by Emma Holly
He let her roll him beneath her for the final bout, riding him so forcefully any other man would have protested. Alex simply gripped her hips and pulled her down harder.
Even when she was on top, he stayed in charge.
"Is this okay with you?" he panted. "Is this good?"
She was too busy coming to reassure him, her blood roaring in her ears, her body taking what it wanted with an abandon she didn't think she'd ever experienced.
He grunted, feeling her contractions, his face going grim and tight like it had every time right before he climaxed except the first. Then his face had been open. Then it had been both tender and furious.
What lay behind the change came to her clear as crystal. He was sorry he'd said he loved her. He regretted it because she hadn't said it back. She hadn't known what to make of his confession, thinking it was the heat of the moment talking. Now, though, seeing that her silence had caused him pain, her conscience jabbed at her to tell him she loved him, too.
No, she refused, swallowing the words. She wasn't going to do this, not with him and not with Magnus. She'd opened herself to Magnus last night only to have him reject her—the man she'd thought was different from Alex, the man she'd thought, at the least, could be trusted if he ever fell in love with her.
But neither man could be trusted. They were more alike than different, unable to give their hearts to any one person.
She cried out as Alex did something wicked with his fingers on her swollen, cream-drenched clit. He'd found the little spot on the side that made her crazy, the one he'd discovered all those years ago in the back of his mother's car, the one so sensitive that rubbing it too early almost felt like pain. But it wasn't too early now. No, it was screamingly perfect.
"That's a… girl," he gasped, his fingers stiff with the closeness of his own climax. "One more time… with me."
His head jerked back on the rumpled blanket, his lips pulled snarling from his teeth. His hips snapped up and locked inside her as his cock grew thicker and began to pulse. Zoe's sex contracted around him at the same instant, as if their separate pleasures were being detonated by a single switch. It wasn't just energy that exploded inside her, but emotion, the same irrational burst of—well, love was a pale word for the adoration that swept through her—that she'd felt for Magnus the night before. In that moment when her orgasm blinded her earthly eyes, she knew that Alex was perfect just as he was. That she only had to love him, just as he was, and everything would turn out all right.
She was crying silently when she came out of it, two long, hot trickles running from the corners of her eyes. She swiped them away before Alex could see, easing her weight down carefully on his hips. He was still inside her, still hard, though not as hard as before.
He looked serious when he opened his Caribbean eyes—serious and wary.
Her heart gave a little spasm for the wariness, which she tried her best to ignore. She couldn't love him again, she couldn't, but she feared it would be easy. The slightest wavering of her guard, and she would be lost.
I a.m a stupid, stupid woman, she thought.
"You okay?" His palms slid carefully up her arms.
She nodded as steadily as she could. "Tired," she said. "That was quite a hurricane."
A hurricane was nothing to the storm that ripped through Magnus. His fists were trembling, the scrying ball fallen from his hold.
The fairy bastard had taken her—not once but four hard times—until she'd wept with pleasure at her last climax.
Alex had been shoved deep into her pussy, shoved by the strength of Zoe's own hips and thighs, shoved in that tight velvet sheath of flesh she'd been keeping—perhaps unknown to herself—untouched for Magnus for the last two years.
Magnus's prick should have been where Alex's was. Magnus was the one Zoe had a crush on, and Magnus loved her more than life itself. He would have been true to her had his fortunes allowed, would have made love to her and no one else. She had no idea how hard it was for one of his kind to have sex only once a month, but—to spare her feelings—he'd done it without complaint.
And now some other fairy knew how she felt inside. Alex had felt her sex clutch and cream around him. Alex had spilled his energy into her core. Barely two days after blowing back into her life, he'd done what Magnus would never, ever be able to.
At least not without losing her.
Magnus had been at war with his sexual requirements for far too long. He'd chained them with love and caring, but now he heard the sound of metal squealing with strain. His eyes glowed in the darkness, the furious burn of green the literal embodiment of his envy. He couldn't even tell Zoe the truth of what he'd done for her, for fear that knowing would endanger her. He had nothing to fight with, nothing to hope for.
