by Sophie Oak
a little nest for her while he gathered wood for the fire.
She removed her boots and pants before wrapping up in the
blankets. He was never out of sight. After he started the fire, he’d
pulled out bread, some cheese, and what looked like beef jerky.
Meg’s stomach rumbled. She decided not to honor her New Year’s
Resolution to avoid meat and dairy.
Beck hadn’t touched a thing until she declared herself full, and
then he ate everything she hadn’t eaten.
He was such a puzzle to her, sweet one minute and completely
shut down the next.
“I need to know something,” he said quietly as he sat down across
from her.
Meg nodded, not trusting herself to speak. He was heartbreakingly
beautiful by firelight. The soft light of the fire delineated the lines of his face. His jaw was carved from granite, but his eyes were soft. He
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was a real, actual faery prince, and according to him, he was hers.
Even after the way he treated her this afternoon, she wanted nothing
more than to throw herself into his arms.
She never, ever learned.
“Did you leave a husband behind?” Beck asked. “Do you have
babies who wonder where their mama is?”
All she had to do was say yes, she realized. If she said yes, cried
prettily, and talked about her sweet babies, he might try to get her
home. She could say she had two, a boy and a girl. She could also tell
him about the husband she loved more than life itself.
“No,” she admitted quietly. “I’m alone.”
He seemed confused by the statement and moved to sit beside her.
He pulled the blanket up around her. Beck carefully placed his arm
around her shoulder. “Did your parents die before they could find a
husband for you?”
Meg laughed abruptly at the thought. Her parents couldn’t be in a
room together for more than two minutes before a war broke out.
They hadn’t even attended her wedding, much less tried to advise her
on who to marry. “No. My parents divorced when I was twelve. Mom
remarried roughly six months later. She married the guy she had been
having an affair with. Dad married his secretary, excuse me,
administrative assistant, two months after that. Neither one of them
wanted to deal with a teenage girl, so I got shuffled around. I’d stay
with Mom until she got tired of me, and then I’d get shoved off on
Dad. Casey, his ten-years-older-than-me wife, didn’t like me very
much. They both had new children with their new spouses. Needless
to say, everyone was happy when I left for college. So, to answer your
question, no, they didn’t bother to find me a husband.”
Beck’s eyes were dark in the firelight. There was an unmistakable
air of confusion in them. “What is divorce?”
It was Meg’s turn to be shocked. She studied him for a moment to
see if he was pulling her leg. “You really don’t know?”
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He shook his head. “I don’t understand your story, love. Your
parents did not die? They left each other and formed bonds with other
people? They had children with people who were not their spouse?”
“Well, they were at the time,” Meg tried to explain. “You don’t
have a way to dissolve a marriage?”
“No. Why would we have that?” Beck asked, his face showing no
signs of teasing. “Marriage is sacred.”
“Okay, how about if the husband abuses the wife? Is she supposed
to stay in the marriage?” Again, he looked blankly at her. “What if her
husband smacks her around? What if he cheats on her with the local
floozy? What if he calls her names and is generally unpleasant to be
around?”
Beck nodded, finally getting her point. “If this happened in a Fae
marriage, then the female would beat the male into submission. If she
is too small to beat him properly, one of the larger women of her
family would perform the task for her.”
“And the man just stands there for the beating?” Meg asked
incredulously.
“If he has any honor at all,” Beck replied with a frown. “If his
abuse of the wife continues, the males of her family would take care
of him. As I said before, the only way out of a Fae marriage is death,
but that can be arranged.”
Meg couldn’t help but smile. “I kind of wish those rules had been
in play when I got married.”
Beck turned her to look at him. His lips were turned down in a
scowl, and his eyes pinned her. “They were in play when you got
married, love. I assure you, our marriage was properly witnessed. I
signed the paperwork with the gnomes before we left.”
Meg went very still. “Marriage?”
“Yes, love, what did you think I was doing with you? I told you I
needed a bondmate. You’re my wife now, and there is no divorce.”
He said the word as though he found it distasteful.
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“I thought you were buying me,” Meg stammered, trying to wrap
her head around the fact that she had apparently gotten married, and
no one had bothered to tell her. She looked at Beck, a little panicked
at the thought. He was her husband? “You know, like a slave.”
“You have strange words, wife. I don’t know what a slave is, but
we’re married, and nothing is going to change that.” He took a deep
breath. “If you are angry with me for what I did today, you have my
permission to hit me. It might make you feel better. I can only
promise I won’t do it again. I was a little overwhelmed.”
