by Tasha Black
She drank in the sight of him shamelessly, as if she were dying of thirst.
“Muffins,” he moaned happily.
She watched helplessly as he crawled into bed beside her and reached across her for the tray.
She could feel the heat pouring off him. Nothing could be more real than the warm, fragrant man who was sharing her bed.
He ate one muffin in two neat bites and washed it down with half a cup of tea.
“What’s your name?” he asked, leaning back with two more muffins cradled in one big hand.
“I’m Sara,” she told him. “Sara Mason.”
“Nice to meet you, Sara Mason,” he said.
“Just Sara, your majesty,” she said.
“Just Dorian,” he told her for the second time.
“Dorian,” she agreed, nodding.
“You came back for me,” he said. His voice was deeper now, serious.
“I came back,” she agreed. “But I didn’t know I was going to free you. I was just… drawn back.”
He nodded, waiting for her to explain.
“I woke up to the sound of your grandfather clock,” she continued. “And I had to go, to try and find you again. Why did you send me away?”
She heard the hint of a whine in her voice and almost winced. There was something about this man that caused her to speak honestly and worry about what she had said only afterward.
“I saw your magic the first time you came to me,” he said. “You hummed and the chandelier began to break over our heads.”
“I’ve never done anything like that before,” she said. “I’m not even sure it was because of me.”
“Oh, it was because of you, love,” he told her. “You have a touch of magic, probably more than a touch, I’d wager. And I was afraid you would break my prison.”
“Was that a bad thing?” she asked.
“If the others had escaped with me, it would have been,” he said. For a moment he seemed to be far away.
“Are they very dangerous?” she asked.
“Yes,” he told her. “In different ways, but yes. A few are mostly mischievous, but some are outright bloodthirsty.”
Sara shivered at the thought. “How long were you in there with them?”
“Longer than you can imagine,” he told her. “But you saved me, Sara. You set me free.”
He was looking at her again in that searching way, as if he wanted to devour her mind.
“What will you do now?” she asked.
“Claim my queen,” he said. “Then I will ascend my throne in the new world.”
Sara blinked at him in surprise.
“Does something about my plan trouble you?” he asked.
She felt a jealous pang at the mention of him claiming a queen. And that definitely troubled her.
But she managed not to blurt that out.
“There are no thrones in the new world,” she said instead.
“Of course there are,” he said. “You just have to know where to look.”
She wasn’t sure how to answer. The whole thing was so bizarre.
But his confidence was absolute. It made it very difficult to argue with him.
Before she could form a response, he leaned toward her, caressing her cheek again, like he had done at the mansion.
The pull was irresistible now. She felt the gentle caress deep in her chest.
He leaned closer, slowly, as if giving her the opportunity to flee if she wanted to.
But she was helpless in his thrall. She held perfectly still, waiting for him to kiss her again.
He gazed at her for a moment, those pale gray eyes pinning her like a butterfly.
“Do you really not know what you are?” he murmured.
She shook her head.
“We’ll find out together,” he told her.
Then he was pressing his lips to hers and she felt the world fall away around her.
9
Dorian
Dorian felt the woman melt under his touch once more.
The darkness in him was rising, ready to fill her, to obliterate the little mortal with shadowy desire.
He clasped her closer to his chest and was surprised to feel the joy in her movements, the eagerness to press herself closer.
Mortals always desired him, but their instincts told them to beware. The ones he’d claimed cowered even as they trembled with need.
This one was different.
He nipped her lower lip and felt it swell with what he swore was a smile.
She twined her arms around his neck as if they were teenagers at a carnival, instead of a mortal embracing the King of Darkness.
But she was more than that. He was sure of it.
She did not fear him. She didn’t turn away from his darkness.
No mere mortal could manage that.
Something inside Dorian clicked.
This woman was his queen.
Though she knew not what she was, she had found him, freed him from his prison, and now she took what she pleased from him without fear.
His darkness could not quench her light.
“Sara,” he murmured into her mouth.
“Dorian,” she murmured back.
But he found he had no words.
An hour ago he had been stuck in an endless loop of misery. He thought that it would last forever, but now, suddenly, he was in the arms of his fated beloved.
The contrast was intoxicating.
No one could blame him for claiming her first and going over the particulars afterward, could they?
He decided to think about it more after he had kissed her neck.
She allowed him to ease her down on her back, his right hand cradling her head.
He nuzzled her neck, drinking in the scent of her - cinnamon, blueberries, and a faint hint of sparkling magic.
Her hands were in his hair and he nearly groaned at the sensation of her gentle fingers.
He trailed kisses down the curve of her neck, reveling in her small sounds of enjoyment.
When he reached her collarbone she stilled.