Worst of all, he'd put himself in this position by invoking the particular magic he'd used to steal into the human realm. He couldn't even soothe his spirits by blaming someone else.
He threw his head back, roaring his frustration until his throat was raw, until the points of the purple crystals that lined the ceiling chimed the sound back to him.
He knew the tantrum wouldn't impress the Will-Be, but—just then—anger seemed a hell of a lot better than the helplessness he could have felt.
* * *
Chapter Twelve
Titania, Queen of all Fairy, strode through the pitch black cave with nothing but her glorious aura for radiance. Water roared behind the enchanted lapis lazuli wall ahead, an earth stone twisted from its natural state to guard this valuable portal.
In a moment, Titania would step through it, would leave her beautiful Fairy realm for that of humans. Entering that magically anemic place wasn't a pleasant prospect, but it needed doing. Magnus's location had been pinpointed, only the second time that had happened since he'd succumbed to his childish madness and run away. Though leaving her own world meant many of her spells would be rendered useless, she had to take this chance to speak to him herself.
The minion's report of how it had been foiled the first time had been predictably confused—elementals hated admitting to mistakes—but its failure was inarguable. Clearly, messages sent through others would not do. She needed to make her son understand how important it was to her that he come home, how much happier they both would be. Then surely he would see reason.
Beside her, Titania's minion made a snarling, hacking noise that was its idea of a polite cough. Illuminated, quite literally, by her beauty, the elemental was a lumpy fog of darkness wrapped around a sickly, greenish-yellow spark. The creature bowed from a spot that could have been its waist, its cavernous pseudo-eyes rolling upward to watch her face. Its not quite solid nature caused one socket to billow larger than the other.
"Your gloriousness," it said in a rolling profundo bass—but not as if it meant the compliment. "Do you wish me to accompany you into the chamber behind the falls?"
Titania frowned at the elemental, the falseness of its sycophancy making it even uglier to her eyes. Tracking fairies in the human world was difficult, in part because of the magical imbalance, but also because time ran differently between the realms. A delay of moments could mean a chance was missed. This creature had located Magnus, and that ought to have earned it the right to come along, but in Titania's opinion the elementals in her employ spent too much time spying on humans. They were, she had discovered, beginning to ape them in little ways—this less that perfect respect for her supremacy being one of them.
"Thank you for offering," she said. It would have been better to use the creature's name, more binding, but unfortunately all her minions looked the same to her. "I prefer privacy tonight."
The minion bowed even deeper and backed away, its smokey, amorphous face shading into an expression that could have been a smirk. Possibly it knew how little she was looking forward to the task ahead.
Titania pretended not to see the reaction, refusing to waste time quibbling with his sort. The elemental was her creature, magically bound to her will. That was all she
needed to know.
In any case, this was her door. The elementals had their ghostly hot spots to work their mischief through, and that was more than good enough for them. As queen, no one but she had the right to access this ancient entryway. Had she been able, she would have barred it from being used to transfer changelings, but that was an old tradition, a magic set up long before she won the throne. If she discontinued it, the other royals in her realm would be up in arms. They liked adopting humans; said their unpredictability added "spice" to the process of parenting.
Titania snorted to herself. Her own son was pure fairy, descended from the best bloodlines, and in the century or so since he'd been born, she'd found him quite unpredictable enough.
Satisfied that the minion had really left and wasn't lurking disembodied in a shadow, she flicked her hands at the enchanted wall and willed it to collapse. Air rushed inward, carrying the nasty green scent of water that supported too many living things. Human gardeners have no discipline, she thought, but a moment later her lip curled even harder in distaste. Hot on the heels of the waters' smell came the even more offensive essence of fairy sweat mingling with human.
Her son was here, exactly as the minion said, and he was copulating with a native. Shuddering in disgust, she moved closer to the curtain of falling water. Already, she could feel her queenly magic beginning to leach away. Despite the stay-put spell on her slippers, she almost slid on the wet sandstone.
