The Fall Of The King (Lightness Saga Book 3)

by Stacey Marie Brown

  The one thing with fae…we never had to worry about sexual transmitted diseases, and I had taken precautions right after I became King so I could not impregnate anyone. Otherwise they would come out of the woodwork, declaring they had the King’s love child. I was far too responsible and smarter than that.

  “I’ve wanted this for so long,” she purred. “But you were with Rez, and I could tell a man who would never cheat on his mistress.” She strolled over and grabbed my tie, slowly undoing the knot. “Do you know how much sexier it made you?”

  Her free hand moved to my pants, rubbing me. Fuck. The demon clawed my muscles, and I reached for her.

  “I can give you all you’ve been missing.” She tipped her face to mine as she unbuckled my pants. “Let me pleasure you, my liege. Wherever and whenever you desire.”

  Her voice grated on my nerves. “You will not become my mistress,” I growled as her hand slipped down my slacks. Weakness. I hated I was not above it, needing my ego stroked. But after Rez left me for another man, the dark dweller, their prowess notorious throughout the fae world, I couldn’t fight the need for validation.

  “Of course, my liege.” She smiled as though she did not believe my declaration for a moment. Fairies had huge egos about sex.

  Melanie was desperate to impress me, working me with more vigor than I’d expected. I groaned. She was talented, I’d give her that, but this was just sex. Nothing more.

  “I can do so much more if you let me.”

  “No talking.” I shoved her back onto my desk. Lust billowed off her at my dominance, her chest rising and falling with need. Her arms stretched to go around my neck, to pull my face to hers. “And no kissing.” I grabbed her wrist and flipped her around, bending her over my desk. Kissing was much too personal. It created an intimacy I neither desired nor wanted. Trust was something I did not give freely. I fully trusted only a handful of people, and she was not one of them.

  She made happy whimpers, gripping the ledge of my desk. I didn’t bother undressing her more, just slipped the fabric of her panties to the side.

  “Yes! Now, my liege!”

  I snarled in irritation, wanting her to shut up.

  I heard a noise outside my office, and my gaze drifted to the door. It was as though the Druid’s magic was seeping through, and I could feel her here with me. Energy blistered my chest, swelling it with rage. The feel of her magic bleeding into me from a room away snapped my demon free.

  With no hesitation or consideration, I slammed inside the fairy with all I had. She moaned so loud it rattled the furniture. “God, yes! You feel better than I imagined.”

  My hips moved with relentless speed, all my anger and frustration pounding into her. My vision shifted and I knew my demon was showing, making me very glad Melanie could not see me. My demon was frightening. People saw the version I let them see, the one scary enough to make the toughest bastard pee himself. I never let anyone see my true form, especially during sex. Not even Rez or Aisling.

  “Fuck me! Oh gods... my liege!” She started going crazy, bucking and moaning like she was possessed. And my demon could sense she was not faking one bit of it, rendering me even harder. But I was a fucking demon and a king. Those two might not equate to being exceptional at sex, but I had made a lot of women pass out from orgasms.

  My hand wanted to cover her mouth, to keep the deafening moans from leaving this room, but more of the Druid’s magic flooded into the room, pulsing with fury, knocking into my skin.

  The Druid was turned on and pissed about it.

  A smirk spread my mouth, and the tips of my daggered teeth dug into Melanie’s fragile skin. You feel that, Ms. Cathbad? How about this?

  My bones strained at my skin, hollowing my cheeks. The demon filled the room, taking up every inch of space and air, though it cared nothing for the woman below me. It shot its energy at the closed door as though it was trying to break it down.

  A voice deep in my mind told me to stop, but the demon was out too far. Every thump of the Druid’s magic against me made it want to lash out.

  I clutched the air fairy’s hips, pushing deeper and harder. Objects splintered and shattered around me. Melanie made cries of ultimate pleasure. Sweat poured down my chest and back, sticking my dress shirt to my skin, my release just starting to build up my spine. I could feel her tightening, ready to go over.

  “Noooo.” I growled, not ready for her to be done, which only egged me to reach mine faster. I hauled her off the desk, bending her all the way over, her hands still using the desk to keep herself up.

