Everlong (17 page)

He grunted, but settled me across his lap and tucked my back to his chest. His chin rested on my shoulder as he took my hands and folded them across my lap. “Are you ready?”

I swallowed. “Yes.”

He nuzzled my throat, pulling my hair aside to nibble the skin there. “Good, because the show is about to begin.”

“What show?”

Almost on cue, a hazy cloud of incandescence extended across the sky, encasing everything in a pale, pulsing light. Tiny sparks rained down around us, sizzling pleasantly as they landed on my skin. Everything touched by Figment’s magic twinkled softly.

I looked over my shoulder, finally able to see Clayton in the faint glow. “It’s beautiful.” I leaned my check against his. “Thanks for sharing this with me.”

His answer was a low growl as his hips shifted below me, bringing my attention back to his obvious arousal. I leaned against him, and his heart beat steadily against my back. Lower, he pulsed to the same rhythm, growing larger and firmer beneath me.

“I want you.” His hands molded my rib cage, his thumbs teasing the soft undersides of my breasts through the fabric of my shirt. “So much it hurts sometimes.”

I rocked my hips across his lap, encouraging him. His hands jerked down to hold me in place. I tried to wiggle, but he held tight. “Did I do something wrong?”

His hands softened. “No.” He nipped me where my neck met shoulder. “You’re perfect.”

“Then why did you stop me?”

“If we do this tonight, I won’t let you walk away in the morning.” His fingers stroked my side just beneath the hemline of my shirt. “You must be certain of your choice.”

Certainty sang through my body. Knowing he was primed for me and feeling his need rise beneath me was more intoxicating than any pheromone.

He slid with me beneath him to the ground. I looked up into his face, backlit by the flickering overhead, and cupped his cheeks between my hands. “I’m sure.”

He let me pull him down for another slow meeting of lips, but I needed more. More skin, more of him. My fingers fumbled over the buttons of his shirt, eagerly jerking the shirttail free of his pants and working the shirt from his arms.

I leaned up as far as I was able and rubbed my face across his chest, teasing the flat disk of his male nipple with my tongue. With a slow slide of my nails down his well-muscled chest, I went lower until I found the button of his pants and worked the closure open.

Drawing the zipper down, I slipped my hand beneath the elastic band of his boxers. My fingers tunneled through crisp hairs to find his erection. I stroked him once, twice, glorying in the slide of delicate skin over hard male. When I cupped his sac, the warm weight filled my palm. His body was such a curious mix of textures. I wanted to explore more of him.

“Madelyn.” His husky whisper said he wanted me to stop, but the tense lines of his body said otherwise. He captured my seeking hands in his. His shoes were kicked off in the grass, then his pants.

He pulled me upright as he straddled my legs and tugged my shirt overhead. His nimble fingers unhooked my bra and discarded it behind me. All the while, his dark eyes never left mine, sensing perhaps that I needed that connection with him. When he reached for the closure of my jeans, I lay back down and helped him rid me of the clothing left between us.

He braced over me with one hand planted on the ground just beside my head. His chest lowered to mine and I whimpered at our first touch of naked skin to naked skin. He swallowed the sound, leaving me hungry, desperate to feel his skilled mouth on other parts of my body.

“Tell me I can touch you.”

I licked lips gone dry. “Please…touch me.”

His dark head lowered, kissing across my collarbone until his eager lips found the tip of my breast and drew it into the moist heat of his mouth. His teeth tugged the hardened peak and I arched up to him, unable to stop my body’s reaction. And that wasn’t the only one.

Lower, I felt different, wet and soft, ready.

With a final swirl of his tongue, Clayton cupped the small mound in his palm and squeezed. “You can’t know how long I’ve imagined this. Being with you this way.”

He nuzzled his face between my breasts while his fingers pinched the tips until they pebbled harder against his hands. His lips brushed a trail of light kisses down my stomach towards my navel. When his clever tongue dipped inside, I jerked beneath him.

He continued his downward path with focus that unnerved me. The lower he went, the more I squirmed and scooted to try and keep up with him.

He chuckled softly. “You have to hold still.”

“I can’t.”

“Or won’t? Don’t you like how this feels?” His sharp teeth closed over my hipbone.

A breathless sigh was all I could manage. I feared the slow burn building where his kisses neared. Something told me once he reached his destination, he would know exactly how much I enjoyed his ministrations. Heat flashed in my cheeks.

His hands smoothed over and under my hips until he cradled the cheeks of my bottom in his large palms. My legs splayed open, exposing my core to his eager gaze.

“Relax,
deshiel.
I’ll stop anytime you tell me to.”

My throat closed shut on the protest I knew I should have made. The thought of Clayton as my consort, training my body to respond to his desires, made me quiver in his grasp. Fears of what might have been had I stayed in Askara dissolved beneath his soft lips.

