Seducing the Sun Fae

by Rebecca Rivard

  He growled low in his throat, and she met his gaze, unafraid, even though he knew his eyes must be showing the animal in him.

  “Yes,” she said. “Yes.” It was all she had to say. He groaned and thrust into her hard and they went over the edge together.

  When he came back to himself, he was on his back, half in the dirt, half in the water, with Cleia resting on his chest. He rose to his feet with her in his arms and carried her back into the stream. They rinsed each other off, taking their time, splashing and playing with each other. Then she put her dress back on, not caring that it was wet, and they walked back to the path to retrieve his clothes.

  They reached the immense willow tree he’d seen the first day. He slung an arm around her shoulders and nuzzled her hair, unable to stop touching her. “This is where I first saw you—under that tree. You and Olivia.”

  “Here? But when?”

  “A couple of weeks before we met. I wanted to get the lay of the land. I was in the stream when the two of you walked by.”

  “So our first meeting wasn’t an accident. I’ve wondered. I made it so easy for you, didn’t I?”

  He moved a shoulder.

  She glanced at the stream. “But it’s so shallow. It barely comes up to your waist. Why didn’t we see you?”

  “I have a Gift for blending into the rivers and marshes.”

  “It must make you practically invisible.”

  “It does.”

  “What about your other Gift? The one you used on me?”

  “It’s not two Gifts but one—that of the hunter. The one power allows me to conceal myself, and the other allows me to draw raw energy from the moisture in clouds to stun the victim before finishing it—or him—off.”

  Her brows crawled into her hairline. “I see. So if you’d wanted to, you could’ve killed me that day. Artan and Grady wouldn’t have been able to stop you.”

  “Probably.”

  Her gaze assessed him. “Why tell me now?”

  “Because I want you to be more careful. Your wards against intruders are powerful, yet I was able to get through them simply by shifting to a fish. The wards didn’t work against my animal form. Although you could have sensed me if you’d tried—you’re strong enough—but you thought you were safe and that made you careless.” He hesitated, then added, “And because I want you to know what my Gift is.”

  It was something he’d never before shared with a fae. Even within his clan, few people knew how strong his Gift really was. Together, the two powers made him the perfect hunter—and assassin.

  “Thank you.” She pressed a kiss to his neck, accepting his disclosure as the offering it was. “Your secret’s safe with me. I give you my word.”

  “I know it is.”

  She ran her hands uneasily over her upper arms. “The fae underestimate you fada, don’t they? We think we’re the powerful ones, but you have Gifts we aren’t even aware of.”

  “Perhaps.” He took her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. She tensed and he gave her a little shake. “Cleia? Hell, you’re not afraid of me, are you? You must know I’d never harm you. Not now and not in a hundred years.”

  “Even if it was for the good of the clan? For Xavier?”

  His belly twisted. He released her and stepped back. He wasn’t angry; she’d only stated his own dilemma. But it hurt to hear her say it, to know she’d probably been thinking it all along.

  “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “You didn’t deserve that. You were good to me even that first day at your base, when you had every reason to hate me. I know if you—if you had to…it only would be because you believed there was no other way to save your people.”

  “Deus, Cleia.” Crossing the short space between them, he jerked her to him and crushed his mouth to hers, thrusting his tongue between her lips and tasting her with all the desperation in his heart.

  A low moan vibrated in her throat. The sizzle of energy that the pair of them always generated ignited into flame so that he had her backed against the willow, his cock rock-hard and grinding into the soft cradle of her abdomen before he realized what he was doing.

  He dragged his mouth from hers and buried his face in her neck. Licking her, nipping her, rubbing his skin against hers so that she was covered in his scent. Marking her as his in the most primitive way possible.

  Mine, said that inner voice.

  “I’d choose you, damn it,” he grated against the warmth of her throat. “That’s what fucking scares me.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Dion opened his eyes and squinted at the sunshine streaming in the east windows. It was going to be a beautiful day. Cleia and her clan would be delighted. Frigging sun. Sorrow rolled over him like a rogue wave, threatening to suck him so far under he’d never see daylight again.