I will be quick, she promised herself. One quick preemptive strike to let him know I mean business.
That she had to be quick before too much of her magic faded she chose not to dwell upon.
With a spine as straight as any queen had ever boasted, Titania took a good grip on a crevice in the rock and leaned through the icy water. She couldn't lean too far because the current was forceful, and, consequently, the mist obscured her vision. Even more annoying was the fact that, with her head in the human realm, she was forced to rely on purely physical sight. These handicaps aside, Titania didn't need her usual 20-200 vision to identify what had been going on.
A human woman straddled her son's loins, blocking Titania's view of his face. Her frizzy black human hair fell in a braid down her slender back. Her shape was pretty from the rear, but nothing said a human couldn't be tolerably attractive. Some of them cleaned up well enough when raised in Fairy.
Titania's mouth formed a thin, hard line as Magnus's hands came up to frame the woman's face. This was a tender gesture, one that spoke of love and care, and Titania knew all too well what sort of weakness "love and care" led to.
A ruler could lose half her world from weaknesses like that.
I can spare you that, my son, she thought, and by all that's magic I intend to.
Alex's hands came up to clasp Zoe's face. Even if she didn't love him, he couldn't stand to see her look sad.
"I'm sorry," she said, her lashes falling to hide her eyes. "I should be brave enough to do this."
A pair of high-pitched shrieks stalled his question about what she needed bravery for. The squeals of terror—if that's what they were—seemed to come from the direction of Zoe's purse. Alex couldn't turn very far with his cock still lodged soft and cozy inside her pussy. Reluctant to lose his mooring, if not to admit that he was, he craned around as well as he could. Corky's pointy white-tipped tail was sticking out between the handbag's handles. Thought it was twitching unhappily, Alex didn't think that squeal was a sound a kitten could have produced.
"What the hell was that?" he asked.
Zoe covered her mouth. "I think it must have been my fairies."
"Your fairies are here? While I am, too?"
This had never happened in all the time he'd known her. In truth, her fairies avoided him so well that Alex wasn't completely sure they were real. His heart pounded harder at the possibility that they were.
"They like Corky," Zoe said, her fingers still to her lips.
"They must like him a lot."
To his amazement, two fat tears rolled from Zoe's eyes.
"Hey," he said, cupping her face again. "I don't think you have to cry about that."
"I'm not," she said in a wobbly voice.
Alex's heart began to break for reasons he couldn't name. "Zoe, it's all right," he said, gently stroking her cheeks. "We had sex. Okay, we had a lot of sex, but it doesn't have to mean any more than that. Not if you don't want it to."
Zoe swiped her forearm across her eyes. "Right. It means whatever we say it does."
"Exactly." His attention narrowed on a spot behind her naked shoulder. "Well. That's different."
"What is?" she asked, having the same trouble turning that he'd had.
"The falls appear to be blowing bubbles."
He saw at least a dozen bobbing in the turbulent air above the fall's green pool—big rainbow-slicked spheres with what looked like oily black smoke curling inside them. He'd seen street performers blow this kind of thing at fairs, but he'd never felt like he wanted to get away from them.
"Hm," he said, unable to push his instinctive aversion off. "Maybe you ought to put your shirt back on."
He helped her rise, wanting to be gentle but wanting to hurry, too. He winced as his penis lost her body's warmth, then pulled off the rubber with a muffled curse.
It was probably his imagination, but three bubbles looked like they were breaking off from the others to drift toward Alex and Zoe—which was impossible when he thought about it, because wasn't the breeze blowing in the opposite direction?
"Here," he said, struggling to free the blanket from under their feet. "If someone's coming, you should wear this."
He was too late. The damn bubbles sped up as if they knew he was trying to shield her. Two burst on her shoulder before he could pull her behind him.
"Ugh," said Zoe as a third actually followed her around him and burst in her face. The smoke clung to her skin for a second, like a ghostly squid had latched onto her. Then—hard as it was to credit—the smoke seemed to disappear into her pores. Zoe scrubbed at her face with the shirt he'd finally handed her.