Human women of his time worried a lot about honor and chastity. They would have been horrified by the impropriety of his nudity and would have made a show of demurring at length before they finally gave in to his considerable charms.
But Sara showed no hint of fear when he slid his hand to the hem of her garment and moved as if to tug it up. She merely lifted herself to make it easier for him.
Need swelled in him and he pawed at her strange clothing frantically, not wanting to disappoint her by ruining it, but desperate to get to the warm flesh beneath.
“Wait,” she murmured.
He watched as she slipped out of bed and slid the shirt over her head and the trousers down.
She smiled at him, moonlight caressing her skin as she removed her perfunctory underthings and stood before him.
She would have been considered perfect by human standards in his world. She had none of the gauntness of fae women. Her hips curved generously, and her belly was round and soft. But it was her beautiful breasts he longed to caress.
He hadn’t had his fill of looking at her when she crawled back into bed. He was still mesmerized by the sway of her hips and the movement of her curves.
She shocked him by climbing on top of him, straddling his hips.
But there was nothing whorish in her behavior. She was his queen. It was right that she did not fear him, that she sought to satisfy her needs with his body.
His cock was so hard that it ached for her under the towel, but she did not lower her hips to his to let him taste relief.
He wondered if she could feel the pulse of his need, as he could almost feel her sweet desire without touching her.
She leaned down to kiss him softly, her hair tickling his chest.
He growled and flipped her over on her back, unwilling to be toyed with any longer.
She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck again.
The dark co
rners of his soul were momentarily illuminated. He felt like a powder keg, lit from within, ready to explode.
He kissed her, wishing he could drink the sound of her laughter, teasing her tongue with his until he could feel her hips trembling under him.
He pulled away and gazed down at her again.
Her hair was spread out on the pillow, her lips swollen with his kisses.
But it was her beautiful green eyes that held him transfixed.
“You are mine and I am yours,” he told her ardently.
She smiled and he kissed her eyelids, her chin, the apples of her cheeks.
When he worked his way down to her breasts, he felt her hold her breath.
But there was no fear, it was all anticipation.
He lowered his face to her chest and licked one nipple into his mouth, savoring the sounds of pleasure she made, anxious to see how many more he could coax from her.
10
Sara
Sara moaned as Dorian tortured her breasts, sucking one nipple into his hot mouth and then the other, rolling the pad of his thumb over the peak that was exposed to the cool air.
His appetite to tease and kiss her seemed endless. She felt as if she had been on the edge of ecstasy since the very first kiss.
Now her body was wild with need.
Dorian continued his unhurried exploration of her breasts, pinning her to the bed with one arm so she could barely even squirm.
Sara was not a virgin. But she had never experienced anything like this, pleasure so extreme it felt almost illicit.
When he abandoned her breasts at last, she felt almost relieved.
But the feel of his rough jaw against her belly, then nuzzling between her thighs was so intense it frightened her.
“Are you alright, my love?” he asked from between her legs, an expression of deep concern on his beautiful face.
I just met you. What the hell is happening? This feels so good I think I might die if you touch me there…
“Yes,” she managed.
He gave her a warm, slow smile.
Relief washed over her, and she reached down to touch his face.
He turned his head to kiss her hand, and then turned back to press his lips to her sex.
Sara cried out and let her head fall back on the pillow as sensations washed over her.
It wasn’t just physical - what he was doing to her was unlocking some distant corner of her mind, touching her very soul.
As his mouth moved expertly on her, she closed her eyes and saw darkened forests, deep fountains, and endless starry skies. She saw the shadow of a great tree across a familiar lawn and the welcoming darkness of a winter night.
When her cries turned from desire to despair, he responded instantly, flicking her clitoris with his tongue and easing one huge finger in to massage her from the inside.
Sara screamed with pleasure as a wave of pure light obliterated the darkness in her mind.
11
Dorian
Dorian crawled up and pulled her to his chest.
His feelings of tenderness for her were overwhelming. He wanted to protect her, to possess her, to shelter her from the world.
He had never felt such sweet agony.
Though his body raged with the need to claim her, he resisted, sure now that he must not force her into their bond. Preserving her ability to choose was tantamount. Protecting her in every way was as important as his next heartbeat.
This was his queen. He would not begin their reign with deception.
Her hands were all over him though. She certainly expected him to assuage his desire.
“Enough, love,” he whispered to her, stifling a groan as he pulled her warm hand away from its path down his navel. “It’s time for sleeping.”
“Don’t you want to…?”
He tasted darkness in her again, the kind that came from self-doubt.
“I want you more than my next breath,” he told her. “But our joining is too important for a wild night like this one. In the morning, we will make our plans with clear heads and honest talk.”
