Seducing the Sun Fae

by Rebecca Rivard

  “No…,” she breathed. “I mean yes. Please. Anything.”

  Her heart squeezed with the knowledge that what they did today would have to last for a long, long time. Once she returned home, she’d never make love with this big, arrogant fada again. Even if he wanted to, he’d never risk harming his people.

  She twined her fingers in his hair and brought her mouth to his. Dion returned her kiss slow and easy as he’d promised, his tongue exploring her mouth as if they had a lifetime to learn each other and not just a few short hours.

  She moaned low in her throat. He lifted his head and she felt him eyeing her. Her aching heart must have shown on her face because he asked, “Why so sad, querida? Give me a smile.”

  She obediently stretched her lips into the semblance of a grin.

  “Not good enough,” he chided. He lifted her enough to remove her dress and then caught her waist. “Hold your breath,” he warned and, pushing off the ledge with his feet, fell with her backward into the pool.

  She shrieked just before the water closed over their heads, but he easily kicked them back to the surface. She sensed him reaching into himself for his power. There was a pleasant sizzle and the pool heated to a comfortable temperature.

  “Ah…” She sighed in contentment.

  He smoothed her wet hair back from her face and she felt rather than saw his boyish grin. “Like it?”

  She shook her head, thinking of all those cold baths she’d taken. “You’ve been holding out on me.”

  He nibbled her throat. “You were my prisoner, after all,” he said against her skin. “I couldn’t make things too comfortable for you.”

  “Has anyone ever told you you’re a bastard, my lord?” she asked pleasantly.

  “Dion.” He gave her a hard kiss. “Call me Dion.” When she obligingly repeated his name, he replied, “And yes, I’ve been called that and more.” He kissed her again, this time softly, sweetly. When she was limp in his arms, he lifted his head and said, “Now, what should I do with you, my beautiful rainha?”

  “Anything you want. But I have a request too—don’t call me queen.” As ruler of the larger, more powerful sun fae clans, she technically outranked him, but not here—not in this enchanted pool of his. “With you, I’m Cleia—only Cleia.”

  “Nothing else?” Removing his shorts, he tossed them onto the ledge, where they landed with a soggy plop, and then took her hands, swimming backward with her through the water so that they moved in a slow circle.

  When he spoke, his voice was husky; it slid over her skin like rough honey. “But I can call you querida, sim? Or minha bonita? Because you are sweet…and very, very beautiful.”

  The warm water felt good flowing over her naked body. She tilted her head back and let it caress her thighs, her breasts. “Yes, yes. Whatever you like.”

  He drew her closer and brought his mouth to hers in a hard kiss. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her sex rubbing against his belly, and opened her mouth, sucking on his tongue deep inside until they were both breathless.

  She was the one who pulled back, but his mouth only moved to her neck, trailing kisses down her jaw and throat as he slid a hand between their bodies to her breasts. “So beautiful. I want—eh, bem…” She felt him shake his head. He brushed his thumb over her nipples, teasing them with light touches.

  When they were taut and aching, he began to move again. This time he drew her through the small waterfall that flowed down the back wall. The water was chilly after the warmth of the pool. She yelped in surprise and he reeled her back in so that their mouths were almost touching, his chuckle a warm caress against her lips.

  She laughed, exhilarated. “Stars, I want you. Take me. Do whatever you want, Dion. I’m yours. You know that.”

  “Careful what you ask for,” he replied, his voice hoarse and yet tender.

  She tilted her head to one side, wondering if she’d really heard tenderness—or if that was wishful thinking on her part.

  If only she could see his face.

  Then his mouth sealed onto hers and she forgot everything but his tongue dancing with hers, hot and sexy. His erection touched her soft folds, not entering her, just sliding over the delicate, aroused tissues, and she moaned and rocked against its hard length.

  He raised her from the water so that her breasts were level with his face and sucked one of her nipples into his mouth. She gasped and gripped his shoulders as he drew on her strongly. With each pull, sensation arrowed downward, tugging on her clit and making her womb clench with pleasure. She squirmed against him, making little sounds of delight.

