by A. K. Koonce
But maybe he does.
“I want to see you, Darrio.” I don’t say it, but he’s sexy. In a carnal way. I want to see what he looks like in the most carnal of moments.
He shakes his head no, rejecting my request without explanation.
He wants to play hardball?
Fine.
I can play hardball.
My body brushes every inch of his, including the hard length that’s perfectly pressed low against my stomach. My lips skim his but only barely.
“I want to watch you.” My lashes flutter up to watch him closely. “I want to watch you fuck me.” That magic that always burns through him flashes in his silver eyes. I bite his lip before sucking lightly and then finally kissing it. “I want to watch you make me come.” A groan vibrates through his chest and into mine.
“Fucking human,” he says on a low, taunting voice.
Gently, he kisses me. His tongue makes slow work of flicking against mine. Darrio kisses me like he never wants to stop.
A girlish squeal tumbles from me when his strong hands grip the underside of my thighs and he pins me against the wall with nothing but his body and the castle walls holding me to this world.
And for once, I want to be here. He makes this hellish world tolerable.
Nice even.
Then he slams into me hard. My lips part with a harsh gasp and I hold his gaze as he drags his length slowly out before slamming into me once more.
Sharp edges of my nails rake up his tense back and swiftly I pull off his shirt so his warm skin pushes against mine. My fingers tangle into his lengthy hair and I pull slightly. A shiver runs through me as he rakes his teeth along the base of my jaw. A mixture of soft lips and biting teeth skim down my neck and shoulder.
I feel the coiling energy tighten recklessly, ready to explode.
Then my moans are drifting up the high arches of the ceiling, circling the room. I feel myself tighten around him with a shaking orgasm but it doesn’t slow him down. It only seems to increase his pace.
Another shaking buildup of energy furls low within me, my thighs clenching around his lean hips. Sweat dampens our skin but it doesn’t stop the friction of our bodies. He uses that friction, rubbing his shaft against me just right until I’m screaming all over again.
A primal growl leaves his lips, humming against my neck.
He doesn’t stop until I’m clinging like a second layer to his strong and relentless body; the body that’s strung tight beneath my touch. A low, long groan escapes him as he stills against me, burying his face into my messy, damp hair.
My fingertips trace the lines of hard muscle tone and jagged scars along his shoulders.
Hot breaths shake over my neck and neither of us speaks for several minutes.
Gently, his mouth presses to the thin scar that lines the base of my neck and he holds me against him. Black jeans are still wound around his feet as he carries me on unsteady steps to my bed. My legs feel weak as the soft mattress meets my tired limbs.
My knees curl up to my chest as I look into his shifting, avoiding eyes.
Silence. Silence clings to us as if we’ll never have another word to speak to one another for the rest of our long, regrettable lives.
He bends and his jeans drag back up his thighs, covering himself once more. The amount of attention he gives the silver button on his jeans is suffocating. I can practically feel his heavy thoughts drifting in an unspoken voice through the quiet tension in the room.
The muscles of his arms ripple with the simple task of zipping his jeans. The black ink adorning the pale lines of scars across his shoulders shift with each move.
And I study his every detail.
I’m afraid I’ll never get the unfiltered chance to look at this beautiful man like this again. My heart pounds with the terror that I’ll have to avoid his starlight eyes, his rumbling voice, the alluring energy that he always pushes into me.
I swallow hard and try to steady the breaths that are wracking through my lungs.
Still he stares at the soot lining the floor.
He’s going to say this was a mistake, I can tell.
The two of us are letting the silence smother the life out of us.
And it is. I feel it shoving against my chest, clutching ahold of my heart with each passing second.
“You going to scoot over or are you as big of a bed hog as you are a pain in my ass?” His attention drags from the floor to look me right in the eye.
My lips part as I stare wide-eyed at him. I clamp my jaw shut. The mound of blankets shifts until they’re nearly falling off the bed as I scramble to make space for Darrio’s large frame.
I kneel there at the edge, my gaze trailing his every step; waiting for him to join me.
And to my surprise, the fae lies down. He lies down as if it’s the only place he wants to be.
Stiffly he crosses his legs; one ankle over the other, his hands folded over his taut abdomen. At his side, I lie flat on my back and the two of us stare up at the swirling textured ceiling.
It’s as if neither of us is sure how our bodies fit together, when they interlocked perfect just moments ago.
A beat passes, before the bed sinks and he curls his body around mine, his arm wrapping protectively across my stomach. His scarred skin skims over my smooth abdomen and he pulls my back tightly to his chest.
It takes a few seconds before his body actually relaxes against me. It’s like he isn’t used to holding someone but it feels good.
He feels good.
Not another word is spoken, but an insurmountable amount of emotions swirl around us both as we drift peacefully to sleep.
Chapter Nine
The Other Brother
Darkness meets my sight as the burning smell of ash floods my senses. The cool night air meets my lungs in waves.
Without disturbing the blankets, Daxdyn sits at the very edge of the mattress. His smoky eyes drift over my body and his brother’s arm lying over my abdomen. There’s no pull to his lips, just a straight line of blank emotions is all he gives me.
