“I—”
Suddenly Gareth appeared in front of them, his mouth twisted with the same disgust he’d heaped on Alun since Owain’s death. “I wonder how you dare to show your face.”
Right then. What’s a party without a family brawl? “Me? What about that latest CD of yours? If the Queen finds out you recorded Gwydion’s bloody harp, you’ll—”
“I’ll what? Be condemned to exile? I’d welcome it, never to return to this thrice-blasted place.”
“Exile might be the least of it. She could condemn you to death.”
Gareth’s eyes, vacant as the day his lover had been taken by the Unseelie fae, held no fear. “That I’d welcome too.”
“If you care nothing for yourself, consider this: if your sentence is death, as Queen’s Enforcer, Mal would be your executioner. If you care nothing for yourself, you might at least think of him.”
“Oi. Leave me out of it.”
Gareth ignored Mal and leaned in. Alun clenched his fists, willing Gareth to take the first swing, but David suddenly pushed between them and grabbed Gareth’s hand, pumping it with unabashed enthusiasm.
“Gareth. Wow, I’m a huge fan, you’ve no idea.” Gareth blinked, and David let go, a blush creeping up his throat. “Well, of course you have no idea. You don’t know me from Lady Gaga. I’m David Evans. I’m . . . well . . . I’m temping for your brother. It’s such a thrill to meet you and . . .” He trailed off, grimacing, as Gareth continued to stare at him. “Sorry. Too over the top?”
If Gareth is foul to David, I’ll throw the first punch myself.
But to Alun’s surprise, Gareth grinned, and his eyes lost their deadness. “Not in the least. I’m always happy to meet a fan.”
A tall thin fae Alun didn’t recognize sauntered over, casting a contemptuous glance over Alun and his brothers—although he ignored David. “Well, if it isn’t the three Welsh fairies.”
The three of them drew themselves up, the disdain in the stranger’s tone uniting them when blood connection could not. They stared him down until he backed off, strolling away in the company of half a dozen other courtiers, all of them laughing.
David tugged on Alun’s sleeve. “I thought you said no one called you fairies.”
“No one with any elegance of mind.”
“Or who doesn’t want to find his hand tucked under his pillow without benefit of his arm,” Mal muttered.
“So what is his problem?”
“He’s Irish,” Alun said.
“So?”
“He doesn’t consider us true Sidhe.” Gareth’s earlier smile had disappeared behind the grim face he’d worn when he’d first faced Alun. “Before Unification, he wouldn’t have bothered to spit on us.”
“And that’s a disadvantage? What, his spit is a collector’s item?” David glared after the jerk, his fists planted on his hips. “I’ll bet you can buy that crap by the bucket on eBay.”
Mal snorted, and a smile teased Gareth’s mouth for a moment before he caught Alun’s gaze.
“A pleasure to meet you, David.” Gareth nodded once at Mal, but glared at Alun. “You will take him home before dawn. I’ll be watching.” He turned on his heel and strode to the dais.
Mal ran a hand through his hair and whistled. “Look at it this way. At least he spoke to you.”
“True.” Alun tracked Gareth as he took his guitar out of its case. No harp tonight. At least he’s not a total idiot. “I’m not certain whether that’s good or bad.”
Mal slung an arm across David’s shoulder. “How about a drink, boyo? These parties never stint on the mead, thank the Goddess.”
“Um . . .” David glanced from Alun’s glower to Mal’s smirk. “I—”
“Mal, don’t you need to see a man about a horse?”
Mal laughed. “You could have come up with a better line than that, brother, but I can take a hint. Have fun.” He disappeared into the crowd.
“Dafydd.” Alun’s voice was wine and chocolate and velvet darkness. David shivered, tempted to close his eyes and let it wash over him, but he didn’t want to waste a single second, nor squander a single glimpse of Alun’s face, gorgeous enough to match the voice. “Come with me. We’ve time before the ceremony. I want to show you something.”
“Tell me it’s a supply closet.”
The burr of Alun’s low chuckle went straight to David’s balls. “No. But you might like it better.”
David grabbed his hand. “In that case, let’s go.”