  Just when she thought she couldn’t take any more, he shifted his attention to her other breast. Somehow her legs were twined high around his chest, her sex rasping over the wiry hair. She ground herself against him, reaching for the climax that was close, so close…

  He chuckled darkly and slid her back down his body until they were face to face again. “Not yet.”

  She hung limply in his arms. “Screw you,” she said without heat.

  “Oh you will,” he promised. “But only when I’m ready. We’re going to do this my way. It’s want you want. Admit it.”

  Desire shivered over her skin but she tossed her head. “I admit nothing,” she said even as she wrapped her legs around him again. “You’re already too full of yourself.”

  “And you’re going to be full of me, querida.” He nuzzled her neck. “Very full.”

  And then his cock was nudging her opening and his fingers gripping her bottom as he pressed inside, inch by slow inch.

  “Oh,” she breathed, squirming a little as she adjusted to him. He was hard and thick, stretching her deliciously.

  He flexed his hips and slid the last bit in. They both sighed with satisfaction.

  And he was right, she was very, very full.

  She tightened her inner muscles around him and he rumbled in pleasure. “Damn, you feel good. Tight and so hot. My scorching little sun fae.”

  He wrapped an arm around her back, the other arm hooked under one of her thighs, and began to move, holding her in place for his slow, measured thrusts.

  “Remind me to tease you some more,” he said against her neck. “Next time.”

  “This is perfect,” she gasped. “Sometimes…basic…is best.”

  He made a sound that was half-laugh, half-groan, and backed her up so she was pressed against the rock wall beneath the waterfall. The cool water washed over her shoulders and breasts, tightening her nipples as he thrust into her, hard and fast now. The contrast of cold water and searing friction made her nerve endings go haywire. Pleasure whipped through her, wild, uncontrollable. She whimpered and dug her heels into his muscled ass, brokenly urging him on.

  He hitched her up higher so with each thrust he rubbed over her swollen clit, telling her in guttural tones how sweet she was, how much she pleased him. That if she were his, he’d have her a thousand different ways and she’d love every one of them…

  “Yes,” she breathed. “Yes, love. Please.”

  She cried out as the sensations built to a fever pitch. He thrust deep and held still as she clenched around him. Then he thrust again and a third time.

  “Cleia,” he groaned, and together, they tumbled into a bright, boundless bliss.

  When she came back to herself, she was still wrapped around him, the two of them half-reclined in the water with her on top. She shifted, trying to raise herself up, and he flexed his pelvis against hers, his cock still deep inside her. She felt him begin to harden.

  “My God,” he muttered. “I just had you and I want you again.”

  “Mm.” She relaxed back against his chest and smiled. “No complaints here.”

  They shared a kiss, then he gave a leisurely kick, sending them backward in the water until he was against the pool’s edge. She touched his face, fingering the strong bones, the stubble on his chin. Blindfolded sex was incredible, but she longed to see him. Just one more time.

  She tugged at the s
carf binding her eyes. “Take this off, Dion. Please?”

  He tensed and an ache blossomed in her chest. Even now he didn’t trust her.

  “No tricks, I promise. Truth.” She touched her breastbone in the sacred oath of the sun fae. “I swear I won’t do anything to hurt you or your people. I just want to see you.”

  His chest heaved. And then his fingers touched either side of the scarf and he muttered a few words in ancient Greek, the ritual language of all fada. The material unwrapped itself from her head and slid into the water.

  She opened her eyes and then quickly shut them again; even the dim light of the cavern hurt. She blinked several times before trying a second time, this time only opening the lids partway.

  At first, everything was hazy, but gradually her eyes adjusted and Dion’s face swam into focus. Her breath hitched.

  She’d been right. Without his glamour he was as beautiful as a god—and like a god, his was a beauty edged with danger: smooth olive skin covering thick slabs of muscle, a hard face balanced by a sensual lower lip, a mane of midnight hair and black brows guarding his startling ice-blue eyes.