Once again, words fail me.
His long fingers push across the sheets until his fingers interlace with mine. The smooth pads of his fingertips toy with mine and he watches our hands intently.
“Are you okay, Dax?” I whisper so quietly it’s hard for even me to hear my words.
A sinking sadness drowns within my chest and I can’t explain the feeling. It’s a crushing feeling that seems to dart out from the depths of my existence.
But then I realize my existence isn’t its source at all.
It’s his feelings.
It’s Daxdyn’s.
“Are you okay?” I ask again in a louder tone.
His lips part as his attention sweeps over the darkness that secludes us. The pale light of the moon tries to shine past the heavy clouds, but only a diluted shade of color slips into the room. The light gives Daxdyn’s smooth skin a sickly hue that sinks into his strong bone structure, turning the sharp angles into sunken features.
“The iron traps our powers within us.” A hollow sound follows his voice, an echo, a shadow of his feelings. “My powers are emotions. And my emotions are empty without the feel of others.”
Nothing but the sound of his shallow breaths fills the silence as I think about what he’s saying.
“Come here,” I say, pulling at his hand until his head is lying on my hip. “Can you feel me?” His shaggy dark hair meets my fingers as I push his soft locks back from his face.
“A little. I feel your tension. Some emotions are stronger than others, but the iron mutes everything.” A deep breath shakes through him like he can’t find a single breath to fill his lungs. I place one of my palms over his heart while my other continues to run through his hair.
An hour passes like that; me trying to push away the terrible feeling that I can sense coming off of him in drowning waves. Then he turns on his side, his face burrowing into the curve between my hip and ribs. His warm
, even breaths fan across my skin, next to Darrio’s big hand and I know he’s finally fallen asleep. My fingers squeeze his while my other hand stays tangled in his dark locks.
“I love how much you care. Even when you try to pretend you don’t,” Darrio says in a low whisper that fans over my neck. His voice startles me and comforts me all at once.
Darrio’s strong body is still spooned against mine, his hot flesh brushing against my spine with every rise and fall of his chest.
I’m a prisoner here. For the first time in my life, my life is not my own.
And all I can seem to think about is these two fae men.
Chapter Ten
Friends
“You three seem to be really shook up over the fate of our lives.” Ryder’s annoyingly condescending voice greets me first thing in the morning.
Soft hair is still threaded through my fingers and I untangle my hand from Daxdyn’s hair. I push my palms across my face, trying to push aside how tired I still am and how sore I feel from my time with Darrio.
My legs clench closed, a soreness clings to my muscles and limbs.
I glance to him and Darrio looks at me with a small smile curving his lips before sitting up. The blankets pool around our hips and I still haven’t even looked Ryder's way to give him the time of day.
“I didn’t know sharing was your thing, Darrio.” Ryder says with a tone filled with ridicule.
“It isn’t what it looks like,” I finally mumble, sitting up.
Long blonde hair tangles around my face in knots of disheveled waves. My vest is askew and I quickly tug it back into place.
“Not what it looks like?” he repeats as his pale blue eyes shift from Darrio, to me, to Daxdyn.
Daxdyn glances up at me, a thin line set hard across his lips. He doesn’t sit up. He doesn’t appear to care at all what this day might hold. Long dark lashes shadow across his cheeks as he closes his eyes and rolls over, giving Ryder the span of his back.
“Whatever. You guys going to start the day or what? It’s almost noon and I can’t hide in my room any longer.” Ryder’s big hands shove into the pockets of his tight black jeans.
An impatient second passes while my legs shift beneath the blankets.
“Are you getting up, your Eminence?” He cocks a brow at me, nothing but snarky attitude is all he holds for me.
“I—” I bite the inside of my cheek as I remember how I just told him that this wasn’t what it looks like …
“You what?” His arms rise from his sides, and he’s all but tapping his muddy boot at me with childish irritation. “Spit it out.”
“I’m not wearing any pants,” I blurt in a screeching confession.
Darrio closes his eyes as if he can just disappear from this conversation. At the moment, I, too, am wishing I had that ability.
Ryder’s judging gaze widens. Only a second passes before he turns on his heels and walks out, slamming the door behind him.
Is he annoyed, or is it possible my prince is jealous?
“I have to go,” Darrio says. He crawls on his hands and knees across the tangled sheets until he’s right in front of me. A surprise gasp parts my lips as his mouth presses to mine. With a quick flick of his tongue, he leaves me hungry for more, heat pooling between my thighs.
But he pulls back just as quickly as he came.
“Wait.” My stomach turns as I realize what I’m about to say to him.
He pauses there, leaning toward me. The muscular lines of his chest threaten to distract me but only for a moment. Several seconds pass as he waits for me to say what’s stuck in my throat.
“What is it?” His palm sweeps over the back of my hand.
“I need you to get me something.” My gaze is locked on the way he’s holding my hand, avoiding his confused look.
“What is it, Kara?”
My teeth sink into my cheek as I try to phrase this the best way possible.
“There’s a plant called Silphium. Can you find a way to get it for me?” I don’t expand on the request but I do finally look up at him.
