Fairyville

by Emma Holly

  "Your guests are rude," he said, "and obviously idiots."

  "Yeah, well, they were invited."

  He did kiss her then, and it was hot and angry and absolutely spine-melting. She knew she should have been madder than she was. Only a masochist would let him start this up with her again, especially with the reminder of a very similar mistake getting luck)' in her guest bathroom. But when he kissed her with those heated satin lips, when he wrapped that incredible energy of his around her, her resistance shredded like tissue.

  The things he did with his tongue, the way he downright fucked her with it, made her moan with hunger and grab his back. The arm he'd wrapped around her waist felt like it was all that held her up, but—oh—did it feel good doing it! He was pressing her against all his hardness—chest, groin, thighs—and if she hadn't been so weak-kneed from his exploration of her mouth, she'd have climbed high enough to rub more than her belly button against his target zone. The size and heat of his erection went to her head. It was a freaking python, and she wanted every inch of it. When he finally released her lips, the room was spinning.

  "You're wearing your sneakers on my bed," she said faintly.

  "Zoe." He made her name a synonym for exasperation. "Exactly how long do I have to kiss you before you forget to pay attention to things like that?"

  Her heart was pounding hard enough to shake her breasts, her pussy aching with the need he'd twisted into something truly ferocious. Still, she tried to gather her pride. "I need more than kisses to forget how you left me hanging earlier."

  He shook her again, his hands so large a tremor that wasn't exactly fear ran across her shoulders in an aftershock. Oh, she so didn't want to know he could get to her in more ways than he already had.

  "I care about you Zoe," he said. "Whatever else you doubt, don't doubt that."

  "I thought you didn't want to talk. I thought you wanted to show me." She tossed her head, and her hair fell out of its pins in a curling mass. What she could see of Magnus's face went grim.

  "Oh, I'm going to show you, Zoe. I'm going to show you until you scream."

  "Yeah?" she said. "You've had two years to show me. All I'm hearing now are more words."

  He made a noise like a growl, which streaked straight from her ears to her sex. Then, with a swiftness that left no room for protest, he ripped her T-shirt up her body, over her head, and down her arms. Zoe was left gasping into her fallen hair. By the time she got it behind her again, Magnus's big, hot hands were covering her breasts. Her body stilled as he squeezed the small rounded flesh, whatever snippy retort she'd meant to fling forgotten in the pleasure of his energy tingling down the nerves that led from her nipples.

  "So beautiful," he said in a tone of awe as he caressed her. "So fucking beautiful."

  Her pussy creamed for him, overrunning her tender folds and ruining her fresh panties. Sadly, her pride wasn't any harder to dissolve.

  "Magnus," she sighed, her voice all breath.

  He lifted his gaze for one tight-wired, glittering perusal of her face before his seal-black lashes dipped again. He squeezed her nipples between his fingers, hard enough to make them pulse sharply. Then he bent to lick one tip slowly. His tongue felt like it was painting her in fire and ice, tickling, teasing, until every molecule of air sighed out of her lungs.

  "Sighs are good," he breathed into her shivering flesh, "but I think you can do better than that for me."

  She did better as soon as his mouth covered one aching peak. That wrenched a whimper from her throat. He was too damn good at this. She'd always been sensitive, but what he and his energy did to her was unreal. He rolled her nipple against his teeth and licked it, first around the areola and then the tip. He sucked her breasts like they were perfect, and he'd never tasted anything so good. His breath rushed damply against her skin as he mounded both within the circles of his hands, turning from one breast to the other as if he couldn't settle on his favorite. The greedy sounds he made had her squirming uncontrollably. Finally, he flicked her so quickly with the point of his tongue that her clit twitched wildly with sympathy.

  The sensation almost tumbled into orgasm.

  "My God, you're sexy," he said, breaking free to gasp and lower her to the covers. Since every muscle she possessed was in the process of going limp, his timing couldn't have been better.