Alun unlaced their fingers, and David opened his mouth to protest, but when he wrapped his arm around David’s shoulders, tucking David’s arm around his own waist . . . Well. That was much better, wasn’t it?
The rest of Hunter’s Moon had joined Gareth onstage, and they struck up their first tune as Alun led David around the edge of the crowd.
“Where are we going? Is it far? Because if it’s more of Mal’s ‘relative distance’ crap—”
“So impatient.”
“You know how I hate secrets. Tell me.”
“You see that path beyond the dais? There’s a place there where we can be alone.”
“Will there be kissing?”
“Assuredly.”
“Skin?”
“Without a doubt.”
“Sex?”
Alun leaned closer, his lips brushing David’s ear. “Depend on it.”
“What are we waiting for?” He pulled Alun in a ninety-degree turn and aimed for the path in a straight shot through the crowd of dancers who’d already begun swaying to the music.
“Hold, Dafydd.” Alun drew him back. “See the circle of stones?”
David looked at the ground where smooth white stones gleamed in the moonlight, nearly overgrown with moss and framed with tiny white flowers. “Yes.”
“That is a faerie circle. If you venture inside while a true bard plays, you must stay and dance until the music stops.”
“I take it your brother is a true bard.”
“The last one in Faerie.”
“As much as I love his music, I’ve got another agenda tonight.” He let Alun lead him back to their original path. “Wait. Is that why—at the office—when I played his CD?” Alun nodded, his teeth glinting in a wicked smile. “Holy crap. I’ve been ensorcelled, and I didn’t even know it.”
“Does that bother you?”
David scanned the dancers inside the circle. They didn’t look distressed or annoyed. In fact, they seemed well on the way to totally blissed-out. “Little bit. I’d prefer to choose to dance rather than be forced to do it.”
“Trust me, cariad, anyone who has ever seen you dance would prefer that your choice take you in another direction entirely.”
David sighed. “I know. Pathetic isn’t it?”
“Yet I wouldn’t have it any other way. Your dancing is what broke through and allowed me to see you.”
Once past the dancing circle, Alun led David through a tunnel of flowering vines, mixed honeysuckle and wisteria. They emerged on the shore of a lake. The moon hung low over the water, its reflection turning the surface as silver as a newly minted coin.
“Whoa. The moon is huge, as if it’s closer to Earth.”
“Technically, we’re not on Earth. We’re in Faerie.”
“Is it the same moon?”
“More or less. But in Faerie, the objects are affected more by their importance, their relevance to our customs and heritage.”
“So objects may be smaller than they appear?”
“Or larger, so it’s best to make no assumptions about size.”
David shot a sly glance at Alun. “Is that a warning or an apology?”
Alun laughed, the sound echoing across the water. “Neither, you cheeky boy. Now come. This way.”
The gurgle and chime of water over stone filled the air. A tumble of rocks formed a natural stair next to a brook, and Alun led David up the rough steps until they topped out into a pocket meadow, encircled by shoulder-high boulders. On the far side, two
trees were twined together, their trunks fused, and their branches laced overhead like living rope.
As Alun drew him under the tree, David glanced up into the thick leaves, their scent like sage and bay. The spot seemed totally isolated, but after Alun’s warning, he couldn’t take privacy for granted.
“I’m not going to look up and see a woodland creature staring down at me like River Tam spying on Simon and Kaylee in the bowels of Serenity, am I? Because that would be creepy.”
Alun pulled David forward, his smile glimmering in the dappled moonlight, his eyes hot and dark. “You are quite safe here, Dafydd bach. Safe from everyone but me.”
David looped his arms around Alun’s neck, threading his fingers through the silky hair that tumbled over his shirt’s collarless neckband. He smelled better than the forest, yet part of it. “Good thing I don’t want to be rescued, then, isn’t it?”
He tugged on Alun’s hair, urging him to lower his head. The infuriating man knew what David wanted, and he teased, standing up straight so David was forced onto his toes to keep his hands clasped behind Alun’s neck.
