a night like this.”
I hesitate. “Shouldn’t we go inside?”
“This whole meadow is enchanted. We’re safe, I promise.” He pats the empty space beside him.
Fireflies flicker in the night and in my stomach, my insides aglow as I sit next to him with my legs tucked beneath me.
He twists around to face me. “Tell me more about you, Songbird.”
My eyes dart to the empty space between us. “My life’s not so glamorous, I’m afraid. There’s not much to tell.”
Henri was always too glad to skip right to the sex part. Aidan appears determined to make this night last, and not only to steal my fake virginity, but my secrets, too. He shifts to a seated position, grows two horned-shape flowers and snaps them off the stems. He hands one over and fills it up with wine. It’s so eerie to be here with him, in this picture-perfect environment, with the sea twinkling in the distance, the stars above, and the sexiest Fae prince alive pouring me wine as though we’ve got all the time in the world.
“Where did you grow up?” he asks.
An icy aftertaste of shame stings my gut. “In the underbelly of the Winter castle. My father is one of the Winter King’s favorite political advisers.”
“Is that how he ended up selling you off to the Shadow King’s son?”
The knee-jerk impulse to defend my father rears its head. “Papa only wants the best for me.”
Aidan stops pouring and sets the bottle aside, raising his brows. “Does he truly believe Zeke is the best man for you?”
“Coming here instead of the Ice City is the best life I could hope for.”
He squints at me, deep lines appearing on his forehead at the mention of the Ice City. “I thought the reaper army didn’t force anyone to enroll?”
“They wouldn’t have forced me, per se. But it would have been considered my duty to train as a reaper. If I had been selected to spend my life in the Ice City, I wouldn’t have brought shame to my entire family by skirting my responsibilities—” My heart hammers in my chest. “Why do you insist on this…interrogation? Did you bring me here to argue, or have sex?”
“So impatient.” With a knowing grin, he dips his head down to kiss me.
I’ve got half a mind to pick a fight with him and chicken out of this all together, but the taste of his lips tames my temper. Pine and sandalwood mingle to form a woodsy, masculine scent with hints of charred honey. Just like the candies we roast over the fire to sweeten the coldest, harshest night of winter.
I can’t get enough.
My fingers tense around the makeshift glass of wine, the flower threatening to squish in my grip as I blink my eyes open.
Aidan presses his nose to mine. “I want to make love to you, Songbird.”
By the spindle… Does he want me to burn to ashes before we even start?
“Cin-cin.”
We bump the rims of the flowers together, and the silky texture of the petals brushes my lips. Pollen sweetens the wine, but the weather made it a little too hot for my taste, so I ice the pistil before doing the same to Aidan’s glass. “Here. The ice won’t melt for hours, so don’t worry about it diluting the wine.”
“Nice trick.”
I bite my bottom lip, the warm, loving expression on his face filling me with pride, as though what I just did was actually special. Maybe if I turn the tables on him, he’ll be more inclined to skip the heart-to-heart part. It’s not as if we could actually date after this.
“Who are you meant to marry? Devi?” I ask in a falsely nonchalant tone.
Aidan chuckles and shakes his head. “Never. Devi is almost sure to be her grandfather’s heir.”
“I thought that would only make your parents more eager for you two to marry.”
“You see, if Devi was to be crowned queen while I was married to her, it would destroy my chances to inherit the Summer crown.”
“Why?”
He sets his wine to the ground. “It’s a well-kept secret, but the seven crowns would actually kill for two kingdoms not to fall under the control of a married couple. It would put too much power into one family’s hands.”
“Oh.”
“You have no reason to be jealous.” He caresses my bare knee.
“I’d be jealous of any woman you’d be free to marry,” I deadpan, the statement crawling out of some dark, bottomless trench inside my heart.
His throat bobs. “Yeah?”
“Yes.”
The rest of my defenses shatter as I slip my arms around his neck and lean forward, caressing his hairline with my free hand. “I dreamed about you—when I was in the new world. I couldn’t quite make up my mind to be good and stay away from you.”