  He really was enough to make a woman lose her head, and Zoe was swiftly losing interest in keeping hers. Moaning, she thrust her hands into his thick black hair.

  Her clutching him closer seemed to be his signal to advance. His right hand left her breast. She heard buttons popping and a zipper's rasp—his zipper. He grunted as he worked to tear off his shirt and jeans without releasing her.

  Her heart rate jumped into higher gear. The sound of him wrestling from his clothes had to be the best thing she'd heard all night.

  Determined to meet him on the other side of naked, she wriggled out of her panties. He paused for a second when he realized what she was doing, then helped her pull them down her legs, his suckling now twice as strong as before. He was taking more of her in his mouth, was scraping her with the wider flat of his tongue.

  Yes, she thought, arching helplessly toward him. This is more like it. She was on the edge again, so close to coming that the suspense was like a pre-climax.

  The only problem was that her eagerness had discombobulated him. His funny yellow high-tops hung him up enough to curse against her breast. It seemed he'd forgotten to remove them before his jeans. Grinning at this sign that he was human and not a perfect sex machine, she slid one hand from its grip on his hair to his bare shoulder. She'd intended the caress to reassure Mm that he could take his time, but as soon as that smooth warm skin met her palm, she couldn't resist touching more.

  Oh, this was a good male back. This was shifting muscle and hardness. This was velvet skin and big, strong ribs that expanded to fill his lungs. She slid her fingertips down his spine with a purr of pleasure, stopping only when she reached the rounded muscles of his clenching butt.

  She needed both hands to admire that.

  "Zoe," he said with a throatiness that delighted her. "You're distracting me."

  "Mm," she said, not at all apologetic. "You feel so good."

  She pulled his kiss up to her mouth again. He groaned when he obeyed her urging, his tongue tangling with hers, his hand moving down the length of her side. He'd been hovering over her, but now his palm flattened on the mattress as he eased his lower body down. Both his legs straddled one of hers, their hair and muscle a stark reminder of his maleness. She jerked when the heat of his erection met her thigh. He was naked. And huge. And throbbing like half his blood had run to his cock. He settled his balls against her carefully, and the intimacy of that one movement made her sigh blissfully.

  "Oh, boy," she said. "Am I ready for you!"

  His hand cruised up her body to mold her breast again, then changed direction to drag a trail of fire down her front. She could tell he was up against the edge of craziness with her. He was breathing like a steam train, and, God, his aura was strong. She felt like he was touching her even after his hand had passed.

  Where his caress was headed was just as good. His fingers combed through her pubic curls, sliding deep between her legs to cover all her mound. That big hand of his was enough to make any female feel small. Maybe he liked the contrast, too, because first cupping squeeze drew a groan from him.

  "You have no idea," he said, the words a match rasping on stone, "how long I've been ready for you."

  His hand trembled when he said it, but he was lost in shadow above her. She wanted to believe him so much it hurt.

  "Turn on the light," she said, giving in to the urge. "I need to see your face when you tell me something like that."

  He hesitated, then reached past her for the bedside lamp. The bulb wasn't bright, but he took a moment to lift his head. For a second, all that hit her was how freaking beautiful he was. And then she saw. His eyes were sheened with tears, honest-
to-goodness, ready-to-spill-over tears.

  He was telling the truth. He had been yearning for her.

  A shock ran through her to see it, along with wonder that he could feel so much without her knowing it.

  "Why?" she asked, her hand rising to his cheek. The bruise from his fall was fading, the skin around it only slightly hot. "Why would you wait so long to be with me if you felt like this?"

  He closed his eyes. "Please don't ask me that. Please just trust that I want you to be happy."

  "Magnus…"

  "Please." He kissed her, his lips as gentle as a dream on hers. His hand moved back to cup her pubis. The length of his fingers pressed just a little between her lips. Knowing how wet she was made this a tad embarrassing, but his hold felt oddly protective. "Please trust me."

  She couldn't trust him, not quite, but she also couldn't turn away. If it was true… If he did care for her…

  She gave her head a little shake. It would have been better if he hadn't turned serious. She could have kept her guard up, could have stayed just a bit angry.

