Faerykin

by Gia Blue

  FAERYKIN

  Lizzie Lynn Lee

  November 2011

  Published by i heart Smut. Copyright, Lizzie Lynn Lee. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.

  Lizzie Lynn Lee

  http://ilizzie.com

  Email

  lizzie@ilizzie.com

  Editor

  Marisa Chenery

  Cover Artist

  Lizzie Lynn Lee

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

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  FAERYKIN

  Chapter One

  How do you tell the man you’re dating you’re a faery?

  You don’t.

  And I didn’t. One sound reason: he might freak out. Secondly, he might think I’m a Fruit Loop shy of a full bowl. I’d worked so hard to convince him I’m not a run-of-the-mill nutcase, but sooner or later, he needed to know the truth. Especially with Prince Valerian’s hunters tracking my trail.

  My name is Aine Ravenbane. By my noble birthright, I am the destined queen of the Court of Midnight. And the man who sat across the dinner table is Jaime Walker. A human. Mortal. Also a homicide detective for Hammond PD.

  “I made five-cheese lasagna tonight.” I took the pan from the oven to let it cool for a couple of minutes before cutting it.

  Jaime was frisky. He was terminally cute when he looked like that, but he was quite a looker all around. Six-foot-one with a fit physique, naturally sun-kissed skin, brown hair and brown eyes. A good-natured smile perpetually etched on his lips. He loved my home cooked meals, since his diet mainly consisted of ramen and packaged macaroni and cheese before he met me. I don’t know how he kept his athletic figure eating junk food all the time. Human metabolism isn’t like faeries.

  “You made it from scratch?” he asked.

  “From scratch,” I echoed proudly. “Semolina flour noodle. Real Romano cheese and San Marzano tomatoes for the sauce. I got the recipe from Mrs. Ricci next door.” I drizzled the homemade vinaigrette on the bed of lettuce and plated them. He was ready with his fork and knife when I served him the salad. I poured him some water, then cut the lasagna from the pan. He regarded me with an appreciative look when I put the lasagna plate in front of him.

  He abandoned the salad. It seemed he was never a big fan of rabbit food. “Looks delicious. Thank you.”

  I preened. I wished I could make Jaime more excited about me than some fattening Italian grease.

  He took a bite and closed his eyes.

  Okay, the man really loved my cooking.

  When he opened them, those big gorgeous eyes of his gazed at me with adoration. “You don’t have to do this every night. I’m perfectly happy with a grilled cheese sandwich or to order out.”

  “I wanted to. Plus it gives me something to do during the day.” I settled next to him and dug in to my plate, watching him eat.

  Actually, Jaime wasn’t really my lover. Yet. I was working on it. I had been living in his white picket fence house in the heart of Hammond, a small town in Indiana, for the past two months. I did his laundry, cooked him dinner, took care of the yard and planted some pansies in the flowerbed. I was pretty much doing a wife’s duty, except the bed part. Even though he was only twenty-nine years old, Jaime was an old-fashioned kind of guy. I didn’t know much about the story of his life before, but it seemed Jaime preferred sex after both parties had put a ring on each other’s finger. We faerykin preferred sex after a nice hearty meal. To us, sex is a necessity. Like breathing or eating. Humans had different rules apparently. And in my case, I was a pent-up, ticking sex bomb ready to explode.

  You see, I’m a virgin.

  I’m only twenty-three years old, still considered a youngling to my people. When our kin reach their coming of age we go to a mating festival in Faeryville, find a bedmate or two and fuck each other’s brains out until morning. I couldn’t do that on account I was the heir of the Court of Midnight’s throne and had been betrothed to Valerian de Airemm since I was five. Valerian is my first cousin. He has more than two hundred consorts in his harem, and he’s as mean as hell. He’s also very beautiful with a tall, toned, imposing stature. But since he was a dick that just made him a bigger dick. Valerian was everything you’d expect from a fae lord. Arrogant. Cold. Ambitious.