Duty had no place in this. Only desire fueled the string of kisses trailing lower than any male had ever touched. He wanted me, and not the crown or throne or title I no longer bore.

The sudden warm slide of his tongue parting my folds had my elbows digging into earth and my shoulders pushing free of the ground. His fingers gripped tighter as he glanced up and growled like a predator interrupted from his feast.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to do that.”

My breath caught as his face clouded with desire.

“And I’m certain I am.” His expression softened just before lowering his head. His tongue entered me again and my legs slapped shut on impulse, locking his face between my thighs. He hummed contentedly, mistaking my uncoordinated reactions for encouragement. Perhaps they were.

He slipped a hand from beneath me to join his mouth in its skilled torture of my tender flesh. He dipped one of his broad fingers inside me, and I gasped and rolled my hips into his palm. My muscles tightened, begged for something more he wouldn’t give me. His questing finger stopped just short of some invisible mark.

“Please,” I begged. “I need more.”

He obliged by inserting a second finger and pumping harder as his tongue laved the pulsing, desperate center of me. One final push and pleasure overcame me. My elbows slipped from beneath me. My back hit the ground as my body shuddered and twitched around his finger and tongue. My trembling legs fell open, and he moved into position between them.

The storm in his blue-gray eyes intensified, blackening seconds before silver swallowed his pupils. His skin darkened, turning the same shade as the night just beyond our cozy bubble of illumination. Then he leaned back to look down at me. “How do you want me?”

“I—” I had no idea how to answer that.

Clayton’s glamour fell away as heavy wings arched over me, the thin skin flushing brighter with his intent. His olive-complected skin darkened to a flawless shade of ebony.

For a full second I couldn’t breathe. His wings stretched and flexed away from his back. When a shiver moved through him, I answered with a wet rush of moisture where his body met mine. My head turned automatically to allow my eyes to follow every movement of his great, scarlet wings.

“I guess that answers my question.”

I hoped it did because my mouth had turned to cotton as his wings twitched and flicked out gracefully behind him. I had to touch one. I reached up, smoothing across the leathery skin. Clayton groaned and their color flared brighter.

I stared. I couldn’t help it. With Clayton kneeling between my legs, his wings outstretched and begging for my attention, he was beautiful. I would never forget this night, this claiming. The way his earnest eyes searched mine for assurance or the way his much larger body looked against the night sky still lit by comet-like tails shooting down to earth.

My hands buried in his hair and pulled him down for a kiss. His weight shifted, muscles bunching where his thighs parted my own. He sighed as he thrust against me, rubbing his shaft across my sex.

Hips pushing up to meet him, I drew a strained chuckle from where his cheek pressed against mine. “I need to be inside of you.”

Snaking his hand between our bodies, Clayton guided himself to my core. The smooth head of his erection seared me, so much hotter than the rest of his body as it nudged at my entrance. His hips bunched, preparing for entry.

His lips found my ear. “I love you, Maddie. Since that first time I saw you in the gardens of Rihos, I knew you were all there would ever be for me.”

His wings snapped out, filling the sky behind him with their ruddy fullness. I couldn’t focus when they flittered that way, couldn’t help but watch their dance.

The tension thrumming through his body released in that moment of disorientation as he slid deep inside of me, breaking through my virgin barrier.

I gasped as pain and pleasure coalesced, raking his back with my fingernails. “You cheated.”

I should have known he would have given such careful thought to this moment. Each gentle rock buried him deeper. My untried muscles strained against his delicious invasion.

His husky chuckle ended on a groan as I wiggled beneath him, trying to get closer and accidentally tensing my inner muscles around him. He rested his forehead on my chest. “I wanted to go slow.” He slid out in small degrees then slammed into my core. “I want this to be good for you.”

I grabbed his ass and dug in my nails. “Then move.”

The thrust and retreat of his body into mine was maddening. He wrapped my legs around his waist, opening me to deeper penetration. And then took it.

His strokes grew harder, longer. His panting breaths matched mine.

“Clayton.” I wanted to say the words, needed to give them back to him before this final act joined us together.

His ragged breath caught. “You don’t have to say anything.” He thrust harder now. My head rolled back. I couldn’t think past the pleasure.

The pressure built until I knew something irrevocable was about to happen. I needed to tell him what he meant to me, but it was too late. I cried out his name as my muscles clamped around the hard length of him.

Above me, he growled and surged within me. His back stiffened, muscles straining as his breath rushed out over his lips. Hot spurts filled my shuddering insides as he came.

He dropped his forearms to the ground, resting with our bodies still joined, aligned from head to hip. He brushed sweat-dampened hair from my eyes. He was quiet, and I didn’t like it.

The moment was lost and I didn’t know how to bring it back. “Clayton—”

He cut me off as his lips brushed my temple. “You’re mine. That’s enough for now.”