  She touched his collar bone, fingered a flat brown nipple. His eyes slit in pleasure, his lashes dark fans on his cheeks. She spread her fingers over his chest. The muscles were warm and resilient under her palms. She stroked her hands over his torso and then back to his shoulders.

  Memorizing him for the long, lonely time after she returned home.

  When she glanced at his face again, he was gazing back at her. His eyes were hot, predatory, the iris a thin, clear line around pupils dark with desire. His hand slid up her back and he cupped her nape, saying nothing, just reminding her how much stronger he was than her, physically.

  She felt a tingle of excitement. He was a hard man, one who ruled his world.

  This, she realized, was what she’d been searching for in her lovers. He was right—she had been looking for a strong man, one not easily controlled. A man who saw past the queen to the woman. A man who wanted her for herself, not thanks to magic-enhanced lust.

  She’d come close to finding it with some of her other Rock Run lovers. But although she’d enjoyed them all, they’d never been quite enough. They hadn’t been Dion.

  She rubbed her lips over his. “Thank you.”

  She knew how hard it was for a fada to trust anyone outside the clan. And for Dion to extend that faith to her, the woman who’d stolen his men and weakened his people, was truly a gift.

  His expression softened. “I trust you,” he said, seemingly reading her mind, and she nodded, her heart too full to speak.

  They kissed again, an unhurried mingling of their lips and tongues, and yet somehow it meant more than any of the kisses they’d shared so far.

  Dion set her on the ledge that ran around the inside of the pool so that her head and breasts were above the water. “Can I get you anything? Some wine? Water?”

  “A glass of wine would be nice.”

  He levered himself out of the pool and padded into the sala. She watched him until he’d passed through the doorway, unashamedly enjoying the view.

  While she waited for him to return, she glanced around, curious to see the rooms where she’d spent so much of the past two weeks. The apartment had been carved out of an existing cave; she could see marks where hammers and chisels had been employed. The stone walls were mainly granite, with streaks and nodules of quartz.

  Near the ceiling, a handful of fae lights emitted a diffuse green light that made everything appear as if it were underwater. Natural light entered through several slits in the high rock ceiling. She was, of course, well-acquainted with the location of each of those five rays, but now she saw how cleverly they’d been placed to illuminate the bedroom without making it overly bright.

  As she’d observed the first day, it was a sparse, utilitarian space with the only furniture being a bed and two chairs. Shelves chiseled into the wall held a few personal items—a hairbrush, shaving utensils, a toothbrush and a small glass. The room was clearly used by Dion alone, which pleased a possessive side she hadn’t known existed. Whatever lovers he’d had previously hadn’t made a mark on his most private space.

  Dion returned with a glass of vinho verde. He lowered himself into the water and put an arm around her, while with the other hand he offered her the wine, never taking his gaze from hers. Her breath sped up at his intent look.

  He took a sip for himself and set the glass down. “What now?” he mused, pulling her closer. His tongue caressed the sensitive point of her ear and she let out an involuntary moan. “I think I know.”

  Before she could ask what he meant, he ducked beneath the pool’s surface and nudged his way between her legs, placing her feet on his shoulders and wrapping his arms around her hips.

  “Dion?” She chuckled and then gasped as his mouth closed over her clit. He did something to make the water heat a little more and started to suckle her, slow and easy. “Oh. My. Lord,” she breathed and grasped the pool’s edge, arching into him.

  He eased a couple of fingers into her passage, stroking her, while his mouth continued its slow, sensual seduction. She rocked her hips, urging him on. He wrapped a hand around her thigh, holding her in place as he continued to pleasure her, remaining underwater way longer than a man ought to be able to, so that she wondered if he could grow gills at will.

  And then she wasn’t thinking of anything but the hot suck of his mouth as he circled his tongue around her aching bud. His fingers stroked in and out of her, rubbing over sensitive inner walls. She tightened on him, her thighs gripping his shoulders. Heat built in her lower belly, spiraled higher. She gripped the rocky edge, making broken sounds of arousal as pleasure twisted through her.