  My king father, Lugh Ravenbane, was murdered by an assassin when I was in my mother’s womb. Rumor had it the killer was sent by Valerian himself in order to take over the Court of Midnight. Valerian ruled the Court of Light with an iron fist. He usurped the throne with a knife he buried in his own father’s back. His ambition was to unite both courts and reign over the faery realm unchallenged. He was like Hitler, only much prettier.

  And through his amazing web of dickery, he used the regent’s influence to force my mother to agree to the dreaded betrothal. When I was little, I used to think I was the luckiest girl in the realm. What girl didn’t swoon over Valerian, the Prince of Light, with his angelic face and long, platinum blond hair? But I got over it when I learned the true him. He’d planned to wed me on my sixteenth birthday, the day I came of age. But a week before the ceremony my guardian, Graeme MacCuill, spirited me into the human realm. We lived from town to town, keeping a low profile, hiding from Valerian’s hunters.

  Alas, Graeme died from alcohol poisoning last year, stranding me alone in this world. Being on the run for years had taken its toll on my guardian. Booze was Graeme’s salvation. Even though he was a full-blooded fae with all the perks and magic, apparently, if you drown your body with that much alcohol, you’d still be dead.

  I tried to fend for myself as best as I could. I wasn’t accustomed to hard labor, but I did what I had to. I worked a bunch of dead-end jobs and never stayed more than a few months in one place. On a couple of desperate occasions I resorted to stealing to buy food and room for the night. That was when I met Jaime. Well, it wasn’t exactly “met” on good terms. He arrested me when I drove a stolen vehicle. It was his car. That day I was more moronic than usual and swiped an unlocked red sedan from a 7-Eleven parking lot. I didn’t mean to sell it or anything. Not that I knew some skeevy guys who fenced stolen stuff. I just wanted to drive it somewhere and have a nice, warm place to sleep. I was broke, hungry and utterly tired.

  I told Jaime I’d suffered amnesia and didn’t remember anything but my own name.

  Aine.

  I didn’t give him my family name. Not that he was going to believe me, anyway. The name Ravenbane was uncommon to humans and mostly existed in the geek forums on the internet. I spent two nights in Hammond PD’s jail before Jaime took pity on me. Nobody was going to bail me out. Plus, I didn’t exist in any system. Jaime gave me a room in his house and told me I could stay until he could look further into my amnesia case. My stealing attempt was forgiven.

  I should have left Hammond a few days after that. I didn’t. For o
nce, I liked it there. I was tired of being constantly on the run. And I liked Jaime a lot. Okay, I might be in love with him. He was kind, funny and always treated me with respect. He did all those nice things, because he wanted to help me out of the goodness of his heart, not because he wanted to get into my panties. Unlike other men I’d met so far.

  As a fae princess, my beauty enchants everybody who sets eyes on me. My white-blonde hair shines like moonlight. My eyes are the color of precious sapphires. And my pale, alabaster skin is flawless and glows subtly. Some people often wondered if I were really human or a breathing, walking porcelain doll. When I was in jail, Jaime had to put me in a separate cell, because I stirred a riot from all the other inmates. The other cops always found excuses to linger near my cell, just to get a glimpse of me. I knew Jaime was scorned by his coworkers when he dropped the charges and offered me a place to stay. They thought it was his way of scheming into my pants.

  They were mistaken.

  Besides, I didn’t mind if he did. Because now I had to scheme my way into his pants.

  I really, really wanted to bed this man. Fuck his brains out, as the locals would say.

  Jaime demolished his food in less than ten minutes. “Dinner is excellent, Aine. You’re so good at cooking. Dad would love you if he were still around.”

  Jaime’s dad had been the Hammond PD chief of police. He had died last year in the line of duty, caught in the middle of a gang shootout. Jaime’s mother passed away from a rare illness when he was in kindergarten. Now it was only Jaime living in this big family house that desperately needed a woman’s touch. Until I came along.

  “I’d have loved to meet your dad,” I said sincerely.

