Chapter 48 #2
He hadn’t answered my question. There was something raw and needy in his golden gaze, and I felt myself soften. “Did you see the griffin fight on my side? Do you think I believe monsters are what we’re told?”
He laid his hand over mine on his knee. Heat pulsed between us. “You are wildly unpredictable, Never.”
His eyes lingered on mine, his pain softening into something gentler, something he had carried for a long time.
“It must hurt that you and Ander hate each other now.”
“There’s no hatred quite as intense as love burnt to ash.
” His lips quirked. “Now I have confessed my greatest wounds to you. I can charm half the kingdom, but I have always been unlovable to my own mother. I found a family and lost them. Then I made another with Clan Bismyth, and I fear that one day, I’ll falter just as Ander did and betray my purpose. ”
“I see a world governed by terrible cruelty that I can end.” He leaned forward, his golden eyes lit with dangerous fire. “And because I am the one who can end that cruelty at some terrible cost, I am dangerous to anyone who trusts me.”
“Are you trying to scare me off?” I asked, raising my brows because that was so unlike the charming prince. Was this the real Fieran, buried under eighteen masks?
Then, slowly, I understood. “You want me to see the worst of you. To know if I’ll betray you too. You want that just as much as you want me to serve your plans. Because you’re still lonely.”
He scoffed, but his rejection of the words was unconvincing. “I’d rather you called me a monster than called me lonely.”
“I know.” I leaned forward and kissed him.
It was an uncertain brush of my lips against his. Clumsy. I wasn’t unpracticed, but I felt odd with Fieran, exposed and a little silly in a way I had never felt with Galin or the others.
I started to pull back. Maybe it had been ridiculous to kiss him after he poured out all that pain, as if I thought it would be healing.
Fieran’s lips followed mine. His hand rose, threading into my hair, anchoring me to him. His lips were warm and soft and claiming.
Fieran kissed me as if he needed me.
And I kissed him back as if I needed him too. My hands slid up the hard, warm planes of his bare skin, as if I couldn’t touch him enough.
He slid under my tunic, his hands warm and rough on my bare skin. I moaned into his mouth, and his fingers tightened on my waist as if that sound might destroy him.
“Let me see you,” he murmured, pulling away just enough to work my tunic up my side.
“Please.” The word came out curt. He was always full of flattery, but what was the point in pretending I was beautiful like the Fae?
He pulled back for real then, pausing us both with his hands on my hips. His gaze searched mine. “I think you’ve misunderstood me.”
“Is that so?” I asked archly. “I recognize my mortal…curves…have a certain novelty, but—”
His hand went to my throat. I gasped as his fingers curled around my throat, the web of his hand pressed against me hard—not too hard, not yet, but enough to carry the promise of floating. “I’ll choke you rather than hear you insult the body I worship.”
I tried to say something, and he loosened his grip enough for me to do just that. My voice came out in an eager rasp, changed by the loss of my breath. “Do you think that’s a threat?”
He let out a laugh, throwing back his head. “Fuck, I could love you.”
Both of us faltered for a heartbeat, though I was still smiling; whenever I made him laugh, I felt a giddy sense of power.
“Tell me what you like about my body, then,” I said archly, putting my fingers over his wrist on my throat.
His eyes lit as if he were pleased by the challenge. His hands stroked up my sides again, cinching up my tunic. I raised my hands above my head so he could strip it from my skin.
He looked as if he were feasting on the sight of my curves, even though I still wore the soft wrappings that padded and shielded my breasts. For the training session that I was currently avoiding to be face-to-face with Fieran.
I’d no doubt pay for that, at least in Ander’s respect, but right now I couldn’t tear myself away from Fieran.
“I love these mortal curves, yes,” he admitted. “Fae are all sharp edges and cold power, and here you are, warm and alive and soft.”
He bent his head to drop a kiss to the skin just above my waistband, on my hip, and my breath stuttered in my chest.
His thumb slid over the soft skin at the top of the bindings before he undid the bindings, his hands reverent, as if he were unwrapping a gift from the gods.
“And these breasts. You’re so damned delicious.” He kissed the edge of my nipple, and my body rocked forward, wanting his hands on me. His mouth. His lips turned up at the edges, knowing, as if he intended to deliberately torture me.