  “Fuuuuuck!” she wailed, hitting her climax.

  I did not stop; I was not close.

  Then I felt energy from outside the room. It almost seemed like a hand sliding down my chest, wrapping around my hips and slowly caressing down to the base of me, gripping me firmly. Fire sparked up my back, singeing all my muscles. A noise deep in my throat broke out of my mouth, and my body convulsed violently with release. I roared, my head falling backward. My vision blurred, and I lost track of all time and space. My legs gave way and I stumbled back into the wall, and to the floor. I sucked in clipped pulls of air, trying to calm my pounding heart.

  What the hell was that?

  My eyes cleared enough to see the girl was out cold, a lump on the ground. Similar to an incubus, a demon took, gorging on the energy of the act. Wolfing down the strength of the companion, but in doing so, it flooded them with endorphins, giving them the highest pleasure they could ever receive. Humans could actually die from it, overloading their system. Some lower fae could become brain dead.

  Shit.

  I peered down at myself, my tie loose and crooked, and my shirt soaking and crumpled. My pants were around my ankles, my dick exposed and glistening with sex and sweat. My demon was sedated enough, but I was livid. Mortified.

  Not only was I a mess, but I had utterly lost control.

  The Unseelie King did not lose self-control.

  “Sir?” Goran’s voice came through the door.

  “Yes. I’m fine,” I snapped, getting to my feet, yanking up my pants. My legs shook under my weight.

  Goran snorted. “I don’t doubt it, sir. No one in the vicinity would doubt. I think you forced lightning to hit the plane.”

  I growled. I hated everyone knew my business. No, I hadn’t thought of Travil, Goran, Jessica, or the pilot. It had all been meant for Ms. Cathbad. My throat vibrated with anger.

  “Just wanted to let you know we will be landing in thirty minutes.”

  “Thank you, Goran.” I went over to the stewardess, picking up her limp body. I carried her to the sofa, placed her on it, and covered her with a blanket. Melanie hummed happily, a grin spreading on her face. She would need to sleep for the rest of the day to replenish.

  Irritation at myself only grew the more I thought about my rashness. I walked into the shower attached to the bedroom next to my office. The warm water glided over my skin, washing away the evidence, and I scrubbed as if I wished to cleanse away the act and the aftermath I knew would result.

  Melanie would not settle for just the one time. Arrogant? Maybe, but it was the truth. I had learned this the hard way. The reason I never allowed myself to let the demon out was because most become addicted. Not settling for just a onetime experience.

  No matter how abrasively I scoured my skin, it did not rinse away the notion that not only had I lost restraint, but the element tipping me over the edge was an infuriating woman. And not the one I’d fucked.

  A tiny woman. A tenacious young Druid who had tried to kill me and almost succeeded, and who challenged and bucked me at every turn.

  She was my enemy and possessed strong skills in black magic. Kennedy’s sister or not, I understood she was too dangerous to keep alive.

  After she got the cauldron, I would end her. I had to.

  Chapter Eleven

  Fionna

  Fucking fae. Seriously. They were all arseholes, especially the one next to me. He acted reserved with me
since we got off the plane. Fine with me. The less we said to each other, the better.

  I kept my gaze out the window, watching the beautiful city pass by.

  The car swung around the corner, and the Prague castle exploded into view across the passenger side window, like a piece of art. My breath caught. The spires of the cathedral propelling up into the air past the gates of the castle stilled me in my seat. Believe me, we had an abundance of castles and manors in Ireland, but ours were a little more understated. The awe-inspiring design of the Gothic St. Vitus Cathedral clearly intended to amaze and perhaps intimidate its visitors. The spires reached for the sky as the enormous creamy yellow limestone building loomed over the people below.

  Goran swerved the town car down a cobble lane and pulled the black sedan up to our location. I stared at the luxurious hotel and could already sense the snobbery and elitism wafting off it. The intricate vaulted entrance of stone and iron welcomed its guests…but only the ones with money. The white stone grandeur was only steps away from the Prague Castle and came with a reputation for its famous restaurant. What a waste of money. I rolled my eyes, shaking my head.

