Lord of the Hunt (22 page)

His hand stopped. “We should break up.”

“What?”

“Until Felan is King.” He looked her in the eye and she saw the cold glint of a fairy plotting. “Until then, we play it safe, no risks.”

“No crossing the veil.” There would be nothing to look forward to.

His fingers traced the curve of her breast. “No stolen kisses.”

“No secret liaisons.” She moved her thigh over his, her hand trailed down his chest, over smooth bands of muscle.

“Definitely none of them.” But he made no effort to stop her fingers as they traced the length of his erection. “After tonight.”

“Once more for old times’ sake, then we break up to save our relationship.”
And
ourselves.

“Yes.”

She laughed. “Only a fairy would think that was a good idea.”

“But it is, because if we aren’t together, we won’t be thinking about being together when we aren’t together, which means we won’t accidentally get caught.”

It took her a moment to process what he was saying. She may not be drunk, but the edges were fuzzy. She could see why no one drank at Court. One too many wines and all the clever plans would come unraveled. But here they were making plans—not great ones, but the best they could do.

“This is why humans like alcohol. After a couple drinks, you can solve all your problems.” She leaned in and ran her tongue over his lower lip. He opened his mouth to her.

They were going to regret this in the morning, she was sure of it. But right now they were breaking up so they had to break up really good. She eased her leg over his hip to straddle him, then pinned his hands beneath hers.

“I’ve caught the Hunter,” she said with a smile as she rolled her hips against his, feeling his hardened flesh pressing close, teasing.

He closed his eyes and groaned, but made no effort to pull his hands free. “No one has ever tried to catch me before.”

“You like?”

“I like everything you do.” Then he arched his back as if attempting to throw her off, but he wasn’t trying hard and she remained seated. “Looks like you have me trapped.”

She leaned forward so the tips of her nipples brushed his chest; then she nipped his lip. “And what do I get?”

“What do you want?” His hips lifted suggestively.

This was going to be a problem. She couldn’t hold him and angle his shaft to be able to have her way with him. She broke eye contact, tried not to laugh, and failed. She should have had an extra glass or two to drink.

He joined her laughter, the dusting of hair on his chest tickling her breasts. “You didn’t think that through very well did you?”

She hadn’t thought that far ahead. She’d been joking about catching him, but she could see the appeal of holding down one of the most powerful men in Annwyn. He was hers. For tonight. What if they never got back together? She couldn’t think like that.

She shifted her grip. “You want me to hold you?”

“And never let go.” He was smiling, his teeth gleaming in the moonlight, but she felt the weight of his words. He was giving himself to her.

She leaned down and kissed him as if the world was ending. He slid one hand free, his fingers grazing the side of her breast, then skimming lower, over her butt, between their bodies. His hand slid up her inner thigh and then over her sex, his fingers dipping into the slick heat of her core. His gaze was on her, watching as he played and stroked her clit. Tension tightened in her belly, but before she got close, his hand eased away and was replaced by the heat of his shaft nudging at her sex. She rocked back, ready to take him. Then stopped. She wasn’t ready to end this.

“Ride me.”

“Not yet.” She released his hand and sat up. In the soft light, his muscles dipped and curved; dark hair trailed down his stomach. She flicked her tongue over one flat brown nipple. Then she moved lower, kissing and licking her way down. He drew in a breath and his body tensed.

Her tongue touched the tip of his shaft and he flinched. A breeze traced across her skin, but instead of cooling her, it made her hotter as she realized how sticky her skin was becoming and how hard her blood was pumping. She could feel the lust coiling in her body, waiting to be released.

She took him in her mouth. Satiny, hot, hard flesh against her tongue. When she sucked, he tasted like tart berries. Her hand glided down the length of him as she watched his every reaction. The tightening of his stomach, the hiss of his breath as he clamped his teeth together, but his eyes remained open, watching. She circled the crown with her tongue, her lips caressing the smooth skin one last time before she eased back up his body, aware of the tension in her belly and the need slicking her sex. She positioned his shaft and took him into her core slowly, enjoying every inch until she was fully seated.

