Epilogue
Avery
One Year Later
“Avery!” Shelly’s voice cut through the cheerful chaos of the Booklovers Ball, the romantasy event we were hosting.
She wove between customers in her emerald velvet gown, the fabric swishing against the worn hardwood floors as she approached. “Flint needs you in the office.”
I looked up from the display table I’d been arranging, a stack of romantasy novels balanced in my arms. “Now? We’re in the middle of the event.”
“He said it was important.” Shelly grinned, adjusting the silver circlet perched on her dark curls. “Something about inventory numbers that don’t add up.”
I sighed and handed her the books. “Fine. Can you finish setting up the giveaway basket?”
“Already on it, boss.”
I smoothed down the skirts of my regal burgundy gown and touched the fake fae ears tucked into my hair. My braid hung down my back, threaded with gold ribbon that Gwen had insisted on weaving into it this morning. She’d said every bookstore owner deserved to feel like a queen at her own event.
My husband, of course, had refused to dress up.
When I’d shown him the fae king costume I’d ordered online, complete with pointed ear prosthetics and a golden crown, he’d laughed so hard he’d nearly choked on his coffee.
“Not a chance in hell, babe,” he’d said, kissing my forehead before pulling on his typical red flannel and worn jeans.
I smiled at the memory as I made my way through the crowded store.
It had been a magical year with him. Bookish was thriving under our partnership, our love life was better than anything I’d ever imagined, and Becky had delivered the ultimate “I told you so” when I’d called her ten months ago saying we needed to book a date at the Little Pink Wedding Chapel because we couldn’t wait another day before tying the knot.
“Avery! You look gorgeous!” Martha Ellis appeared at my elbow, resplendent in a deep purple gown with silver embroidery along the bodice. A tiara sat crooked on her gray curls.
“So do you, Martha. Is that new?”
“Ordered it special from that online shop you recommended,” she patted my arm conspiratorially. “Though I must say, your husband looked decidedly un-festive behind that register earlier on. Maybe you should lock him in the backstock room if he doesn’t want to participate in the proper way today.”
I laughed. “You know Flint. Getting him into costume would require an act of divine intervention.”
“Well, you keep working on him, dear. A man that handsome would make a wonderful fae warrior.”
I promised to try, then continued weaving through the crowd to the back of the store.
The bookstore looked incredible tonight. Fairy lights twinkled from the ceiling beams like captured stars. The reading nook that Flint had renovated last year now featured velvet cushions, and we’d scattered rose petals across the granite tabletop.
“Avery!” Gwen swooped in, her hair piled high and adorned with tiny flowers. “The photo booth is a hit. We’ve already had a hundred people post their photos on social media.”
“That’s amazing! Have you seen the turnout? I think half the town showed up.”
“More than half.” Gwen squeezed my hand. “You and Flint have really built something special here.”
Warmth bloomed in my chest. We had. Together.
I spotted Becky near the romance section, holding court while explaining the finer points of the enemies-to-lovers trope to a group of fascinated tourists. She caught my eye and winked.
“Heading to find your king?” she called out.
“Something like that.”
Finally, I reached the back corridor that led past the storeroom to Marlene’s old office. Our office now. I pushed open the door without knocking, already forming a question about what inventory issue could possibly be urgent enough to pull me away from the event.
But the question died on my lips.
Flint was leaning against the desk, his hands pressed flat on its surface, propping himself up with that casual masculine confidence that still made my knees weak even after a year of marriage.
His red flannel stretched across his broad shoulders, and his hazel eyes fixed on me with a deep intensity.
But that wasn’t what made me freeze in the doorway.
His jeans were unzipped, and his cock jutted out hard and thick and hungry.
The sight of him so brazenly displayed made my breath catch in my throat.
And perched on his head, slightly askew, sat the golden fae king crown I’d ordered months ago.
The one he’d sworn he would never, ever wear.