  He swallowed and rolled onto his side.

  Beside him, Cleia stretched like a cat. A single ray of sunlight had found her—of course—to slant over her face like an exotic gold tattoo. He wrapped an arm around her. She was warm and supple and his. The animal rose up in him, urging him to drag her close, bind her so she’d never get free. To claim her in every way a male could a female.

  With an effort, he forced it under control and set his lips against the crook of her neck. “Morning.”

  “Mm,” she said without opening her eyes.

  He kissed his way up to her mouth, brushing across her full lips. Her lashes were a gold-tipped fringe against her cheeks. He pressed a kiss to each soft, delicate lid and they opened slowly.

  “I was still asleep,” she chided, but her mouth was curved.

  He rubbed his lips over hers, taking the imprint of her smile onto them. She flowed into his arms, opening to him. He tightened his grip on her, tasting her with leisurely sweeps of his tongue, until she was moaning low in her throat and the scent of her arousal filled his nostrils like an exotic perfume.

  When he lifted his head, she was flushed and heavy-eyed, her breath coming in sexy little gasps. He gave a slow, no doubt arrogant smile and ran his thumb over her kiss-swollen lower lip. She drew the digit into her mouth. He groaned as sensation shot to his groin. She took a couple of slow sucks before releasing it.

  She smiled at him. “Before I forget, I have a surprise for you.”

  “Sim?” He rubbed suggestively against her. He was all for surprises when they occurred in bed.

  She chuckled. “You’re insatiable.”

  “For you, yes.” He touched his mouth to hers in a kiss as light as a butterfly’s. “Te amo,” he surprised them both by saying.

  She stared at him, her eyes bright with tears. “Oh, Dion.” She gave him a hard hug. “I love you, too.”

  He rolled on top of her and cupped her face, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. “It’s not supposed to make you cry,” he said gruffly.

  “They’re happy tears.”

  He grunted, not so sure. But what was the point in making her admit it? He felt a curious ache behind the eyes himself. “So, what’s the surprise?”

  She scrutinized him and then shook her head. “I think I’ll make you wait.”

  “All right,” he said, his focus on something else right now. He traced her mouth with his tongue, soft and slow.

  Her lips clung to his for a moment and then she drew back. “Dion?” She stroked his hair back from his face. “Come to the ritual. Please? I promise nothing else will happen—unless you want it to. Truth.” She brought her palm between them to her heart.

  He opened his mouth to refuse, and then closed it. They both knew she couldn’t compel him to accept a mate bond. For one thing, he was too strong for her, and for another, every fae lord and lady on the planet would be gunning for her should she try to force a sacred bond. The fae took the right to free will seriously, however fond they were of trying to bend the rules.

  “All right,” he told her. “But only to watch—entendes?”

  “Of course—and thank you.”

  “Mmph.” He moved his mo
uth to her ear, nipping the lobe, then slid his tongue up the outer edge until he reached the rounded point at the top. Damn, he loved that point. It practically begged a man to play with it. And to his delight, he’d discovered that she was extra sensitive there. He drew it into his mouth and suckled strongly.

  The cadence of her breathing changed. Her hips lifted and he pressed them back down with his own, stilling her. Her head moved back and forth on the pillow. He allowed it and then caught the rounded tip between his lips again.

  Her throat worked. “Dion—”

  “Sim, querida?” He moved to her other ear and flicked the point with his tongue.

  “Come inside me.”

  He was fully erect now, his hard flesh cradled in the warm cave of her thighs. He lifted on his forearms, rubbing back and forth across her soft folds without entering her. She was slick and ready.

  “Put me there.”

  She reached between them and brought his tip to her entrance. He took over, pushing inside her with easy nudges until he was fully embedded. He stilled and they both inhaled.

  Cleia moved first, lifting her hips and clenching her tight, wet passage around him. Heat balled at the base of his spine, spread through his belly.