  He's going to break my heart, she thought, but she wrapped her arms around him anyway.

  Quite possibly Magnus had been insane when he convinced himself to crash Zoe's party. He'd spent an hour pacing down his house's long window, fuming about her old boyfriend. Not once had he tried to calm himself. Not once had he asked the Will-Be for help. Decisions made under those conditions were bound to be rash, but he hadn't given a damn. He couldn't leave his beloved alone with two men, not when one of them was a changeling who knew more about what pleasured her than Magnus did.

  Now he wondered what his rashness had gotten him into. Yes, it was wonderful to feel her hold him and to be spoken to sweetly again, but neither of these boons resolved anything.

  The only promise he could give her was pleasure. The knowledge that she longed for more than pleasure nearly broke his heart. Of course, he couldn't doubt she wanted what he could offer. Her body wept for it, the pearly sleekness running into his cupping palm. Praying physical gratification would be enough, he returned his mouth to her small, ripe breasts—gentle, tender—and slid one careful finger into her channel.

  She moaned for him, her spine rolling strongly with arousal, her hips coming up to drive him deeper. She was soft inside, was wet and swollen and tight. The feel of her was more than Magnus's fairy instincts could tolerate. Swollen to its limit, pain speared through his cock with its next hard throb. He clenched his jaw and ignored it. He couldn't risk sliding inside her even for a minute; other parts of her, but not this, not with her so blessedly ready to love him, not with her precious heart swimming in her eyes. He would spill himself the instant she came, and from the hungry kitten noises she was making, that wasn't going to be long.

  "Shh," he whispered around her nipple. "Let's try a soft climax first."

  He moved his finger inside her, searching blindly for the places where her energy burned strongest. Those would be nerve centers. He could feed his aura into them until the pleasure that sang through her swelled to a symphony.

  She squirmed as he found the first bright spot, a sound of yearning breaking in her throat. Her nails dug into his back in a sort of panic. She probably wanted him to massage her clit, but he resisted the obvious. His intent wasn't to tease her, only to ease her into what he hoped would be a long, hot night of climaxes. With that in mind, he pressed a second finger inside her. The fit was snug enough to make him grit his teeth. God, what she'd feel like around him, creaming and twitching like she was now! Encouraged by her responsiveness, he sent a tendril of energy to connect what his mouth was doing at her breast to what his hand was doing in her pussy.

  He knew the moment the circuit closed, because Zoe groaned and twisted her hips like she meant to screw his fingers right off his hand.

  Yes, he thought, and as easy as that her orgasm broke.

  She went for a good half minute, gasping for air as he coaxed her pleasure out and out. Her clear surprise at how strong the climax was delighted him. He smiled against her flushing breast, stroking her through her shudders, optimism spreading through him like sunshine. He could do this. They could do this. It was going to be all right. As her body calmed, he released her breast to whisper in her ear.

  "How about another, love? I believe you mentioned you've got some lost time to make up for."

  Lost time didn't begin to cover what Zoe had to make up for. She'd managed not to scream so far, but it had been close. She shook with pleasure, great, earth-shaking quakes as Magnus brought her to one aching peak after another. After so many orgasms, her need should have been exhausted, but it only built. Magnus's touch was magic: sweet and slow and unbelievably intense. He paid attention to everything, learning what she liked with a swiftness that was frightening. She was panting too hard to kiss him except in glances, but every part of him tasted good.

  He jerked when she nipped the muscle of his bicep, and she knew she simply had to get him under her.

  "It's time to finish this," she said, trying to push his big, beautiful body back onto the sheets. "I think I've still got a box of condoms in the bedside drawer."

  He caught her wrist before she could check. "Touch me while I'm bare. I want your hand on my skin."

  The plea halted her. Through all their play, he'd evaded her touches there, pleasuring her but taking little in return. She'd thought it might be because he had a quick trigger, but perhaps he simply liked to draw his lovemaking out. Perhaps restraining his own release was the secret to his sexual feats.