But it wasn’t enough. Not for me, not for either of us. I couldn’t think of anything else to do, so I did the one thing that never failed to get Emma’s attention. I pinched him.

He jerked backwards, as startled by my attack as I was. “What was that for?”

“For being so damn accepting of me, for being willing to settle when you deserve better. You told me you loved me—”

“And I do.”

“Then you will shut up and hold still long enough to let me tell you that I love you too.”

He blinked, still rubbing the sore spot. Then dimples pierced his cheeks. “Can I hear it again?”

“I love you, Clayton Delaney, and you’re stuck with me now because I claim you as my male, as is my right.”

His lips curved upward before they covered mine. The fading lightshow flickered out to leave us in darkness. As the last glimmer left the sky, I pulled his chest back down to mine, feeling him stir within me as I breathed in the scent of male and sex.

My male, and the first of many times I planned to lay claim to him tonight.

About the Author

Hailey Edwards lives in a fantasyland of her own creation, where her closest neighbors are Cairine House vampires, Bay Cerise werewolves, and a colony full of Evanti demons.

To explore Hailey’s world, visit her website at
www.HaileyEdwards.net
, or to find out all of her latest news, check her blog,
www.CairineHouse.com
.

Iron born and iron bred. Trust not iron, it will see you dead.

Soul Fire

© 2009 R. F. Long

Rowan Blake could really use a magic wand to keep her struggling art gallery afloat. But the faerie key she stumbles across is far from a lucky charm. It’s a magnet for danger, and by touching it she’s unwittingly put herself in the middle of a war between the forces of light and dark. And in the arms of its rightful owner, Prince Daire.

While searching for his brother, Daire finds himself trapped in the Iron World with a mere mortal woman who ignites his passion like no other. Each stolen kiss deepens their attraction and sends him spiraling closer and closer to the edge of his inherent dark desires. Desires that act as a homing beacon for the Dark Sidhe, who are intent on forcing him to fight on their side.

The longer he lingers in her arms—and in her bed—the closer his enemies get to her door. And the greater the risk that the gateway to the Faerie Realm will shift, destroying not only his power to protect her, but his very life.

Warning
Contains enchantments, danger, some very scary monsters, a trip to the dark side and hot, soul-transforming sex with an immortal prince.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Soul Fire:

Daire lifted her again and carried her through to the living room, to the same sofa on which he had lain. Rowan tried to fight the exhaustion eating away at her consciousness. With precise clarity of distraction, she watched him turn the catches on the window with the blade of his knife, securing her home, protecting her.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“The original builders of your home knew enough to place iron locks on doors and windows and to bury iron beneath the thresholds. I can feel its sting. As your guest I can bypass them, and any Sidhe or fae with enough strength could break through eventually. Not without pain, or sacrifice, but even iron cannot hold in perpetuity.”

He took the plant stalks from her unresisting hands, wincing as it touched his bare skin.

“What’s wrong? What is it?”

Daire didn’t reply at first. He snapped the long stems and threw them into the fireplace, shaking his hands as if to clear a sting.

“It’s broom.” He knelt before her. Red welts, raised and obviously painful, covered his palms and fingers. “It likes not my kin and me. If they come, light your fire. Your windows and doors are bound with iron already. The smoke will prevent them using the chimney.”

“How?”

He shook his head briefly, a rapid gesture, almost too quick for her tired eyes. “Not now. They’ve gone for now. You need no nightmares.”

She lay back, closing her eyes in relief. All she wanted now was sleep, to relieve herself of the terrible burden of exhaustion. Deep inside her lay a quiet, dark place where she longed to curl up and hide. She found her consciousness burrowing towards it.

“No.” He pulled her up from the sofa. “Rowan, you can’t sleep. Not now. Talk to me.”

Part of her wanted to. The rest wanted to push him away. The logical part of her said
stay awake and find out as much as you can, find out what is wrong with you, what makes you want to sleep like the dead
. The rest of her told the logical part precisely what it could do with itself. She wanted sleep, needed sleep, as she had never needed it. And nothing on the entire planet could induce her to—

Daire kissed her. His lips claimed hers, burned against the sensitive skin. His mouth parted slightly, requiring a response. It was both invitation and a plea. His breath caressed her flesh, driving her senses beyond what they could stand.

His hands cupped her shoulders, holding her swaying body in place as his kiss filled her. She wasn’t sure how to respond, even if she had the strength, so she let him hold her to him and drank in kiss after delirious kiss.

Daire broke away from her and when he spoke, his voice sounded ragged. “Rowan, I’m not sure how much of this you’ll understand, but try to follow me. Magic needs energy. I am a creature of magic. And you…”

As if unable to help himself, he leaned in and kissed her again, like someone faced with a long-denied addiction. Hunger, need, and desire, beyond reason. She sensed his failing reluctance and yet couldn’t help luxuriating in the sensations, the touch of his lips, his tongue filling and enticing her. Her heart thundered against her ribs as he pulled back.

