Chapter Six
H er scent and arms surround me and I find it nearly impossible to focus on anything except her.
By sheer strength of will, I manage to give enough attention to my operation of the motorcycle to allow us safe travels. But it is hard as fuck.
Both the division of concentration and the bulge in my pants. I don’t know that I have ever felt this heavy of a need for someone in my entire life.
I knew I was being bold when I stopped her from getting on the bike. I was actually a little more surprised that she hadn’t put up more of a fight. I could see it in her eyes. But then there was something else. A fire deep inside her that answered my own. She wanted to trust me, even though I was a stranger to her. There was even a little desire… for me .
Refusing to let it get my hopes up, I disregard the notion she might be attracted to me for more than my outward appearance. I am sure the reaction was just to my physical form and nothing to do with the pull she seems oblivious to. After all, my body is one of the many reasons I became such a prized “pet” in the fae realm.
I fight back the shudder and revulsion at the memories of my life in that realm.
The fae speak of humans as if they are monsters, and yet they still sell and trade living beings as food or toys.
I would have rather been food. Some days, I had prayed to find myself at the behest of a noble with deep pockets and hunger for something heartier than livestock. My dreams were far more bleak in those days. I never dreamed I would be where I am now.
Even in another realm, and through the last century of my life, I knew I was waiting for something. I inhale her scent deeply, wishing I could pull it around me like a cocoon. It would seem that I was not waiting for something, but rather a someone .
No. I can’t let myself believe that she would choose me. Not when she has another.
Why would anyone choose me ?
I have nothing, having fled from the fae with only the rags on my back.
Even so, I know I would give her everything she would ask of me. Everything I am . I know she is beginning to accept the connection to the half-breed. She is a powerful woman and would need a powerful mate to help her find true balance. I do not know if he can give her that, but I have seen his devotion to her, and know that he will try.
If Forsythia never acknowledges the soul-bond that exists between her and I, she will always have my devotion as well. I came out of the shadows for her. I just hope my exposure doesn’t draw the attention of any who may be hunting me. If I inadvertently put her in harm’s way, I will never forgive myself.
I am not afraid to admit that I am selfish enough though to hope that the fear of the Creatori in this realm has kept the fae out. Surely, I am not worth the trouble, even if I am a fae hybrid.
I pull myself out of my thoughts, knowing they will just spiral down a dark path that I have no interest in visiting right now, and focus on the things around me. We have been on the road for about ten minutes and Forsythia hasn’t given me any directions. I suppose I will need to find a quiet place so that we can discuss our plan of action.
The sign ahead indicates a human rest area, and I decide that is our best bet. I point to the sign, hoping she understands my intention, and hear her muffled “Okay” from behind me.
If her smell and touch weren’t bad enough, the whole clumsy dance she did when she was getting situated on the back of the bike had me grinding my teeth, and fighting through the wave of desire she brought out in me. But now? I feel her lean her forehead against my back and inhale deeply. It is an intimate act that my people–well, my imp half–do when scenting their mates. It means she’s attracted to me, and the comfortable way she wraps her arms around my torso, shows that she trusts me.
Shaking my head, I remind myself that she is not fae, and that is not how mating works in this world. I refuse to trick myself into believing that she would ever be interested in solidifying our mate bond. After all, I am “fae trash.” I do not deserve her.
I have to remember that my desires do not matter.
Fighting back my wave of pain brought on by that reminder, I pull into the exit for the rest area. She leans back, apparently having gotten her fill of my scent. I try not to let that feel like a rejection, but it’s my natural reaction, and my body visibly droops a little.
I feel like one of those sad, ugly little canine babies that humans leave in glass shops and ignore simply because they “are not their problem.” But that’s what I am. I am no one’s problem but my own, and I refuse to let myself be a problem for Forsythia.
Pulling into a parking spot, I plant my feet on either side of the machine, while shutting off the engine. I hold it steady until I feel her swing herself off. Of course, she loses balance and falls against the bike before steadying herself. I have never met such a perplexingly clumsy female in my entire life.
Perhaps the Gods gave her too much power and it causes her to be in a constant struggle for equilibrium?
Swallowing against the notion to ask her about it as she seems embarrassed every time she has an “episode.” I will try my hardest to keep anything from hurting her, even if that means keeping my own insatiable curiosity at bay.
She stands up and brushes her hands down her body and my eyes track the movement. Maybe it has something to do with her nice round ass. If we ever did bond, I hope she permits me to bite it.
Rolling my eyes I turn my head away. It seems I will be struggling with my thoughts the entire time I am assisting her. Which also means I will be going into every action with a stiff cock.
No matter. It is not as if I could hide the damned thing anyways. Although I do fear if she bites her lip again while undressing me with her eyes, a feral part of me will answer her needs. It is getting increasingly hard to resist. Maybe if I simply ignore the stiffness in my pants, she won’t pay attention to it either?
