Chapter 25
GARRICK
Before
“How does someone even get muscles like this?” Alair wondered aloud. As he spoke, he punctuated every word with a kiss along my bicep.
I groaned as he reached my shoulder and tongued the sensitive inflection point that he knew drove me mad.
“Half fae,” I managed to get out as he sucked on the soft spot. Hard. I’d have a mark tomorrow. I should care. Others might see. But it felt too good to tell him to stop.
Alair detached himself from my shoulder with a little pop that made my cock twitch, even though only minutes had passed since I’d emptied myself inside of him.
He rolled onto his back and stretched his arms overhead.
“I am half fae, too,” he said. He darted a look down at my cock. His grin grew. So did mine. “But I think we might be different halves.”
I couldn’t resist the invitation in his eyes. I rolled up onto my side, propping myself up on my elbow above him. “Is that why we fit together so well?”
Alair tipped his head back and laughed. Gods above and below, I would never get tired of that sound. He gave his laughs easily and often. But this unrestrained joy belonged to us. It lived here, between the walls of his bedroom above the stables.
Nothing about our relationship was specifically disallowed.
But my father already had enough leverage.
Margeaux, too. I fought hard to shield my mother.
I would not subject Alair to them as well.
Anyone I loved was in danger. It was why I’d fought him so hard in the beginning.
But Alair was not the kind of man you could resist for long. It had to do with that damn smile.
He jabbed a long finger into my stomach. He went on and on about my muscles, but somehow he still seemed able to find all of my soft spots.
“Those thoughts aren’t allowed here,” he reminded me. “No brooding allowed.”
He reached up and twirled a strand of my hair around his finger. It would be past my chin soon. Ridiculous.
“Enjoy that while you can,” I warned him. “I am cutting it tomorrow.”
His mouth popped open in outrage. “You would not dare!”
I caught his wrist in my hand, turning it so that I could press a kiss to the inside of his palm. His eyes drifted closed.
“I like your hair long,” he said dreamily. I dragged my tongue along the outside of his hand. “You have to let me see it reach your shoulders. Just once.”
I sucked his fingertip into my mouth.
“Cruel, cruel prince,” he moaned, fisting his other hand in the sheets.
“Duke,” I corrected him. Not that either of us cared. Titles had only made our lives more difficult.
This was the one place—with the one person—where I could be completely unguarded. Even with my mother, I was measured. She’d given up so much for me. I’d long outgrown those adolescent days of returning her sacrifice with anything but gratitude.
But here, in this one room with Alair, I was foolishly, deliriously happy.
“What will you give me if I agree to keep it long?” I tried to tease. But it came out raspy and breathless. My cock was hard again. I shifted, rubbing myself against his hip.
Alair speared his hand into my hair, angling his own body for some of the glorious friction. He rubbed his thumb along my smooth jaw, then twirled the amorite stud in my earlobe.
“Everything,” he said softly.
My heart clutched in my chest.
Outside of these walls, I was the Duke of Sein Talam. A king’s plaything. Alair was the half-forgotten by-blow of a lord. A stable boy. But within them, we were happy. I carried that happiness with me everywhere. It sustained me in the hard, hopeless moments.
Not today. Not this month or year or even decade. But maybe someday, we might be able to give each other everything.
We were immortals. We had all the time in the world.