  His breath hissed out.

  He slid one arm under her shoulders and with the other hand, brushed her hair away from her face so that it spilled across the pillow in an iridescent waterfall. He flexed his hips and started to make love to her slowly, tenderly.

  “Amo-te,” he said against her throat. “Always and forever, meu amor.”

  She entwined her arms and legs around him so that he was caught in the sweetest net imaginable. He buried his face in her hair and breathed her in, achingly aware that this was the last time. The last time he’d inhale her tangy scent. The last time he’d have her long golden body under his. The last time he’d hear her cry out his name as she climaxed.

  She made a sound low in her throat. “Stars, that feels good. Just like that…please.”

  “Mm.” He loved her with long, deliberate strokes, prolonging the pleasure for both of them. Time stretched, spun into dreamlike strands. He had the curious sensation that he’d been making love to her for eons, would be making love to her until the world ended—and that was exactly how it should be.

  Her breath quickened and she ground her hips against his, sobbing out his name. “Please, Dion. I need—”

  “Sim, sim,” he soothed. “Acalme-te. I know what you need, querida.”

  He slid his hand between their bodies and swirled his fingers over her hot, swollen nub.

  “Ah, Goddess.” She dug her heels into his thighs, keening out her pleasure, and then she was convulsing around him, each heated contraction sending darts of ecstasy up his spine. His balls drew up and he raised onto his hands to pump into her hard and fast.

  Sparks burst behind his eyes and he emptied himself into her with a tortured groan. He slumped over her, his breath scraping in and out of his lungs.

  Deus. How was he going to live without her?

  When he lifted his head, she gave him a wobbly smile. A single tear slid down her cheek. His heart squeezed. He licked the glistening droplet, tasting the salt and regret.

  He rolled to one side and cradled her in his arms. Neither of them spoke.

  After a time, Dion slipped into sleep and when he awoke, his heart was a crushing weight in his chest.

  Even before he opened his eyes, he knew he was alone in the apartment.

  * * *

  He was stepping from the shower when someone hammered on the apartment door. “Dion?” called his sister’s voice. “It’s me. Are you in there?”

  He pulled on shorts and strode to the door. “Rosana? What the—”

  She was already inside the apartment. She gave him a quick hug and then danced away, turning in a slow circle as she took in her surroundings, mouth open.

  “Ohmigod. This is awesome. But look at the windows—how do they keep cool with all that sun? And the furniture.” She dropped onto a couch and ran her palm over the textured silk-and-linen fabric. “The sun fae sure are rich.”

  He folded his arms. “Rosana,” he said warningly. “Why are you here?”

  She slanted him a grin. “Queen Cleia invited us, of course.”

  “We?”

  “The clan. Didn’t she tell you? Not everyone is here—Rui said we had to leave some of the warriors to guard the babies and old people, but most everyone else came. He stayed home along with a few other men.”

  “Rui?” Dion repeated, dumbfounded. “Rui do Mar?”

  “Uh-huh. Everyone’s saying the old Rui is back. Well, all the old ones, that is.”

  Which meant anyone over age twenty, Dion reflected wryly.

  “He said that since you weren’t going to be back until today,” she continued, “and you weren’t allowed to communicate with us, then somebody had to guard the base.”

  “And Luis agreed?” Dion was still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that his old friend had taken charge.

  “Rui didn’t give him a choice.”

  Dion gave a snort of laughter. “That sounds like Rui, all right.”

  “Besides, Luis and Marina wanted to bring Xavier to the ritual. Queen Cleia thinks she can cure him, but she needs all of us to help.”

  “She does, does she?” He took a deep, calming breath. He should’ve known the woman wouldn’t give up. She was convinced her idea would work. “So you’re all here?”

  Rosana nodded. “There’s going to be a ball after the ritual and the best part is she had them make a dress for me. In jade, just like I wanted. See?” She rose on her toes and spun gracefully across the floor, dark curls flying, the pleated skirt swirling around her slim legs. “And I’m going to wear emeralds in my hair—won’t that be pretty?”