  "Just my hand?" she asked slyly.

  He leaned back cautiously, his shaggy, glossy hair spilling onto her pillow in an arc of black. His long, tanned fingers slid up her arms. "Your hand is fine to start with. After that I'd like to run my cock all over your creamy skin."

  She couldn't contain her anticipatory shudder. "Don't you ever want to come?"

  His eyes darkened. "Oh, yes, but only after I've pulled every scrap of ecstasy out of you."

  Magnus thought he could control himself. His land were nothing if not sexually determined, and he'd had centuries of practice. Despite his lengthy experience, when her warm little hand wrapped his straining thickness and began to pull, he wished he'd let her cover him in the rubber.

  It wouldn't have kept his magical contract from activating; all that required was releasing a burst of orgasmic energy inside her sex. The latex would, however, have prevented him from feeling every whorl of every fingerprint drag along his nerves. All fairies were susceptible to skin hunger, and Magnus had reached the state of arousal where the flutter of an eyelash was as potent as a sucking tongue. When Zoe gentled the palm of her hand around his testicles, he actually hallucinated, actually saw himself pushing her thighs apart and spearing her.

  The vision was so vivid he could feel the Will-Be shivering. The dream would become reality if he didn't distract himself. The Will-Be would make him a puppet to his own desires.

  "You're so big," she murmured as he jerked beneath her careful strokes, her thumb tracing the route of a thickened vein. "I know it sounds cliche, but I honestly don't know how you're going to fit."

  Cliche or not, the words were sufficient to give him another technicolor flash of taking her. He could hear the sounds she would make, could feel the press of her heels behind his buttocks as she'd struggle to pull him in. He tried to push the image away, but she was bending toward him in truth, was softly pressing her lips to his weeping tip. Her mouth formed a circle around his rim, beginning to draw, beginning to create suction against the very nerves that could least stand it.

  "Stop," he croaked as her tongue came out.

  "Magnus?" she said, her voice very strange.

  He'd blacked out for a second. He had to shake his head back into reality. When he returned, he felt as shocked as she looked. His hand was on her throat. It only held her off from going down on him, but it was in the same position as if he'd meant to strangle her.

  "Sorry," he said, panting it
. His cock was pulsing like a rabid animal inside her hand, his vision of taking her threatening to rise again. "Sorry." He forced his fingers to release her. "I wanted to be inside you, and I… Do you have any lubricant in that drawer?"

  She stared at him, maybe sensing his evasion, maybe just amazed by his behavior. Her gaze was steady but wide. She should have been frightened, but he didn't think she was. She was breathing raggedly, shallow puffs of air that made her little breasts tremble. Her pupils were swollen, her cheeks stained red.

  She looked like what he'd accidentally done had excited her.

  If it had, she wasn't ready to discuss it. He wasn't either. Fairy males were naturally controlling. The idea that Zoe might enjoy letting him take charge of her in bed wasn't one he could afford to contemplate just then.

  "Lubricant… sounds smart," she said breathlessly. "As big as you are, you might need a little help."

  As wet as she was, he doubted it, but he wasn't intending to get inside her the way she thought.

  "Give it to me," he said when she found it. "And please—" He swallowed, meaning the please to soften the harshness of his request. "Please turn onto your stomach and wait for me."

  She didn't argue. She turned and stretched her arms upward, wrapping her hands around the wrought iron vines and leaves that formed her headboard. The design reminded him of a garden his Aunt Elena had once spelled together for an orgy. Seeing Zoe lock her hands to the cold metal, playing submissive nymph to his satyr, had his cock jerking. Her curls were the ultimate in femininity as they spilled down her slender back, the image triggering reactions he could not control. His breath came faster as she turned her head over her shoulder and gazed at him knowingly.

  Her soft gray eyes seemed to hold the keys to a hundred realms' mysteries.

  "You'd like to tie me here," she said.

  The guess was good enough to spur a shiver.