I can only hope.
What kind of man does that make me for praying the woman of his dreams does not look at his dick?
She works on unbuckling her helmet, while I flip the kickstand down to hold the bike and swing my own body off the machine. Standing next to her makes me feel like a giant. I am on the smaller side in the fae realm, especially amongst my tree dryad brethren, but here in the Earth realm I seem to stand out a little more. I think the human measurement would be something equivalent to seven feet and three inches.
We haven’t moved or spoken, but her gaze travels slowly up my body, much like it did when I first stepped out of the shadows. Her appraisal elicits a series of goosebumps that follow her perusal and I can’t fight the urge to stand straighter.
When she glances at my thighs and moves upward, it takes complete control over my body to prevent the flush from rising in my cheeks, partly due to her appreciative looks and partly due to irritation. She clearly struggles with a yearning that her mate should have fulfilled for her. Granted he has been captured, and I do not hold that against him, but his mate has been in need for many years, and the dance he made her go through with him only stoked her flame to burn even hotter.
After my servitude in the fae realm, I know that I am fully trained to help her find release. In fact, it is a scenario that has played out several times in my head, just on this travel alone. Then nearly every time when I watched her train. Every time her frustrations were like a visible shield around her. I planned out so many divine ways I could help her find the release that her body so desperately craves.
But I can’t bring myself to offer her that. I fear that it will break me.
Not that I don’t crave her, but rather that I am too broken to be an adequate lover for her. I also have no doubts that once I get my hands on her, I may never be able to stop. Actually, I know that I won’t be able to stop. I won’t want to stop being with her, touching her, showing her the emotions that she brings out in me.
Or the carnal needs she kindles inside of me.
Blake will take care of her. He is what she needs most and I have to remind myself of that. She does not need some broken male in her life. There is nothing I can give to her, that he could not better provide her with.
When she finally meets my eyes, she inhales deeply again, and I feel her magick pull in her pheromones tightly. Is it something in my eyes that makes her feel this way? I have noticed that the coloring is not as common in this realm, but the same can be said for hers.
Before I can formulate the question, she moves forward and reaches up to touch my face. My breathing stops–my heart stops, my Gods I think time stops–at the gentle touch of her silky fingertips against my cheek. In that single moment, I truly understand why felines purr. Her touch feels divine, and I bite hard on my tongue to prevent any noise that may scare her away.
“Who are you, Lucian Holt?” she asks as she drops her hand back to her side. Again, I have to bite back a groan at the loss of connection.
“I am here to help you.” I hear the gruff tone in my voice as the words leave my mouth. She gives me a lop-sided frown in response. When I offer her no more words, she tosses her hands in the air, dropping them back to her sides with an exasperated exhale, before firing off more questions one after another.
“Ok, let me be more specific… Did someone send you? Are you working with Dagon Coakley? Are you a hunter? Do you know Blake? Are you a figment of my imagination?” She finishes the last question but mumbles something that sounds like ‘yummy imagination’ under her breath.
There are phrases I am still learning in this realm, but I believe ‘yummy’ refers to eating. I spot a picnic bench and lead her in that direction. If she is hungry, now is a very good interval for her to eat. After all, it is a little past lunchtime now, and I don’t believe she was able to eat before leaving the merfolk village. She needs to keep her body nourished so that she is prepared for any battles we have ahead.
Heading in the direction of the bench, she follows close beside me while I begin to answer her questions as best as I can. “No. No. Yes. No. No.” There. Straight to the point, and I covered every question she laid out before me.
Apparently, my answers are not to her liking though, because she lets out a frustrated growl. I take a deep breath and tamp down on my imp side that would deeply love to growl back at her. I long to spar with her almost as much as I wish to rip off every inch of fabric covering her glorious body. This woman does something to me that I can’t even begin to understand or control.
“Are you always this talkative, Lucian?” she asks me in a snarky tone that makes me smile a little. She stops walking immediately, and I realize she is staring at me with a glorious smile on her face. “I like that. A smile looks beautiful on you.” And with that, she turns and heads the rest of the way to the bench, where she unceremoniously plops down.
I am momentarily frozen as her words seep into me. They fill me up with warmth like tiny rays of sunshine. I think that is probably the most genuinely nice thing anyone outside of my dryad brethren has ever said to me.
In that solitary moment, I feel more like a fool than I ever have in my life because I know I will do anything she would ask of me if only to see her smile like that at me again. This woman is powerful, and not just because of the magicks she wields, but the power she holds over me.
No, I will never stay away from her again, but I can’t say that I regret that decision even the slightest bit.
Keeping my hands off her will definitely prove to be the more difficult portion of the task though.
My eyes trail across her shoulders, down her spine, and land on her plump round…
I quickly snap my eyes shut and try to regain my focus.
And calm my twitching cock.
This is going to be more difficult than I had first assumed.
Clearly, it is not just my soul that craves her.