  “I was not looking for your approval, Ms. Cathbad.” Lars voice sounded clipped, his mood cantankerous. He set the files he was reading between us and touched the bridge between his eyes.

  I was the one who had to listen to him have sex, the one who didn’t get off. I should be the grumpy one, not him.

  On the plane I had been so close to going to the bathroom to relieve myself of the throbbing between my legs, but no way would I admit him having sex could affect me that way. Instead I turned my music up louder, although it hadn’t stopped the feel of his magic pumping into the room, crawling across my body, as if his fingers were caressing my skin.

  My chest tightened, and I jerked my head out my window, pictures sweeping through my mind. It was natural to get turned on hearing someone have sex. Perfectly normal. No matter if the person disgusted you or not... right?

  The car door opened on Lars’s side, Travil holding it for his King. He and the other stewardess had also disappeared to the bathroom on the plane, which only added to the sexually charged atmosphere.

  Lars slid out gracefully, tugging at his cuffs and the bottom of his jacket when he stood, appearing every bit the smooth, composed, deadly, sexy King. Emphasis on deadly.

  He was back in control.

  I knew his type. Narcissistically clean, starchy, and anal. Probably had a sick and twisted sex fetish, too, because he was so uptight in his everyday life. Men like him annoyed the hell out of me. Give me a beer, a guy with a beard, hands that could build stuff, and crazy wild sex.

  Wrenching the door open, I got out as staff ran from the hotel, bustling around the car similar to planets revolving around their sun, Lars.

  This was going to be a long, painful few days…if he let me live. I was no fool. He would kill me sooner or later. Either way, I knew he’d try. Try. He would not succeed if I had anything to say about it.

  “Ms. Cathbad?” He motioned for me to join him. I grumbled to myself, his hand lightly touching my back to escort me into the hotel. I jerked away from the contact, and he dropped his hand.

  “Sir, Travil and I will check the premises.” Goran dipped his head toward Lars the moment we were safely inside, then he and Travil stepped back outside.

  Lars headed toward the hotel lobby desk. A woman greeted him before we even reached it.

  “My liege, we have your room ready. Everything is prepared exactly how you like it.” She spoke with a thick Czech accent, her blonde hair rolled into a firm bun, her curves fitting nicely into her hotel uniform.

  “Thank you, Lucia.” He took the card from her hand, and the bellmen whisked away our suitcases.

  “Anything you need, Majesty. Mikolas, the chef, is at your command. Day or night.”

  “Diva.” I coughed into my hand, causing Lucia to blink at me with confusion. She probably wondered if she heard me correctly, maybe awed I dare speak to the King in such a way.

  “Tell him I look forward to whatever he prepares me.” Lars grabbed my arm roughly, tugging me toward the elevator.

  “Lars?” A husky voice, thickly accented, drifted from behind us. Lars and I swiveled around.

  The woman was tall and runway thin, with shiny black hair so dark it had a hint of plum to it and cut in a long sleek bob that brushed her shoulders. Her dark eyes focused solely on the King, with undeniable interest. She was stunning, gorgeous, her features symmetrical in the way magazines adored. Her heels, tailored to fit, and her leather polka-dotted pencil skirt, cream blouse, and jacket screamed wealth and style. She held herself with elegance and superiority only someone born with money had. Romanian? Between her looks and accent, I was pretty sure she was from somewhere around there.

  “Margo,” Lars said. I could not gather how he felt about her because no emotion softened his features or his voice.

  “It is so amusing finding you here. Our paths keep crossing.” She leaned into him, air-kissing both his cheeks, getting as close to his lips as she could. She pulled back, peering at him through her lashes, then a smile broke her perfect red mouth. “What a wonderful coincidence. Are you stalking me, or is fate trying to tell us something?”

  “I do not think you would consider it stalking.” Lars eyebrow twitched, his statement direct.

  She let out a deep laugh, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “I think I’m owed at least a dinner, after you left me in the bar so abruptly in Zurich.”