Their gazes locked as she began to move. He shifted beneath her to thrust deeper, one hand on her hip. With his eyes on her, she let one of her hands slide over her thigh, to the junction of her legs. Her fingers pushed through the dark, damp curls to her clit. His gaze dropped to watch her hand.

He was all hers. His body was tense and spread before her, waiting for her to come. His gaze tracked every movement. He dragged her down for a kiss, his hand in her hair, his touch rough and needy. He moved, and in her next breath she was on her back looking up at him as his sank back into her.

She moaned and arched toward him, each thrust becoming more urgent. Her core clenched around him as she came, her hips moving faster as she tried to drag every drop of pleasure from the moment. He shuddered and stilled, his head resting on her shoulder. His breath on her skin. Above her the stars glittered. They were so far away here, shiny dots of far-off suns. In Annwyn they hung heavy and close in a purple sky.

He lifted his head and looked at her before placing a soft kiss on her lips and easing away to lie on the grass next to her.

Her breathing returned to normal, but she could still feel a tingle in her blood and a warmth on her skin, something more than just the afterglow. “You know, I think I can feel the midsummer magic.”

“Seasons turn. We’ll have our day in the sun, just not now.” He linked his fingers with hers and they watched the sky, both knowing that they were over and that they had to go back, but neither wanting to be the first to move.

***

A deep lowing nearby made Taryn open her eyes. For a moment she didn’t know where she was. Then it all spun back in a rush. She was still in the field. The noise was from a cow that was eyeing her and it was no longer night.

“Ah shit.” She gave Verden a shove. “It’s almost morning.” Dawn had arrived and was nearly over. What time was it back in Annwyn?

Time moved differently there. It had probably only been a few hours, not a whole night—but she wasn’t willing to gamble on that. She grabbed up her dress and started pulling it on.

Verden sat up, his head in his hands. “What is that awful pounding?”

“Hangover, which will be worse if we don’t move it.” She tossed his clothes at him and tried to ignore the pressure on her temples. That was the reason she didn’t drink very often; it didn’t take much to get her tipsy but she always had a killer headache afterward. She’d thought it was just her, but apparently it was a fairy thing.

“You didn’t warn me about that.”

“Sorry. I don’t have aspirin either so you’ll just have to tough it out.” The way she would, until she got back to her room in Annwyn and rummaged through her purse. She should offer him one…nah, they’d broken up and he needed something to remember her by.

He tugged on his pants and boots, and for the first time since she’d known him, he looked like he’d had a rough night. His hair had come loose and was curling on his shoulders with the occasional piece of grass poking out. What did she look like?

“You’ve got grass in your hair.”

Verden stopped doing up his shirt and looked at her. “So do you.”

She hastily combed her hair with her fingers and twisted it in a loose knot, hoping that she looked presentable. “We’ve stayed too long.”

“We’ll be fine. I have been out cavorting and…well, people will assume you’ve been in someone’s bed, just not mine.” There was an edge to his voice, but where he once would have touched her or helped pull the grass out of her hair, he kept his distance. It was better that way. Easier.

“Right, of course.” She glanced at the trees that marked the doorway, anxious to get back, yet not wanting to leave. “Shall we go?”

Verden gathered up the mortal clothing and led the way. She followed, unable to walk beside him in case she accidentally took his hand. What would the Court say if she walked in wearing jeans?

“Remind me again why mortals drink?” He stopped by the doorway.

“To relax, to forget their troubles for a while.”

“They don’t care that the troubles will be waiting?” He reached out to touch her cheek, then pulled his hand back at the last moment.

Taryn turned her head away. “We have to do this properly.”

“I know. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to touch you.”

“Isn’t that what Court is about? Doing things you don’t want to with a smile on your face?”

“No. Court is for the power hungry and those that love the game. The rest live at the edges of Annwyn or in the mortal world. I’m tired of the game.”

“Last roll of the dice?”

He nodded.

“And the King?”