  It increased until she broke and came hard, calling his name, her inner muscles convulsing around his fingers.

  He waited until she went limp with satiation before blowing a few hot bubbles against her clit. She couldn’t help giggling and he must have heard because he squeezed her bottom in retaliation. He surfaced one slow inch at a time, kissing his way up her abdomen until he appeared in front of her.

  He took her face in his big hands. “Do you know,” he husked, “how beautiful you are when you’re aroused?”

  She shook her head, mesmerized by the tenderness in his gaze.

  “Não? Then I’ll tell you. Your eyes are big and dark with little gold streaks like stars on a hot summer night, and your cheeks are flushed like a child’s. Your nipples are hard points, and your cunt”—he glided his cock over her swollen folds—“is wet and ready for me. If you were mine, I’d love you day and night, keep you like this all the time so that everyone knew who you belonged to.”

  Her throat constricted. “I want that too. So much.”

  He groaned and rested his forehead against hers. “Ah, querida. What are we going to do?”

  She brushed his thick black hair back from his face. “Take me, Dion. Take me hard.”

  He twisted her hair around his wrist and gently tugged her head back. Her skin prickled at the look in his eyes. His lips curved in a feral smile that reminded her that he was a fada and would never be entirely tame.

  “As you wish, minha rainha.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  At Cleia’s words, a dark, almost predatory lust rose up in Dion. For a few slow, powerful heartbeats, he was more animal than not, his blood pumping hot and wild. His grip tightened on her hair and his lips peeled back in a savage grin.

  He inhaled raggedly, struggling to rein in his animal, as Cleia watched him, her golden-brown eyes wide. Then she swiped her tongue over her lower lip, red and swollen from his kisses, and he nearly came out of his skin.

  He drew a shuddering breath. He had to get himself under control before he did something he regretted, took her in a way that only a fada female would understand. He briefly closed his eyes, waiting until the pounding in his veins subsided before brushing a light kiss over her lips.

  In response, she nipped h
im.

  His brows winged up. “What the—” He fingered his stinging lower lip. Damn if she hadn’t drawn blood. He rinsed it off in the pool.

  “Don’t,” she demanded. “Don’t hold back.”

  His heart resumed its slow, hard beat. “You want this?” He eyed her strong, beautiful face. “Be very sure, my lady.”

  Her gaze challenged his. “I’m sure, Lord Dion.”

  “Bom.” He climbed out of the pool with her in his arms and set her on her feet. He tugged her head back again, not hurting her, just reminding her who was in charge, and said, “Open your mouth.”

  She gave him a slow smile and then opened to him as he took her mouth in a fierce kiss.

  “You’re mine,” he growled when he lifted his head. “Mine for this night. Mine forever. Tell me.”

  “Yes. You know I am. I wish—” Her voice caught.

  He shook his head. “No thinking—just let yourself feel.” He took her hand and led her across the room to the sheepskin rug at the foot of the bed. “Now, minha bonita.” He turned her around and pressed the middle of her back, urging her down. “On your knees.”

  She smiled and obeyed. He clenched his fists, her ready submission feeding that dark side of him. Kneeling behind her, he pressed her shoulders so that she was on all fours, her varicolored hair streaming like liquid metal over her back. He cupped her hips and let his gaze roam hungrily over her, moving down her body to where her waist tapered in and then flared into that round, perfect ass.

  “So beautiful,” he said thickly, caressing one firm globe. “So fucking beautiful.”

  Her head dropped as she pressed back against his hand. “Dion.”

  He smiled and moved his hands to her breasts, pinching the nipples into furled points. “Such pretty nipples. I’d like to taste them—but not yet. Later, I think.”

  She moaned and arched her back. “Oh, that feels good. So good.”

  He came upright again. He squeezed her ass, hard enough to imprint his fingers on the smooth golden skin. She moaned again and he said, “I’ll make it even better, eu prometo.”