  “Important business came up.”

  “Yes. For a man in your position, business always comes first. Something I understand.” She looked straight at him, giving no doubt what she wanted. It seemed exceptionally clear if they hadn’t once been lovers, she really wanted them to be. Lars as usual was an enigma, showing no cards.

  “Tonight, then?” She was confident as though he would never turn her down. To look at her, likely no one had ever said no to her. She was perfect for him, another uptight, snobby elitist with too much money and a diva complex. I had learned early to hold my head high no matter what my status was to others. I knew who I was. But I couldn’t help feeling like the help next to this woman. Her class and confidence sucked up the air and left me dangling like wet laundry.

  “My room?” She touched his arm. Expensive gems circling her fingers and wrist, but the jewels only highlighted the way her nails drifted and circled over his sleeve, full of promise. “I happen to have a bottle of Glenfiddich in my room.”

  Annoyance crackled along my shoulders. After the situation on the plane, I didn’t want to see or hear another woman cry out Lars’s name. She was probably kinky in bed. A screamer. My nose wrinkled, disgusted at the thought.

  “Tonight I am busy.” Lars leaned back, placing his hand on my back, pushing me forward. “Maybe some other time.”

  Margo’s gaze darted to me, as though she finally noticed I was there.

  “Oh, my apologies.” She sounded anything but apologetic. “I did not know you were here with someone.” Displeasure pressed her mouth shut. She looked me up and down, disgust at what she saw thinning her lids.

  “We’re not.” I stepped away from his touch.

  “She’s upset with me,” Lars whispered as he moved back to me, his palm driving me with force toward the elevator. “Have a good night, Margo.” He nodded at her.

  She stared after us, her face stone, but tiny blasts of black, deep red, and muddy green leaked out of her aura. Her dark penetrating eyes shot hateful daggers at us until the elevator doors shut.

  “What went wrong? You two seemed so perfect together.” Sarcasm laced my tone. The elevator started to the top floor.

  “You do not know me, Ms. Cathbad.” He stood stiffly beside me, tugging at his cuffs. “Do not presume to understand my needs or wants.”

  A shiver galloped over my shoulders and down my arms. Even his hinting at sex or his desires in bed had me stirring uncomfortably.

  “Trus
t is earned. And I have to be exceptionally careful with whom I give it to.”

  “So…magnificent Margo didn’t pass your trust test?”

  “Very few do.” He shot me a quick look.

  I snorted. “Margo seems like she would be quite high maintenance.”

  “No. She would be low maintenance.” His eyes met mine. “It would be merely sex. She is wealthy, independent, and not looking for anything to hold her down either. The ones who want more become difficult in my line of work.”

  Heat crawled up my neck. “Then why did you turn her down?”

  “Because.” He leaned over me, his mouth only an inch from mine. Heat lapped at my lips like a dog’s tongue. “I am stuck with a pain-in-the-ass Druid and have a job to do tonight. Business first, Ms. Cathbad. Always.”

  Ding. The elevators opened and Lars strutted out leaving me rolling in fury.

  Fuck him.

  Wait, let me rephrase that.

  Fae suck.

  Wait...

  “Coming, Ms. Cathbad?” He didn’t even glance over his shoulder. He was taunting me. Batting me around like a toy.

  If he thought I was similar every other woman or person he could play with because he could, he had another thing coming.

  ~~

  “Wow,” I whispered to myself as I stepped into the giant suite after him, trying not to let my mouth drop. It was probably one of the prettiest rooms I had ever been in. Okay, my idea of a hotel was above a pub, where you could hear rats scurrying in the walls. Doubt there were any rats here.

  Heavy with floral print, the main room was divided into a living space with fireplace, office, and an entertainment area. The ceiling curved, only adding to the baroque style of the room. An open door on the far wall led to a single bedroom. The four-poster bed was centered in the room, draped in rich textures and fabric. A bathroom with a spa bath and shower was connected.

  “Where are you sleeping? The sofa?” I came back out to the living room, where Lars stood at the office desk, reading over some papers.

  “Amusing, Ms. Cathbad.”