“Somehow, you are a source of enormous magical energy. It is a mortal’s gift from the Creator, the ability in turn to create. That is true magic. Do you understand me?”

She nodded, but with the movement the exhaustion flooded back again, a dark wave of oblivion which crested far above her. Her head lolled back as she surrendered to it.

Daire kissed her again, buoying her back to the light of his embrace, to the sound of his voice. His lips trailed across her cheek, up her jaw line, to her ear.

“I asked you to give me some energy, without thinking you would give me so much. You are a giving person. It isn’t in you to hold back. I should have thought—for that I am sorry. I should have guessed you would not understand the implications. I need to give some back to you, Rowan. Or you will be ill. Dangerously ill. Your
tine anama
is unbalanced, your soul flickering. I must restore what is yours.”

“How?” He sounded so serious. And the way her consciousness lurched sickeningly between the dark and Daire’s light, it felt serious, or would if she could bring herself to care for more than a moment. Every time she could grasp the importance, it slid away, straight into shadows on an oil-skimmed track.

Daire cradled her against his body again, rested his face against her hair. His words drew her back, though she felt certain he thought she slept.

“Would that I could make love to you, Rowan. I can imagine no greater honour, nor admit no more earnest desire. And that would restore any amount of your power, for it is a shaping of all things. But I dare not. I cannot. I wish I could, but I am not the man to love you. There is no heart left within me for love.”

She stirred, disturbed by the tack this was taking. Opening her eyes, she looked into his smile and knew no matter what he thought, he felt nothing of the sort. Daire had a heart. She could feel it hammering against his chest, echoing through her body. She could see its glow in the depths of his wondrous eyes.

“But there are other ways, Rowan, if you will but give me your permission.”

“Permission?”

“To touch you. To fulfil you. To bring your strength back.”

“But the other night—”

“That is part of the problem. Two nights in a row, two nights I have—” He cursed, though the words were ancient and unknown to her. “I’m like nothing more than a Leanán Sidhe, feeding off mortals for my own purposes and enrichment. Please, Rowan, let me return what I have pilfered. It burns within me, tortures me with the knowledge of the forbidden.”

His lips brushed her neck, a little trail of fiery kisses down the edge of her erratically pulsing jugular. Her blood beneath surged in response and her breath caught in her throat.

“But you said you…you can’t make love…”

“Other ways, sweet Rowan,” he murmured into her skin. “I will never harm you. May I?”

Rowan bit her lip, intrigued. He couldn’t make love to her, by his own admission, couldn’t or wouldn’t love her. Other ways? Excitement mingled with fear and yet the dark silence still called. Rest, oblivion, peace…and if their enemies came she would be completely helpless.

“All right,” she said, unable to hide the wariness in her voice.

“I will stop if you command it,” he promised solemnly, and she believed him.

Rowan released all control to the Sidhe prince and allowed him to draw her back from the shadows calling her. Daire made her comfortable on the sofa, removed her shoes and her coat, all with the neat precision of a ritual. He loosened her hair, running his fingers through its length as if he was experiencing the finest silk. Just when Rowan was sure he had changed his mind, that he had decided to grant her the peace she craved and feared, his mouth closed on hers.

Daire’s kiss was determined, no chaste brush of the lips this time, no mistaking his intent. She opened beneath him like a flower to the sun. He smiled as he kissed her. She could feel it in their lips and somehow that made her too scared to open her eyes. Daire of the sombre expression, Daire who was constructed from hard lines of determination, Daire was smiling.

He trailed his way down her neck while his hand slid beneath her body, cradling her, massaging the taut muscles where her neck met her shoulders. For a moment she lost all sense of self, her body relaxing into his touch. She lay so still that one might think her deeply asleep, and yet inside herself, she struggled desperately for equilibrium.

Rowan had no idea when he opened her blouse or removed her bra, but she gasped as his mouth closed over her nipple, drawing it into his mouth, warm, wet and welcoming. His tongue swirled around the areola. His other hand brushed the soft skin of her thighs, parting them effortlessly. Fae enchantments? She squeezed her eyelids tighter, and arched her back, her breath coming harder as he switched breasts, as his hand cupped the mound and pressed with just the right amount of pressure.

That was one of the old stories, wasn’t it? The fae lover who could make a woman wild with desire, fulfil her so that she would never want another, would waste away with the need for his touch. Hadn’t she suspected his glamour of acting on her before? Hadn’t she thought of her reaction to him, her need for him, and wondered if it was deliberate? She had been a fool. That was a vague shadow to the things she felt now. That was just a dream, a myth, a fleeting shadow. Now she lay in the heart of the sun.

“Daire,” she forced the words out. “Daire, please!”