Her eyebrows went up slightly, but he could feel the radiance of her sunlight once again.
He pulled her close, warming her with his big body.
She wiggled against him and he tamped down an acute wave of lust.
He began to sing to her without realizing what he was doing. It was as if he instinctively knew her magic would respond to its own language.
She settled in his arms as he sang to her about the fairy queen in the words of his home.
When at last her breathing told him she was asleep, he closed his own eyes.
But sleep did not come.
Instead, he memorized the softness of her in his arms, the sweet scent of her hair, the cozy tidiness of her chambers.
Through the window opposite her bed, he could see the moonlight caress a familiar roofline.
His castle.
He felt an unfamiliar pang in his heart at the knowledge that she had gone to sleep each night under the watchful eye of his home. She had been drawn here, held in his thrall like a satellite before she even knew he existed.
This knowledge must have comforted him. Before long, he felt himself drifting off to join her in sleep.
12
Sara
Sara woke up to soft sunlight and a feeling of utter peace.
For a moment, she couldn’t remember why she felt so happy, but when she tried to snuggle deeper into her covers, warm arms were wrapped around her, impeding her movement.
Dorian…
Yes, those were his big hands around her. He had thrown his leg over her hip as if he’d fallen asleep while tackling her.
She closed her eyes and remembered last night.
Dorian had blinded her with pleasure, taking nothing for himself.
She wanted to look at him, but that would mean somehow escaping his hold.
Sara slid away as slowly and carefully as she could, finally hopping out and managing to avoid the squeaky floorboard.
Dorian made a mournful sound, but slept on.
He was absolutely beautiful in the morning light, and somehow even more otherworldly. The brilliant sun from her window made his pale skin seem to glow like a rogue moon, casting his hair raven-black by comparison. Long eyelashes kissed his princely cheekbones.
Something like love tugged at her chest.
She hugged herself and dashed off to the bathroom, unable to take it all in.
She hurried through her morning routine, showering and dressing quickly. She chose a simple white dress that was comfortable but would look nice enough if she needed to pop out for any work appointments.
She looked at herself in the mirror, smoothing down the soft fabric.
Something was different today.
She looked happy, which was as it should be after last night. But she also looked taller, more confident.
You just got lucky, she told herself inwardly.
But it was more than the incredible physical satisfaction.
It felt as if something had come alive inside her, something strong and ambitious.
“Good morning, lass.” Dorian’s deep voice caressed her.
She turned to find him standing over her.
His dark hair hung over one eye and skimmed his wide shoulders. He was utterly naked and devastatingly beautiful.
She wanted nothing more than to launch herself at him.
“No,” he said quietly, as if she had broadcast her thoughts. “Breakfast first, then we talk, then we’ll go back to bed.”
She laughed and he smiled down at her, her joy reflected in his eyes.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll find us some breakfast, then.”
He moved as if to follow her.
“Not you,” she said. “You need to find your clothes.”
He grinned and headed back to the bedroom, leaving Sara to enjoy the view.
Wow.
Sara headed down the spiral stair and stepped
into the kitchen.
Dorian had devoured the rest of the muffins last night, which meant she would need to cook this morning. Unless the King of Darkness liked breakfast cereals.
The more she thought about it, the more she thought he really might like breakfast cereals - he seemed to have a fondness for sweets. But she was feeling energetic and wanted something to do while she waited for him.
She grabbed flour, milk and eggs and a few items from the spice cabinet and got to work making pancakes.
Sunlight illuminated the crystals that hung in her windows, and danced in rainbows on the countertop, like a natural disco ball. Sara began singing to herself without really thinking about it.
Before she knew it, she was pouring batter into the pan.
“Smells good,” Dorian said from the doorway.
“Thank you,” she replied.
He winced.
“What’s wrong?”
“My people don’t like to be given thanks,” he said.
My people…
“Why not?” she asked, instead of asking who his people were.
“It implies a burden of favor,” he said.
“I’ll try to remember,” she said.
He nodded. “That’s your only question?”
“I want to ask you everything, but I’m afraid I’ll burn our breakfast,” she admitted. Once again, he had teased the truth out of her.
“Ha,” he laughed and then paused, looking surprised.
She suspected the King of Darkness didn’t laugh very often.
“I’ll help you with our breakfast so you don’t burn it,” he said. “And I’ll tell you everything.”
“Sounds good,” she said.
She watched him take down two plates from the open shelves next to the stove.
“Our kind have always occupied the same space,” he told her, setting their plates on the kitchen table. “But there is a veil between our worlds that separates us.”
“How was I able to see you through the veil?” Sara asked.
He stopped and looked thoughtful.