Pain flickered in his eyes before being masked. He was preparing himself to go back, constructing the lie as she watched all emotion leave his face. “I’m still his.” He paused. “Loyal subject as are you.”

She knew they’d been friends once. Now Verden couldn’t stand to see the King with her, and if the King knew what they were doing he’d be pissed. But she loved Verden, not the King, and while there were many things she’d do to get her parents back, going to his bed wasn’t one of them. She couldn’t pretend sex was just a business transaction or part of a deal. It meant something to her. And it meant something to Verden now.

“You’re my first fairy ex.” She forced a smile.

“Ex what?”

“Ex-lover.” Boyfriend didn’t seem quite right.

He placed a kiss on her lips before she could pull back. “Only fairy lover. This is temporary.”

Her heart hitched as she gazed into his eyes, pale gray like rain clouds of a summer storm. “Very temporary.”

Chapter 15

No one was saying it, but Felan knew this was the last midsummer that would be celebrated under his father’s rule. The swelling of the river and the spreading of winter from its banks had gone too far for it to be salvaged. It swirled and sucked at the ground in front of him as if trying to reach him. Every so often, a face or a hand would push against the surface in an effort to get free. How many souls had been condemned to spend eternity drowning, never able to break free and draw breath again? He shivered as if the chill from the river was caught in his blood.

Above him the branches glistened with frost. No leaves remained; the blight was spreading. Every day a little more ground and another tree succumbed to winter. Before he claimed the throne, Annwyn would be coated in snow—but hopefully not for long.

All he had to do was convince Jacqueline to marry him to save both worlds.

Of course, they hadn’t spoken for seven mortal years, but he’d kept watch, unable to look away from the woman who’d broken his heart. The only woman to have ever done that. He looked up at the sound of hooves. The Hunter. His father’s Hunter.

“You are looking exceptionally morose today,” Verden said as he swung off the horse.

“You too.”

“We all have reason to be grim.” He nodded at the river.

They could have spoken over dice or cards. But Felan didn’t want to be overheard and he certainly didn’t want to be seen with Verden too much—no doubt Verden felt the same way, as it might look as though his loyalty was shifting. It wasn’t, but that didn’t mean they didn’t have mutual goals.

“Tell me of Taryn’s deal with my father.”

“You could ask her yourself.”

Felan glanced at the Hunter. Something was wrong and it involved Taryn. “I’m asking you because I expect her to have told you and you will have already examined it and drawn conclusions.”

Verden looked away. “If her father agrees to his original punishment—to serve as a shadow for a year and day—he may return.”

“And Arlea?”

“Nothing specified but she isn’t exiled. I don’t think she’d be welcomed at Court.” Verden spoke carefully. Too carefully.

“And?”

There was a pause as if the Hunter were chewing over something unpalatable. “Taryn is still bound to the King and therefore beyond my reach.”

Felan nodded. “I don’t know if there is much I can do.”

“You placed her there in the first place. You brought her here to get the pardon.”

“And if I hadn’t, you would never have met her.” Felan crossed his arms and sighed. “There’s nothing I can do.”

“Horse shit. You don’t want to do anything.”

“And what price are you willing to pay to have me intercede in my father’s private matters? What reason would you have me give to him when he has pursued her publicly this far?”

Verden took a few steps away and turned around. For a moment Felan saw the raw pain on the other man’s face. “It doesn’t matter; we are over.”

“So soon?”

“How can we continue when everything is set against us?”

“It won’t be forever.” That was all the comfort he could give Verden.

“I know and I’m counting on it.”

“Do you seek to change your position with me?”

Verden shook his head. “My word remains unbroken. I will not break it to suit your purpose.”

“So you have said before and yet here you are, speaking freely, keeping my secrets as I keep yours. So I ask you plainly: if we weren’t at cross-purpose, would you act on my behalf?”

Verden was silent for a moment. If he’d answered too fast, Felan would have doubted his sincerity. Here was a man weighing his future and trying to find a clear path to the one thing he wanted. Taryn. Felan wasn’t enough of a bastard to use that against him. He wanted that, that moment where nothing held value except love. “I would.”