An alarming thought struck her. She wondered if the whole
beating thing went both ways. “So if I step out of line, you’ll hit me?”
The faery looked extremely offended. “I would never beat you,
Meggie. It’s different for a man. We’re bigger. We could hurt you. I
know after what I did to you earlier you must think me a man of no
honor, but I would never, never beat my woman. I might put you over
my knee if I thought you were stepping out on me, but I would only
use my hand.”
“You would spank me?” It was supposed to come out as an
outraged question. It was supposed to show that she would never put
up with such a thing. Instead, it kind of came out as a breathless,
curious query. The thought of being put over his knee, completely
naked and open, and having that big hand smack her ass was really
stimulating. She thought about the one time she’d asked Michael to
spank her. She had been curious. He’d rolled his eyes and called her a
pervert. Beck might think the same thing.
“If I had no other choice, I would spank you,” Beck said grimly.
Meg nodded, trying not to think about how he would trace the line
of her spine while she was across his knee, open and vulnerable to
him. She turned back to the fire so he wouldn’t see how her cheeks
were flushed as she thought about how she would wait, anticipating
the blow, her pussy getting wet at the thought.
“You talked about marriage and the Fae rules being in play when
you got marrie
d. What did you mean if you weren’t talking about our
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marriage?” Beck asked quietly. There was suspicion in his voice, like
he already knew the answer.
It was an effective way to shut down her arousal. Thinking of
Michael Starke immediately made her think of humiliation. Despite
his assertion that she was a pervert, humiliation wasn’t her thing. “I
was married once. We got a divorce.”
“He allowed you to get away from him?”
Meg laughed, but it was a bitter sound. “Honey, he packed my
bags and shoved me to the street. He literally did that. He needed me
out of the apartment before his new girlfriend showed up. She was a
nurse. She made more money than I did, so she could take better care
of him than I could.”
“What?” Beck was on his feet, his hand rubbing his head as he
paced. “He forced you to support him? What kind of a man was he?”
The truth was she was tired of being pissed off about the divorce.
Somehow the events of the last twenty-four hours made her rage at a
marriage gone bad seem a small thing. Beck’s whole life had been
destroyed. At least Michael had the good sense to divorce her before
they had kids. It had been a mistake, and it was past time to move on.
“He was a young man. We were really young when we got married. I
was only twenty-two. I was twenty-five when we divorced two years
ago. We were just stupid kids trying to be grownups. I wanted a
family. He wanted to play Xbox and drink beer. It’s a typical
American story.”
Beck’s hair was long and flowed around his shoulders and down
his back. He’d taken it down after he’d gotten the fire going. It had
been an oddly erotic moment. His eyes had been on her, and she’d
watched as he brushed it out. Now, it was a silken blanket around his
body.
It was also a fire hazard. Meg held out her hand. “It was a long
time ago, Beck, and in a galaxy far, far away. Please come back over
here. I don’t want to have to put out your hair when it catches on
fire.”
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He looked back and seemed surprised that he hadn’t caught that
himself. He sat back down. When she held open the blanket for him,
he moved close and wrapped it around the both of them.
“Sorry, love,” he whispered. “I just can’t imagine anyone letting
you get away.”
“You must have a very small imagination,” she said solemnly.
“I am not known for my creativity.” Beck frowned and stared at
the fire.
Meg laughed. “I was teasing you. You take things too literally.
Don’t give my ex another thought. I don’t intend to. He was an
asshole.”
Dark eyebrows drew together. “You sound so much like Dante.
Are you sure you’re not from the Vampire plane? They are entirely
obsessed with anuses, too. I don’t get it.”
Meg giggled and let her head drop to his shoulder. She would
have immediately brought it back up, but his hand was there,
smoothing her hair back, holding her close. His arms went around her.
He was so warm. She gave in and snuggled closer. He was a furnace.
“I would like very much to make love to you, Meggie,” Beck said,
his voice low and painstakingly gentle. The hand in her hair was
gentle, too, unlike the way he’d fisted her hair in the arena. He
touched her like she was made of glass.
“How very polite.” Meg thought about what Dante had said. She
didn’t want a polite bargain. She wanted his passion.
It didn’t matter. She would be gone in a day or two. She hadn’t
changed her mind about that. Even though he promised not to treat
her the way he had before, she knew it was inevitable that he would.