“Never settle for good, Songbird. You deserve more .” He dives in for a kiss, and the brush of our tongues is the most erotic thing I’ve ever felt. I spread my legs to make space for him and discard the wine to the side, his grip on my waist making my belly clench and my nipples harden.
“I dreamed about you, too. Every night. It nearly consumed me.” Aidan drags his thumb over my pointy ear. His fingertips linger on the angle of my jaw, and in this small, careful touch, I get a glimpse of the extent of his greediness. “I want to learn every detail there is to know about you. Touch every inch of your skin. Own every bit of your soul. I want to play with your body until it craves me and me alone.”
I quake under the decadence of his desire, his words spreading through my body like bottled sin, my rational mind checking off completely. The chorus of only one night slips away, banished to some dusty dungeon at the back of my mind.
“Tell me about your heart, Songbird. What does it sing for? Do you want me to worship you, or do you prefer to be ravished? Should I make you beg for your release, or spoil you with more pleasure than you can stand?”
“All of it,” I gasp. “Make me burn .”
He smiles like my answer is even more perfect than I knew.
Fire and ice. Ice and fire.
Kissing, gripping, clawing each other closer. I unbutton and tug the vest off his broad shoulders, then his shirt. Running a hand down the grooves of his smooth, naked back, my heart cries out in bliss. Finally.
“I will drive you mad with pleasure until you agree to be mine.” He combs my hair to the side and pecks the tender skin of my neck as he undoes the hook-and-eye closures at the back of my dress, one by one, until he manages to slip it over my head.
“So cocky.”
“Is that doubt I hear?” He shifts on top of me. “I’ll keep count, then. Past ten, you’ll have to yield, right?”
Ten?
The weight of him steals a heavy groan from my lips. “Concentrate on one, alright?” I quip.
His answering gaze is so filthy and dissolute that I almost believe him, his pride clearly rising to the challenge.
Our bodies are like long-lost puzzle pieces, moving in tandem. I scrape his ass under the hem of his trousers, and he reaches behind me to unclasp my satin bra.
My breasts bounce free, and I shiver, moving to cover myself, but Aidan discards the ivory piece of fabric to the side, his nostrils flaring, his hooded eyes dipping to the heavy, sensitive flesh.
I shudder all over, feeling more beautiful than Eros herself as he traces the swell of my breast with his thumb. The pad of it is as hot as melted wax, and I hum when he drags it over the chilled, pebbled peak. My back arches, the contrast between his fire and my wintry skin almost painful, but not quite. I need more.
“If I’m too much, too rough, too ardent …” he says with humor. “Just tell me,” he whispers against my skin.
“Duly noted.” I reach for the top of his trousers, but he shakes his head.
“Not yet.”
I bite my bottom lip and stroke him over the fabric, my insides hot and slick as I take in the shape of him.
A dark glint burns in his gaze, but he pins my hands above my head. “I said not yet.”
Two bare vines grow out of the ground and shackle my arms in place, their rough bark scraping the underside of my wrists. I tuck my tongue behind my front teeth and offer my lover a provocative smile. “You’re bossy, too. I kind of like it.”
He chuckles at that, the sound soft and enchanting, as he mirrors my own words back to me. “Duly noted.”
I stretch out my neck to lick the freckles under his jaw, absolutely entranced by the sight of him hovering above me as he slides a hand down my stomach, under the lace, and over my sensitive spot.
“Blessed Flame. You’re already soaked. Keep your legs spread for me. Let me see all of you.”
I want to drag my nose down the hollow between his pecs, trace the muscles and indentation toning his arms, and kiss the maroon birthmark peaking above the hem of his pants.
He peels off my underwear impossibly slowly, caressing my legs up and down. His hands paint a trail of fire on my skin, a warm, scarlet glow left in their wake. His lips engrave sinful praises in my skin, his hot mouth teasing, nibbling, feasting on me until I’m writhing. Marking my neck, my breasts, my belly, my soul.