Hmmm. Two could win at this game. David laced his fingers together and jumped, wrapping his legs around Alun’s hips. Yay! For once he managed not to fall prey to the God of Awkward, possibly because Alun caught him, his lovely large hands cradling David’s ass, holding him tight, their groins pressed together behind the double layer of leather.
On the one hand, the leather molded over interesting parts of the male anatomy very nicely. On the other, it was thicker than cloth and it didn’t breathe worth a crap.
Therefore, it had to go.
But first, kissing.
Trusting Alun to hold him steady and keep their cocks rocking together in a slow, maddening grind, David let go of Alun’s neck and trailed his fingers over the square jaw. He nibbled a line of toothy kisses from the cleft in Alun’s chin to the hinge of his jaw just beneath his ear, Alun’s rumbling groan adding a delicious vibration to the friction of their mated erections.
Why can’t time freeze right freaking now—with Alun’s curse left behind on the other side of the threshold, and the two of them alone in this enchanted space? It wasn’t just his beauty that made this so hot, although that was zero hardship, but for the first time, Alun wasn’t letting his guilt come between them. He’s finally letting me in.
On the other hand, if time froze, they’d never get to the naked part of the evening—and David wouldn’t miss that for all the mead in Faerie.
Although David wasn’t a supe, his mouth was one hundred percent high magic, judging from the resonance thrumming through Alun’s veins from his kisses. When David pulled back, Alun nearly growled.
“Easy there, tiger.” David grinned as he slid down Alun’s body. “More kissing is on the agenda, but it’s time to get more skin in the game.” He took a step back, giving Alun a once-over. “I mean, the whole young-Hugh-Jackman-in-Mr.-Darcy-dishabille look totally works on you, but I want what’s underneath, and I don’t just mean the clothes.”
Unable to speak, Alun nodded. He hadn’t truly bared himself—either figuratively or literally—since his last time with Owain, and that had been tainted with furtiveness, secrecy, and Alun’s own resentment. This time, all he had to overcome was the fear that David, having seen Alun’s unblemished body, would shun him when he was once more a beast.
He reached for David, his hands trembling as he parted David’s vest. David caught his wrist and petted him as Alun would gentle a spooked stallion.
“Are you okay? I know I can be a bit much, but you want this too, right?”
Alun forced a smile. “Never doubt it. However, it’s been rather a long time for me, copy closets notwithstanding.”
“Me too.” David laced his fingers with Alun’s and pressed a kiss to the back of his hand. “How long?”
“A hundred years, give or take.”
David’s eyes widened, and he burst out laughing. “Yeah okay. Compared to that, I guess eight months isn’t too bad. If I’m gonna date an immortal, I better get used to the difference in timescale.”
“We’re not immortal, Dafydd. Very long-lived, true, but we die. We age eventually, although we hold the years more easily than humans do. We can be killed, if it’s handled correctly.”
“You know what? Death talk is kind of a buzzkill. I don’t even want to think about you dying. I’d rather think about how to get you out of those pants, because if I don’t manage that in the next sixty seconds, I might perish from a case of terminal blue balls.”
Human. Alun clutched David’s hands. His life will be over in the blink of the Goddess’s eye. Could Alun handle that? For the first time in his own indecently long existence, he could understand the impulse to hold a human lover in Faerie, where they wouldn’t age so quickly. And be trapped here, away from home and family, at the mercy of the notoriously fickle fae whim.
He was almost glad he didn’t have the option, not when his own tenure was measured in the length of a druid potion. If I were reinstated, if the curse were broken, would I have the strength to take him home before dawn? Oak and thorn, Gareth was right to mistrust him, to mistrust them all.
But for now, tonight, Alun could pretend he was whole and strong and deserving.
He eased David’s vest off his shoulders and let it drop onto the moss at their feet. David reached for Alun’s jerkin, but Alun brushed his hands away. “Not me. Not yet.”
David canted an eyebrow. “Is this one of those instructions I’m supposed to follow on pain of untold disaster?”
“No, but we will never have another first time, Dafydd. I wish to unwrap you slowly, so I have many moments to remember.”
David blinked and favored Alun with his beautiful smile. “When you put it like that—” He held his arms out to the side. “Do carry on.”