  From the stories Jaime had told me, his dad sounded like a nice, jolly guy to be around. Humans forged a closer bond with their children than faerykin. I called my mother “my lady” and we never exchanged more than ten words each time she summoned me to her palace. My father had never made my mother his queen, only a consort. Since I was his only heir, I got to live in the Midnight Palace right after I was born. As a consort, my mother wasn’t allowed to nurse or raise a royal heir. The regent of Five, a pantheon of dukes and duchesses, was appointed to rule on my behalf until I came of age and could be crowned as the Queen of the Court of Midnight. I hated it there. Everyone I met was either stiff-assed or a brown-noser. I liked humans and the human world better. Sure, there were some jerks and assholes, but most I’ve met were good, decent people. Especially Jaime.

  “He would have adored you.” Jaime wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Dad always wanted a daughter. He bought a pink teddy bear when Mom was in the hospital, thinking she was having a baby girl.”

  I leaned closer. “Do you adore me?”

  His lush brows arched. “You know I do.”

  “But you won’t sleep with me.” Heaven and stars, just how many times had I baited him into my bed, but he wouldn’t take it.

  “Aine. I promised you I’d help you. I did all this not because I want to sleep with you.”

  “But I want to sleep with you.”

  Jaime wrung his hands desperately. “We’ve been over this. You don’t remember who you are and you look sixteen to me. The last thing I want after we’ve slept together is your memory coming back and realizing you’re a minor. I could get arrested for it and go to jail.”

  “I don’t look sixteen,” I argued. Faerykin didn’t mature the way humans did. There was no old-looking fae in the faery realm. Prince Valerian was close to seven hundred years old, but he looked twenty-five.

  Jaime shrugged. “Seventeen.”

  “I’m in my early twenties.”

  “How do you know? You have amnesia.”

  “I just know. Instinct.”

  Jaime shook his head. “I can’t take a chance on instinct. I prefer to wait for a few more years.”

  My eyes wanted to jump out of their sockets. I couldn’t wait that long. Seven sexless years since I came of age was more than a healthy fae like me could take. If I had to wait until Jaime deemed I was ripe enough to be fucked, I was afraid I would replace him with a cucumber or zucchini.

  Before I met Jaime, I had contemplated losing my virginity with a few candidates. I had been taught pillow art by my governess to prepare me for my wedding night. Like any fae maiden, bedding was an exciting and anticipated lesson. But each time I thought of who I would bed, it put a damper on my lessons. I thought of Prince Valerian and his cold, haughty eyes. He didn’t love me. He could never love anyone. To him, I was nothing but his trophy of his final conquest.

  When I was spirited into the human realm, I found a wonderful thing called the internet. Of course, like the majority of people who surfed it, I was immediately hooked on porn. There were so many types of bed sport I’d never imagined. From the ordinary to what they called kinky. Of course, I wanted to try some. Or all. Maybe not the hardcore ones, but hey, I’m open-minded. I didn’t understand how some people got a kick from being whipped as foreplay, but if they did it, there must be some good in it, right?

  Graeme MacCuill didn’t parent me as I bloomed into adulthood. He fed me and protected me from Prince Valerian’s hunters, but other than that, I was left to my own devices. After all, I was his princess and my wish was his command.

  When I decided it was time for me to bed a man, he fetched me a strapping young lad from a nearby construction site. That didn’t work out. The man couldn’t perform on account he was scared as shit after being kidnapped by Graeme. My guardian had been seven feet tall, three hundred pounds of pure muscles and couldn’t hide his wings as well as I did.

  I went to a singles bar on my second attempt and had no difficulties snagging a tall and handsome one among the crowds. That was when I learned not all large, muscular guys had big wienies. It shouldn’t have mattered. At that time, I felt it was such a letdown after watching so many porn movies where the studs were hung and relentless.

  After that, I never managed to find someone who I felt was right to deflower my most prized possession. Too big. Too chatty. Too boring. Too clueless. Maybe I was picky. But it was my virginity and I strongly believed the first time should be magical.