"Doesn't that figure," she said in a disgusted tone. "Someone blows a bubble full of nastiness, and it breaks on me. My life is just too crappy for words!"
"Of course it's not," Alex said, amazed to hear her speak this way.
Zoe's mouth twisted. "It's true. The world is a dark, dark place. Full of liars and disappointment. Full of more crap than any person should have to take. I don't know why I didn't see it before. I must have been too stupid, too weak and stupid to face the truth. Nobody can help us. Not angels. Not fairies. Assuming they weren't some delusion I made up. Anyway, they don't care. They're hiding in my freaking purse. We're stuck out here in the crap pile all by ourselves."
"Zoe!" Alex said in shock, gripping her shoulders in the hope of shaking her out of whatever strange fit this was. "You know you don't believe that. You always look on the bright side!"
"Puke the bright side," she said.
Alex was trying to get beyond a wordless stammer when every hair on his nape stood up.
It's time to come home, son, said a voice that ran into his ears like acid.
Alex spun in a circle to see where the speaker was, but everywhere and nowhere was the best he could guess. Even Zoe's purse, which was now wriggling in a truly disturbing fashion, didn't seem to be the source of the sound.
"Did you hear that?" he asked Zoe, goose bumps chasing across his skin. "It sounded like someone was talking right in my ear."
Zoe wrinkled her nose and shook her head doubtfully.
You can't keep her, the voice continued. I'm not going to let this human be the ball and chain that traps you here.
With no one visible to speak to, Alex turned to the pack of beachball-size bubbles bobbing by the falls. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
Don't bother pretending. I saw the way you touched her. I know you think you care.
"I do care. But I have no idea why you do."
Zoe clutched
his arm, her eyes round with a fear that belonged to her no more than her earlier self-disgust. This, after all, was the woman who'd faced a room full of falling rocks without turning a hair. "Alex, who are you talking to?"
"You don't hear that?"
She can't hear what's meant for the ears of our kind alone. Let her go, Magnus, or I'll make sure there's nothing left of her to care about. Take a good look in her eyes. You can see the woman you love is already slipping away. What do you think will happen if I loose the rest of my spells on her? Who will she be when all her confidence is gone?
"No!" yelled a voice so shrill it made his teeth ache. Alex's heart nearly had a spasm. A tiny winged man, no bigger than his finger, had popped into the air in front of him. Alex blinked hard, but he was still there. He was wearing a little green outfit and waving a sword.
"You can't harm our Zoe!" he cried. "Florrie, go call the queen!"
Omigod, Alex thought, staggering back a step from this vision. They are real.
He had no chance to catch his breath, because an instant later the air was filled with hundreds of fairies, their wings buzzing like a horde of bees as they flew in perfect formation. They all carried tiny swords, as if they'd raided a cocktail party of froufrou drinks—except that these swords weren't colored plastic. These swords were shining stingers of steel.
"To me!" cried a lovely soprano from the vanguard of the attacking force. "We must break the spell bubbles with our swords."
They dive-bombed the things en masse, darting in and away so quickly not a single fairy was splashed. Despite their success, Alex could see the danger wasn't over. Once the bubbles were broken, the dark smoke remained, coiling together in an angry mass.
An oily claw of vapor reached out for the nearest jewel-colored Tinkerbell, missing her by inches.
"Sing!" ordered the soprano fairy, the queen to judge by her twinkling crown. "Black magic cannot withstand the sound of fairy joy."
At once the fairies burst into song, and it was as if the most beautiful boys and girls choir the universe had ever known were singing the most beautiful music ever composed. Alex began to weep at the sound of it. If the voice he'd heard behind the falls had been acid, this was pure love, the kind of love that didn't know how to be disappointed, the kind that loved for the simple pleasure of being loving, the kind that asked nothing except to be allowed to love more. He found himself wishing his mother were there to hear it. She'd understand why his soul was flying. She'd understand why this felt like home.