  “Certo,” he said automatically. “You’re pretty no matter what you wear, menina. But that’s a very nice dress.”

  “Thank you, my lord Dion.” She grasped the hem and inclined her wiry body in a dignified curtsey, making him grin in spite of his anger.

  As she bounced back upright, he walked to the windows overlooking the meadow where the ritual was to be held. Rosana was right; most of the Rock Run clan was there, the women in colorful blues or greens or purples, the men in darker hues but looking no less fine. An excited hum rose to the window as they were welcomed by the sun fae. The five tenentes had placed themselves around the perimeter to scan the crowd with cool, suspicious eyes, but the rest of the clan was being greeted by the sun fae.

  Darting among them like schools of cheerful little fish were the children, making friends, uncaring of whether they were fada or fae. He could see Isa and her family, and Marina and Luis with little Xavier wrapped in a light blanket and held securely in his father’s arms.

  This must be Cleia’s surprise.

  He squeezed the back of his neck, wondering what she had planned. He could order his people to return home, but Cleia was right. They needed to interact more with their nearest neighbors. Isolation had its own dangers. For example, the earth shifters would think twice before attacking Rock Run if they were allied with the sun fae.

  “C’mon.” Rosana skipped across the room and tugged his arm. “Everyone’s already gathering. The ritual starts at noon.”

  He glanced up at the sun. That wasn’t for another half an hour. “You go ahead. I’ll be down as soon as I’m dressed.”

  Cleia had left a simple but elegantly tailored outfit for him in the bathing room: black pants in a material that looked like leather but was surprisingly light and comfortable and a royal blue button-up shirt in a similar soft, light fabric. No shoes, but he wouldn’t have worn them anyway. He left the shirttail out and started for the door, which Rosana had left open in her rush to leave.

  A movement caught his eye. He spun around to see Tiago leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his expression hard.

  “Have you mated with her?” he demanded.

  Dion sup
pressed a sigh. “That’s none of your frigging business.”

  “No?” Tiago’s light eyes blazed. “She’s mine. I had her first.”

  “But I’m the one she wants,” Dion said, intentionally brutal. It was time his brother faced facts.

  “No.” Tiago pushed off the wall, hands fisted at his sides. “That’s a lie. She said she’d wait for me. That if I came back in seven years—”

  “That was before. We’re mates, Tiago.”

  As he said it, he realized with a shock that the tenuous connection running between him and Cleia had strengthened, another few strands woven into the emotional rope linking them. Lord, he’d had no idea how hard it was to deny the mate bond. He didn’t know how Rui had done it for two years. He could barely manage two days.

  “Damn you.” Tiago’s voice shook. “If I were older, I’d—”

  “What?” he replied in soft, dangerous tones. “What would you do?”

  “I’d take her from you, treat her how she should be treated. You don’t deserve her. She should be mine.”

  “Face it, irmão.” Dion shook his head, suddenly weary. “She’s not yours and never will be. But if it makes you feel any better, she’s not going to be mine, either.”

  “Why not?” Tiago raked him with a derisive look. “Are you like the old man? ‘Fae and fada don’t mix.’ She’s good enough to fuck, but not to mate?”

  Dion’s breath hissed out. He crossed the few steps between them and grabbed the front of Tiago’s shirt. “You know nothing about it,” he said, squeezing the words between clenched teeth. “Nothing. But you couldn’t be more wrong. I love her, damn you.”

  Tiago stared back, cheeks flushed, mouth set in a stubborn line. He held Dion’s gaze for a tense few seconds before breaking. His eyes dropped and he stood with his head bowed, chest heaving.

  Dion thrust Tiago from him. “Get the hell out of here.”

  He gave a noisy gulp before rushing from the room, head down.

  Dion exhaled harshly. At this rate, Tiago was going to go the way of Nic and Joaquim and he’d lose his last brother.