This is the second time I’ve had sex in a two week time period. I need that plant. As much as the king likes me, I don’t think he’d be pleased to see his honorable Eminence walking around the castle hormonal and pregnant.
Daxdyn shifts beneath the blankets but my attention is held on the look that’s consuming Darrio. His lips part but he doesn’t immediately speak. He blinks a few times while he looks at me and it almost looks like it hurts him to say what he’s thinking.
“Kara, fire fae … the men … they can’t …” He pauses one more time as he leans in close to me. “Fire fae can’t reproduce.” My stomach sinks as I study the line creasing his brow, the cracking sound of his confession. “My body heat burns too high.”
“Oh,” I say in an empty voice.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d think the ever-aggressive fae is holding nothing but sadness in his downcast eyes.
“How old are you, Darrio?” I ask, sitting up on my knees, closing the space between us. His eyes slowly travel south and his tongue rolls against his lips before he meets my gaze again. My palms run through his beard, clasping his face in my hands. His palm skims over my knuckles.
“Almost two hundred.”
“Two hundred?” I ask quietly.
Again, Daxdyn, shifts from behind me like the third wheel in this strange relationship.
“Give or take a decade, yeah.”
I nod as I study his features.
He’s two hundred years old and he’ll never have kids. You probably have plenty of time to think about life when you’ve seen two hundred years pass you by.
“I have to go,” he says again but in an empty voice this time.
“Okay.” I nod and my lips gently press against his. Sweetly, he kisses me back, one hand held on mine and the other pushing low down my back.
“Stop worrying about me,” he mumbles against my lips before pulling away. “And for gods’ sake, put your pants on.”
I smirk at his words.
He looks to his twin as he crosses the room. Sadness so deep it feels endless is held in his stormy eyes. His jaw tightens with a tic as he seems to recompose himself. Swiftly he pulls on his shirt before grabbing my jeans from off the floor and tosses them to me on the bed but he only half looks my way. One hand shoves through his long hair, pushing back what he might be feeling just as he opens the door to the stage that’s becoming his new life.
When he closes the door behind him, I realize it’s just Dax and I.
The cool sheets shift beneath me as I wiggle down until I’m pressed against his back. My arms wrap around his body. I once thought his body was solid muscle and pure strength. He doesn’t feel that way right now. He feels like a shadow of the alluring fae I first met.
“You can go, Kara. You don’t have to worry about me.” He doesn’t acknowledge the way I’m tangled around him. It’s like my nearly naked body isn’t there at all.
Gods above, let me help him. How do I help him?
“I’m not going anywhere.” My voice whispers across his neck.
I don’t know why, but I just can’t help it; I press my lips there, to the shallow curve of his neck. Light stubble scrapes my lips. The start of a beard shadows his jawline and he slowly turns to me.
My heart stumbles when I see his gray eyes dilate. It’s an angst-filled look that shines in his beautiful eyes and I can’t seem to look away.
Soft lips skim lightly over mine, and a feeling that I’ve held deep within myself ignites with pent up vengeance. Once, twice, three times he presses his lips to mine, building that wanting feeling with every brush of his lips. I’m leaning into him, my blonde hair veiling our faces.
When he pulls back, a breath shakes out of him as he looks at me with life beaming within his features.
My lips part as I stare at him. Dax and I are friends. Weird, weird friends.
Right now we don’t feel like friends.
&nbs
p; “Good. Me either,” he says with half smile.
Then he rolls over, snuggling back into the soft blankets as if he didn’t just change the way I look at him.
***
A week passes like that; Dax and I curled up on the big bed. We keep ourselves entertained while we’re locked away as the most luxurious prisoners I’ve ever seen.
He shoves another cookie into his mouth, practically swallowing it down in a single bite. The way his jaw moves as he eats is captivating my attention.
“Never have I ever …” His bored tone drowns out as he thinks hard.
This has to be our hundredth round of never have I ever. We’re slowly running out of shocking confessions for the game.
“Never have I ever done anal with a nix during a blood moon.”
I tilt my head at him slowly, his jaw tips up as he stares at the ceiling. For a few seconds, I just try to process what he said, my mouth opening without words.
He seems oblivious to my disturbed look.
“That’s … oddly specific.”
What the hell is a nix?
His bare shoulders shrug against the white sheets, his arm brushing mine.
“I’m just telling the truth, Kara. Don’t be ashamed if you have. There’s no judgement in this game. I wouldn’t judge you.” He smirks, his lips curving up in a smile that has my heart stuttering.
We haven’t kissed again. We’ve fallen back into a sense of normalcy. Just two comfortable friends who spend an obscene amount of time together with minimal clothes on.
Totally normal.
“Yeah, I haven’t done that stuff either,” I say with confusion.
“Your tone doesn’t sound too believable.”
My eyes narrow on him even more.
Asshole.
I shove at his shoulder and he shoves back. His warm palm lingers against my skin long enough for my stumbling heart to notice. I push his bicep once more but he catches my wrist and I wiggle against his strong body. The two of us fuss like that for a few seconds until he grips both of my wrists, pinning my arms above my head in an instant.
My breath catches. A reckless feeling trembles through me as his strong body covers mine.