“My queen,” he rumbled, his voice dropping into that low growl that always made me shiver. “Come pay tribute to your king.”
I slammed the door shut behind me, my cheeks flushing hot. “Flint! Anyone could have seen!”
“Door opens to the back corridor, not the store.” He pushed off from the desk and stalked toward me, the crown glinting in the overhead light. “I’m not stupid, hon. Just desperate to feel you again.”
“There are fifty people out there,” I hissed.
“Then I guess you’d better be quiet,” he pulled the crown off and tossed it onto the desk, then tugged me into his arms.
“Are you serious right now?”
He responded by sliding his hands down to grip my hips, and I felt the hard length of him pressing against my stomach.
“Let me show you what a real mountain man is like. Way better than any fae king.”
“Flint, we can’t. The crowds… everyone’s out there.”
“That will make it more fun.”
He was already spinning me around, guiding me toward the desk with firm hands.
Flint pressed gently between my shoulder blades until I bent forward, bracing myself on my forearms against the wooden surface. The position hiked my dress up slightly, and I heard him make a low sound of approval.
“Been thinking about this all night,” he growled, gathering the heavy fabric in his fists and lifting it up over my hips. Cool air hit my thighs, then my ass, and I shivered as he hooked his fingers in my panties and dragged them down to my knees.
“Watching you float around in this dress, looking like some kind of fantasy. Drove me fucking crazy.”
“You could have just asked me to…”
The rest of my sentence dissolved into a gasp as he dropped to his knees behind me. His big hands spread my thighs apart, and then his mouth was on me, his tongue sliding through my folds in one long, devastating stroke.
I bit down on my lip to keep from crying out.
Through the door, I could hear the muffled sounds of the party.
All those people, just yards away, completely unaware that my husband was currently doing unspeakable things to me with his tongue.
The thought should have horrified me. Instead, it made me wetter.
Flint groaned against my flesh, the vibration sending sparks up my spine. He licked and sucked and teased, his beard scratching deliciously against my sensitive skin, until I was trembling and gripping the edge of the desk so hard my knuckles went white.
“Flint,” I whimpered. “Please. No more teasing.”
He pulled back just as I was about to tip over the edge, and I nearly sobbed at the loss.
But then I heard the rustle of denim, felt him rise behind me, and then the blunt head of his cock was pressed against my entrance.
“Remember,” he said, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. “Quiet.”
He thrust into me in one hard stroke, and I had to shove my hand against my mouth to muffle my moan.
He didn’t give me time to adjust. His hands gripped my hips hard as he set a punishing pace, driving into me so forcefully that the desk jolted with each thrust. The legs scraped against the floor in a rhythm that matched my pounding heart.
I could hear voices in the corridor now, someone asking where the bathroom was, and the knowledge that we could be discovered at any moment sent a fresh wave of hunger crashing through me.
Out at the cabin, I’d grown used to being as loud as I wanted when we made love. Screaming his name into the trees and letting the sounds of my pleasure echo across the woods.
This was different. This was deliciously, dangerously forbidden.
“That’s it,” Flint growled, bending over me so his chest pressed against my back. “Take it. Take all of me.”
His hand came up to cover my mouth just as my orgasm crested, and I cried into his palm as pleasure ripped through me. He kept pounding into me, drawing out my release until I was shaking beneath him.
Then he buried himself to the hilt and groaned, his cock pulsing as he spilled himself inside me. His hips jerked through the aftershocks, and I felt the warmth of him filling me up, claiming me as his own.
For a long moment, neither of us moved. His breath came hot and ragged against my neck, and I could feel his heart hammering against my back.
Then he pressed a kiss to my shoulder, pulled out slowly, and I heard the sound of his zipper as he tucked himself away.
A playful swat landed on my backside, making me yelp.
“Come on, love.” His voice was warm with satisfaction as he helped me straighten my dress. “Let’s go entertain our guests. We’ve got some books to sell.”
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