He took my hand in his, pressing a kiss to the back of my knuckles. I felt self-conscious about my weathered hands, aged beyond my years, next to the smooth-skinned, glowing Fae.
“I love these competent, dangerous hands,” he told me. “Every freckle, mark, and callous. I want to feel you stroke my cock. You’re going to devastate me.”
I gripped his cock through his trousers, his hand still on mine, and his lashes fluttered as if he were on the verge.
“Lean back,” he murmured, shifting forward and pushing me down on the window seat.
His grip on my shoulder was gentle, just an urging, but I obeyed.
He arranged my legs on either side of him, then took his time, slowly removing one boot.
I shivered at the air coming in the window, brushing over my naked skin, but just as much at my vulnerability.
One boot thudded to the floor, then the other.
He slid his fingers under my waistband, rolling my leggings down and my underwear with them. I bit my lower lip, watching the way his eyes tracked over my body with delight.
“I am going to devour every inch of your body,” he told me. “So you’ll never again doubt how I desire you.”
Fieran paused, his thumb brushing over the patch of hair. “It’s darker than the rest of your hair. And so pretty.”
“It’s just hair, Fieran.”
“Not to me. It’s welcoming me before”—his thumb slid lower, through my folds, and my hips jerked—“the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen in my life.”
“It’s not welcoming you.”
“It’s not?” His brows arched, his thumb tracing more languid circles through my folds. He raised his thumb to his lips and sucked on it with evident pleasure. “Because you are so wet for me.”
“It’s not personal.”
“Liar.” His answering grin was dazzling. “I’m going to tongue-fuck you until you’re sorry.”
“I don’t think you understand how threats work, Fear.”
He suddenly lowered his head between my thighs and licked a line straight up my pussy. I let out a sound that was half-laugh, half-gasp. My thighs started to close automatically, but his arms circled my thighs, holding me open for him.
Fear’s tongue stroked me over and over, rough and hungry, and I couldn’t hold back a needy sound. My hips would have rocked, but he held me still as I longed for more friction. He settled down, his mouth working steadily against my clit.
My body tensed, already spiraling toward my orgasm, and he shifted, kissing my inner thighs. My core clenched on nothing, the wave of my orgasm dying.
Then he returned to working my clit. His tongue and mouth were all-consuming. My head fell back, my body arching; the view outside was bright and blue and shimmering as my fingers tangled in his hair.
“Fear…” I moved to push him away, sensitivity spiraling through my core as my orgasm built. He twined our fingers together, pinning my hands to my thighs. My hips rocked desperately, seeking more, seeking escape.
Seeking him.
He stopped and pressed a kiss to one lip. “Punishment, remember? For lying to me?”
The world felt floaty and disconnected, as if there was no past between us, nothing but the present, nothing but Fear’s mouth. “No.”
His laugh was a huff of air against my pussy. “You were supposed to be sorry you insulted me.”
“Did I?”
“A dozen times a day, usually.” He pressed another kiss to my center, and my whole body jerked; his eyes were magnetic as he looked up from between my thighs. “And I love it.”
I smiled, unable to hide my pleasure at pleasing him. “If I tell you I’m sorry, will you let me finish?”
“I’m just teasing, Never. You don’t ever need to apologize to me, and there’s nothing in the world that could keep me from tongue-fucking you to your finish. I bet you’re gorgeous when you scream.” He kissed my mound, and I squeezed around nothing. “Come for me now.”
He sank between my thighs, his tongue and mouth greedy, focused, lapping at me as if I truly were delicious. My fingers tightened on his as my orgasm pulled me along, and he smiled against my clit before he returned, driving me mercilessly over the edge.
I let out a cry, lost in the wild bright blue and him. My body tensed, shattered, came together again.
He started to rise, and I pulled him into my arms. He froze for a second, seeming surprised, before he came. His tousled hair brushed my nipples, and my body tensed with a second swell of need, even though my clit was tender, as I gathered him against me.
When he settled between my thighs, I ran my hand through his hair.
“I need a break,” I murmured. “Maybe you don’t know how mortals work.”
He wrapped one arm around my waist and settled into being held as if he needed me, the tension easing out of his powerful shoulders. It was a strangely vulnerable way to see the kingdom’s best warrior, and my heart softened dangerously.