Before all of this happened, Meg had been giving an enormous
amount of thought to her sex life. It had been pointless and futile up
until now. The two men she had gone to bed with before marrying
Michael had been utterly boring, and she’d just wanted to get it over
with. Michael had been the same way. It was why she’d started
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exploring Dominance and submission in the first place. She hadn’t
gotten past the internet, but she’d ordered some books on the subject.
Being out in the arena with Beck had been a revelation. It was the
single most erotic experience of her life, and he rejected her
afterward. He thought she was just as much a pervert as Michael did,
and she refused to be trapped in another marriage where her husband
didn’t really want her. But she was stuck for now. Why not enjoy
what he could give her? She had just taken her birth control shot
before she’d gotten kidnapped. Why not enjoy a little sex? Even if it
wasn’t as mind-blowing as before, it would be better than anything
she’d had on the Earth plane. She would just have to make sure she
came off as vanilla as possible so he didn’t get angry with her again.
She let her hand find his sculpted chest. “All right.”
He sighed, and she felt that strange connection between them open
slightly. It tingled there on the edges of her consciousness, and she
opened eagerly to it. She could feel his arousal. She could feel how
much he wanted her. It made her feel special and desirable. He closed
it down immediately. Meg was alone again.
“Sorry.” He eased her onto her back. “I have to get used to the
bond. It’s particularly strong when we make love. I promise I won’t
flood you with it again.”
“I didn’t mind,” she said as he touched her lips with his. It was a
gentle touch, a light melding of lips. She found it slightly frustrating.
“Of course you did,” he murmured as he kissed her, a little harder
this time.
He pressed his mouth over hers. His tongue requested access. Meg
allowed herself to soften beneath him, and his tongue lazily plunged
in. He explored her mouth, mating his tongue to hers, devouring her
softly. His hands gently framed her face as he stroked her hair.
Meg shuddered as he moved from her mouth to her neck. He was
so big against her. He tried to keep his weight off her, but she wanted
to be crushed under it. She wanted him to hold her down or tie her up.
She couldn’t ask him to do that. He would probably turn away from in
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disgust, but she wanted it so badly. “I’m so cold. Won’t you cover
me? I might be warm if you lay on top of me.”
He wasn’t able to completely close off the surge of desire her
request brought out in him. He wanted to be on top of her. He wanted
her helpless underneath him. Meg felt it briefly before he shut it off.
“You don’t think I’m too big for you? I don’t want you cold. Let me
get undressed first.”
He got out from under the covers and quickly shucked his clothes.
Meg watched, her mouth watering, as his big, strong body was
revealed by firelight. He was all steel and smooth muscles. The
wounds he had taken in the arena had closed and were healing. His
&nbs
p; body, he’d explained earlier, could take a lot of damage and repaired
itself quickly. The slight pinkness of the healing flesh didn’t detract
from his perfection. He really was a work of art. Michelangelo would
have been proud to sculpt that body. And then there was his cock. She
had more time to study it now that he wasn’t shoving it at her face. It
was big and thick, and pointing straight up, reaching his belly button.
His balls were heavy and taut against his body. Even in the firelight,
she could tell his cock was so hard it was purple.
How had that ever fit in her mouth? That dark voice from her
fantasies reminded her. That monster cock had fit because Beck had
made sure it fit. Beck had just shoved and pushed until she’d
accommodated him.
“Love, let me help you.” He knelt down and reached for the hem
of her shirt.
The linen shirt was all she was wearing. It was the only protection
she had. If he ordered her to take it off, she would throw the damn
thing into the fire. He didn’t, and she was reluctant. He’d seemed to
like her body before, but the arena had changed that. If he ordered
her, she would know that he wanted her. It would take away all her
doubt.
He pulled the shirt over her head, and she fought not to cover
herself. She also sought that connection between the two of them. It
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would tell her what he was feeling. Now that she’d had that
connection with him, being without it made her feel alone. She tried
to brush her thoughts against his, requesting the contact.
“Shhh,” he whispered, getting under the covers with her. He
pulled her into his arms. “Don’t be scared, love. I won’t hurt you. I’ll
be gentle.”
She gritted her teeth. He’d gotten the message, but he wasn’t very
literate yet. He thought she was afraid, not frustrated and nervous.
“Just kiss me.” She could lose herself in his kisses. The man knew
how to kiss.
He smiled, his generous lips tugging up before he planted them on
her. He kissed her as he covered her with his hard body. They met,
skin to skin. Meg loved the way he pressed her into the ground. It
wasn’t the most comfortable she’d ever been, but something about
being held down did it for her. She let her hands drift above her head