“Excellent.”
Under Alun’s questing hands, David shivered. “That voice. I might come just from hearing you talk.”
“In that case, I’ll be silent.”
David groaned. “Sadist.”
Alun grinned and turned his attention to David’s shirt. As he undid each button, he followed with a kiss—to David’s cheek, one eyebrow, the glorious spot behind his ear, the smooth column of his throat. With each taste, David’s breath hitched, firing Alun’s senses until he feared he’d be the one to shoot early.
When David moaned and reached for him, Alun caught his wrists. “Not yet.”
“Please. When do I get a turn?”
“When I say.” Alun skimmed the shirt over David’s head and tossed it aside. Goddess, how the moonlight caresses his skin. Alun was jealous of its touch—therefore, it needed to share.
He trailed his fingers over David’s chest, brushing his copper nipples, skimming his rib cage, his body like poetry made flesh. He fits so perfectly in my hands.
Alun dropped to his knees and kissed the shadow beneath David’s hip bone as he unfastened the leather trousers. The way they hugged David’s arse made them nigh on impossible to remove, so Alun whispered a word, calling on the One Tree to ease his way, and—
“Goddess bless. You’re not wearing underdrawers.”
David laughed breathlessly. “Not much room for them in these pants.”
Alun grinned up at him. “I’m not complaining.” He had even less desire to do so when David’s cock sprang free, inches from Alun’s lips. “Ah, cariad. How beautiful you are.” He pressed a reverent kiss to the head, and was rewarded with the quick intake of David’s breath.
“Alun, you— I— Ooohhh.”
Alun nuzzled the soft curls at David’s groin. Thank the Goddess I needn’t fear he’ll be disappointed by my body. At any rate, his previous lovers had been appreciative—but nothing about David was remotely predictable. What if he—
“Alun.” David stroked the hair off Alun’s forehead. “You’re thinking too much. I can tell.”
He hid his face against David’s taut belly. “You’re exquisite. How can I
hope to—”
“Hey. Don’t make my decisions for me, okay? Just—” He wiggled his hips, setting his cock bouncing in a way that made Alun want to laugh. And how long had it been since lovemaking was filled with that kind of joy? Too long. I can’t wait anymore.
He took David’s cock into his mouth and sucked as he skinned those tantalizing leather trousers down to the ground, using another touch of magic to dispose of David’s boots as well as his own. Footwear can be so inconvenient. Then he cupped David’s arse and pulled him closer, taking him all the way to the root.
“Holy—” David’s fingers tightened in Alun’s hair. “Please— I need . . .”
Alun drew off slowly, hollowing his cheeks, savoring David’s taste, so wild and sweet. With one last swipe of his tongue, he looked up. “You need what, cariad?”
David sucked in a breath and exhaled in a whoosh. “I need you naked and I need you now. No way am I coming alone. That’s my first-time requirement.”
“Very well.” Alun rose as he stripped off his shirt. When he would have unbuttoned his waistband, David batted his hands away.
“Uh-uh. I’ve been dreaming about this since I met you.” He busied himself with the buttons.
The sight of David—naked and glorious, kneeling before him—nearly took Alun over the edge. “That long?” he croaked.
“Shut up. You have your dreams and I— Oh.” His breath wafted over Alun’s cock until he had to call on the One Tree for strength. “And I thought your voice was amazing.” David peeked up from under his bangs. “May I taste?”
Alun nodded, clenching his jaw to keep from begging. Then—the heat of David’s mouth. Goddess. And I thought his kisses were magic.
Luckily for Alun’s self-control—although not perhaps for his libido—David didn’t linger. Instead, he tugged Alun’s pants all the way off. Once they were both free of clothing, Alun dropped to his knees again so they were chest to chest. Oak and thorn, the beat of David’s heart against his own, nothing between them but skin . . .
He cradled David’s head in one hand and captured his mouth in a greedy kiss as he circled both their cocks with his other hand, slicking them both with another breath of magic. His own groan matched David’s at the slide of silken flesh, their thrusts growing as frantic as their kisses.
Cutie and the Beast Page 13