And I feel like a goddess being worshipped by her king.
Aidan tortures me with delicate, scandalous bruises that will brand me for weeks to come, and the process spurs me on like nothing else, the sweet pressure between my thighs exploding outward as he finally grazes my entrance with his hand.
He sinks one finger inside me, then two, his other palm pressed flat to my belly, grounding my hips to the homemade mattress. I shudder as he dips his head to lick my throbbing flesh, my body ripe for an orgasm that wrecks my chances of keeping his ego his check.
“One,” he grins. “And easy, too.”
“You’re so cocky. I should leave just to spite you.”
“Maybe, but you won’t.”
No, I won’t.
He’s too good at this, and it’s infuriating .
Aidan is not content with this first, easy victory and uses my orgasm as a preamble for the next, getting comfortable between my thighs. With a satisfied smirk, he kneads the smooth skin of my thighs and ass until the sensitive ache ebbs. I tuck my bottom lip between my teeth, flustered to find out I’m simply starving for more.
Aidan plays wicked games with his tongue until violent, liberating tremors melt a frozen river inside me, my pleasure gushing out around his fingers. “Two,” the cocky prince hums against my core, drinking it in.
I ice the vines holding my wrists to reach for him, my nails sinking deep in his shoulder. By the spindle.
A surprised groan quakes my throat, and I almost apologize for the mess, but Aidan looks so damn pleased and horny, I figure he meant for it to happen. He slips out of his trousers, not wearing anything underneath, and I let out a lust-filled pant.
“I need you to touch me, Songbird,” he groans quietly. His abs clench as he guides my hand to his cock. “I need to be inside you.”
He’s hard as steel and so, so thick.
I run my fingers from the base to the tip, and his hips jerk forward. “Fuck.”
“Come here.” I spread my legs in invitation, and he sinks down on top of me, our chests bumping in a delicious friction as he lines himself with my entrance.
His previous caress teased and prodded at a hollowness in my belly that’s now wild and insatiable, aching for him. I hold my breath as he pushes all the way in, the delicious stretch almost holy. Our foreheads rest against one another, my body adjusting to his size.
I rock my hips, hungry for him to strive for number three, and scratch deep lines into his back, as eager to brand him as he did me, staking my claim.
“Blessed Flame, you’re not making it easy for me to go slow.”
One corner of my mouth lifts as I graze his chin. “I didn’t ask for slow.”
He exhales and darts his tongue out to touch my lips. “Your wish is my command, Songbird.”
Aidan fucks me as though he’s starving for me body, mind, and soul, and I love every moment of it, gazing up at him, his silhouette framed by a black, endless sky. The chafe of the blanket warms my ass in a maddening, delectable way.
His mood shifts, his control peeled away layer by layer, switching from the measured thrusts of a patient, dedicated lover to a greedy, famished beast. “You’re so wet and tight.” He buries himself deeper with a long, possessive thrust. “I’m going to spend days inside you. Paint every inch of your beautiful body with my come until you agree to be mine.”
He’s so turned on by what we’re doing that he can’t quite keep control, flirting with the spiral of a quick, abrupt climax judging by the enraptured look on his face. He holds my legs at the exact angle he craves, and I tighten my walls around him.
“Oh, flaming hell.” He moans darkly, slowing down the pace and palming my ass as if he means to punish me for the intensity of his pleasure. But as he tries to hold off his climax, he hits the same secret spot, over and over again.
A string of desperate whimpers tears from my throat. I can’t hold my noises in, each thrust so perfectly placed as to push me higher and higher without sending me over the edge.
“Come for me hard, Songbird. Show me how much you love my cock.”
While I loved to see him so intent on pleasuring me, I think I prefer this iteration of him. Wild, demanding, and dark.