  Then I met Jaime.

  He was perfect.

  My heart beat faster when he smiled. My skin was feverish, aching for his touch whenever he was near. He appeared in many of my dreams, leaving me unfulfilled and longing.

  Jaime was the one for me.

  I wouldn’t care if he had a big wienie or not, if he were experienced or not. I just wanted to be with him. To become one with him. Not a day went by that I wasn’t thinking of living the good ole American apple pie life with him, happily ever after. I also loved the sound of Mrs. Walker. I thought it would suit me well.

  Too bad he was such a gentleman.

  I rose from the seat, then took his plate and mine to the sink. “I made a chocolate cake for dessert.”

  Jaime blinked. “Are you mad at me?”

  “Me?” I laughed. “Heavens no. I’m not giving up yet. I have many plans.”

  “Which are?”

  “I’m not going to tell you that.” I opened the fridge and took out the triple layer chocolate mousse cake I had labored all day on making. I carved two big chucks and put them on a fancy plate. Jaime looked at me expectantly when I served it.

  “Homemade?”

  “From scratch.” I sat on his lap and cut a piece of the cake. “Choo-choo,” I said, offering it to him.

  Jaime gave me such a look.

  “It’s uber delicious.”

  He ate it. “Mmm.”

  “Good?”

  He nodded.

  “Let me have a taste.” I held his face and kissed him. I licked his lips, teeth and the roof of his mouth. Nom nom. I broke the kiss. “Another bite?”

  Jaime kissed me. Hard. Greedy and hot. He was such a good kisser. Burned me inside out. But kissing was as far as Jamie wanted to go. He never groped me. Never touched me in other places, even when I begged him t
o. When things got heated between us, Jaime bailed out by excusing himself to the bathroom. Usually, he took a cold shower. But on many occasions I knew he jacked off into the toilet.

  I dropped the fork and wound my arms around his neck, kissing him deeply. I pressed my breasts against his shirt-clad chest. I rarely wore a bra when he was home.

  Jaime moaned as I kissed him French style. His hands hovered at the small of my back.

  Suddenly, he ended the kiss. His breath labored. Lust blazed in his eyes. “W-we have to stop.”

  “Just one more kiss.”

  “N-no. You tempt me.”

  Well, that was the point. “Jaime!”

  “Sorry, Aine.” Jaime shoved me aside and hurried to the bathroom.

  I sighed. Not again.

  I padded across the kitchen and eavesdropped at the door. The shower was running.

  Oh, Jaime. When are you going to stop doing this silly thing?

  I slumped on the floor. My pussy ached, I wanted to touch myself to completion.

  One of these days he wouldn’t be able to resist me.

  One of these days I would make him mine.

  I would.

  I fucking would.

  Chapter Two

  I was selecting a perfect piece of pork tenderloin for dinner when my iPhone alerted me I had incoming mail. I checked it out. It was a Facebook notification. Detective Meyer, Jaime’s partner, just poked me and posted a silly picture on my wall. Jaime had given me the phone and opened a Facebook account for me, so he could check on me during the day. Before, he had a compulsion of calling me at home and couldn’t concentrate at work. “Are you okay?” “Have you had lunch yet?” “What are you doing?” “Are you really, really okay?” I found his attention flattering. A little annoying, but flattering. Though if he just bedded me I don’t think he would have an obsession about what I was doing all the time.

  I quickly “liked” Meyer’s post and added a witty comment. Before I left this grocery store I bet the thread was going to grow five pages long. Almost all folks in Hammond PD friended me, including the chief himself. My wall was full of posts, comments, pokes and just about every silly thing they could do to vie for my attention. I don’t want to brag, but they all seemed to have an unhealthy obsession to know what I was doing, just like Jaime. Maybe because it was my fae nature. We had an unsettling effect on humans. Or maybe they were curious to see if Jaime had bedded me yet. I heard there was a poll going on at the station. Jaime was famous for being honest and squeaky clean. But men weren’t saints and everyone itched to find out about that.