I arch off the ground and grip a fist of his hair, his name leaving my lips in prayer, blood rushing from my center to my thighs and spreading all the way down to my toes. My walls pulse in rash, powerful waves, so hard I bite down on my tongue. As if my body means to keep him there forever, or crush him, or both.
“How are you even— That’s insane… Fuck-Fuck-Fuck. I can’t?—”
He slams his hips forward and fills me with his seed, his head falling on my chest.
He gives an almost apologetic grunt as he falls to his side next to me. “By the Flame… how did you ensnare me so tightly?”
I take it as a post-climax, rhetorical question, and abandon myself to his embrace.
With Henri, sex was almost a race to the end, meant to reach a point where we felt satisfied enough to put our clothes back on and go on with our day, but Aidan was not kidding when he said he wanted my body to become addicted to him. The self-consciousness I expected to feel now that we’ve given in to our most basic instincts and said a bunch of embarrassing nonsense is nowhere to be found, and I close my eyes, feeling perfectly comfortable.
With him. With my body. Safe. Satisfied. Happy.
Loved, even.
Aidan rubs my back up and down a few times before dipping below my waist to caress my ass, softly kneading the flesh as he places butterfly kisses on my shoulder blades. “You’re perfect, Songbird. I’m simply obsessed with you.”
“You’re not so bad yourself, Wonder Boy.”
“Say that again.”
I bite my bottom lip to keep from giggling. “I kind of like you, too, Wonder Boy ,” I repeat in a sultry drawl.
He groans against the back of my ear and pulls on my knee, guiding my left leg across his body before dragging his hand between my thighs. The scents of our sweaty bodies have mixed to form a new, entirely different scent that rekindles the blaze in my belly.
“Mm,” I coo, my body spent and yet incredibly pleased with his attentions, as though he activated some kind of never-ending loop. “You’re being greedy, now.”
“Do you want me to stop?” he grins, curling a finger to stroke my insides.
I claw his arm to keep it in place. “Nuh-uh.” My body coils in a fourth, almost immediate release, soaking the blanket underneath us as I bite the back of my free hand to muffle a scream.
“Sorry,” I breathe.
“Not at all. It was glorious.”
“I meant the blanket.”
“Forget the blanket.” He pecks my lips.
“Let me see that mark.” I twist around to face him and trace the phoenix mark, caressing the burns that forever etched his skin, and my brows furrow. “Did it hurt?”
“Not that I can remember,” he breathes, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
“Look who’s talking.” I press my ear to his chest and listen to his heartbeat, indulging my fascination for the lines of his body until his eyelids flutter. His chest rises and falls as my hand wanders lower, and his cock stiffens almost immediately in my grip.
His eyes snap open. “I want you on your hands and knees. Is that okay?”
“I’m at your command, my prince,” I tease.
His lips part in surprise. The bob of his throat betrays just how much he loved that, and a gleeful smile spreads on my lips. The tip of him points at the sky, red and glistening, aching for round two.
I slide off him and roll unto my stomach, the logistics of switching positions somehow lost to his pure, devout touch. He strokes my sides and ass as though it’s an actual act of worship, and I claw at the blanket in anticipation. The angle puts him deeper, somehow, and my head falls forward as he enters me.
I’m already addicted to the rush.
Aidan doesn’t just make love to me for a second time. He doesn’t just fuck my brains out. He takes ownership of my body in ways that melt me from the inside out, effortlessly mixing hot, filthy commands with sweet, enamored promises, and blinding, carefree fun. I never thought sex could be all those things at once, but here I am, eager to both please my prince and make him beg. Both teasing him for his confidence and blushing at his guile.
I give him the words he craves and agree to be his. The hushed pieces of forever will no doubt be smashed to dust in the morning, but they sound so real by moonlight. Crazy thing is, even though they’re not true, they’re no longer a lie, either.
Another loophole in the Fae can’t lie rule. I want to belong to Aidan, and he wants to belong to me, and for now, that’s enough.
And I will remember every minute of this terribly beautiful night until the reaper comes for me.