Enchanted Addictions: A Reverse Harem Fairy Romance (The Twilight Court Book 11)

by Amy Sumida

  The focal point was an enormous round bathtub with a creamy white basin, held within a matching stone base that had been carved until no unadorned inch remained. Around that base, four stone columns rose and angled in to converge over the center of the tub at a peak. At the top of this peak, a stylized golden sun perched, just as it did on the top of Castle Seelie itself. Two curved benches, with gold bases and cream upholstery, sat to either side of the tub as if passerby might want to stop and sit awhile to gawk at its beauty. I strode by the benches, resisting the urge to soil them by throwing my dirty clothes onto their pristine cushions. Instead, I moved past the ostentatious bathtub and into the shower room.

  At the far wall, two rooms opened off the main space; the one to the left held the toilet and the one to the right housed the shower. The shower room continued the gold and cream theme but was a bit more reserved about it. The stall was formed of glass panels held in a golden frame and was large enough to hose down an elephant. Four showerheads hung over the stall but, thankfully, they could be used individually. I turned one on, then undressed, leaving my clothes in a bin to the right of the stall and my boots beside it. I was damn grateful that I didn't have to do my own laundry but also felt a little guilty about leaving that mess for the maids.

  I let out a groan as the hot water hit me and spent a few minutes stretching beneath the spray before I reached for the shower puff I'd brought over from Earth. Washcloths just don't cut it for me and even Tiernan had admitted that the puff was a better option. It was especially good for scrubbing away swamp grime and I was clean in less than two minutes. I was about to deal with my hair when my husband opened the shower door and stepped inside.

  I moved out of the spray and into his arms without a word. Our lips met and the shower suddenly became even hotter. Steam billowed around us as Tiernan's hands moved over my wet body hungrily, his fingers clenching and kneading my back down to my ass. He grabbed both of my bottom cheeks and pulled me closer, cradling his rising erection between us. My hands were just as eager as his, despite my long night. I skimmed his shoulders and traced the outlines of the muscles on his back as I moaned into his mouth and inhaled his woodsy-sweet scent.

  But then Tiernan's mouth was moving away from mine and down the column of my throat. He bent to suck my nipple into the wet heat of his mouth and tongued it greedily. I clutched his head and arched up into his kiss.

  “Keep doing that and I'll come before you're even inside me,” I murmured.

  Tiernan pulled away to say, “You've deduced my intentions precisely.” His eyes gleamed as he sank onto his knees. “But it won't be because I'm suckling your breasts.”

  “Ugh, do you have to use the word suckling?” I whined.

  Tiernan burst into laughter but he also lifted my left leg and hung it over his shoulder. I stopped complaining as he started using his tongue for something other than forming words. That strong muscle lashed at me—first drawing through my sex from base to top and then focusing on the rapidly swelling bud there. My hands went to the top of his head, my fingers sinking into his silken hair, and I pulled my husband closer with my bent leg.

  “Tiernan!” I screamed. “Gods, yes!”

  I came in a writhing, clenching roar, undulating against his face as he lapped furiously at me. And when my legs gave out, Tiernan caught me and helped me down onto my hands and knees.

  “Wait,” I murmured. “I want to return the favor.”

  “It wasn't a favor and I'd rather be inside your sex than your mouth,” Tiernan countered.

  He spread my knees and sank into me, making both of us groan in delight. I slid a bit on the slick floor, but Tiernan's grip on my hips kept me from getting too far away from him. Water splashed my hot skin, adding its heat to ours. I grew hotter and wetter as the Seelie King slammed his shaft deep into me. My body shuddered under the delicious onslaught of pleasure he shoved inside me, and I started making mewling sounds that I couldn't hold back.

  “That's it,” Tiernan panted. “Come for your husband. Scream for me again, Seren.”

  My sheath tightened around Tiernan and he groaned his way into a growl. His grip shifted to my bottom cheeks and spread me wide. Water dripped down the crevice and teased that other place. I shivered, wondering if he were going to switch things up. But Tiernan stayed where he was, stroking my sex with his, as he continued to bare me to the water's caress. Then, as my body started to tighten, he slipped the tip of a finger into that puckered place.

  I came in a rush of shocked ecstasy as Tiernan slipped his finger in and out gently while he slammed his cock into me savagely. The two sensations merged into one magical experience that extended my orgasm long enough to meet his. Tiernan gave three sharp slams and emptied into me with a broken, feral cry.

  Chapter Four

  “Is the each-uisge back in Fairy?” Tiernan asked as we got dressed.

  “Yes. And he gave me a tour of the marshlands,” I grumbled.

  “The marshlands?” Tiernan finished buckling his belt and turned to face me.

  “Well, they looked marshy. Do they have another name? Swamp? Bog? Pit of Despair?”

  “The name isn't the point.” Tiernan scowled. “Their location is. They're miles away from any rath.”

  “Yes, I know,” I said with emphasis. “Killian nearly came in after me on his motorcycle but I told him not to.”

  “I'm glad. The last thing we need is a human poison machine in Fairy.” Then his face brightened. “Oh, that reminds me. Since your father's people have yet to succeed at it, I've asked our Imps to try their hand at creating a magic-powered vehicle. I wanted to visit their village today and check on their progress.”

  “I'm down for that.” I nodded. “I could have used a magic vehicle last night. And by the way, I came across this creature that looked like a cross between a dragon and a crocodile. I've never seen one before.”

  “A feolar?” Tiernan gaped at me.

  “Scaled thing with plates down its back?” I asked. “Long tail, yellow eyes, and sharp teeth?”

  “That would be a feolar,” he whispered. “What did you do to it?”

  “Nothing,” I huffed. “I held up a fireball and told it to go away.”

  “And it listened?” Tiernan asked in shock.

  “It did.” I grinned. “I can be very convincing.”

  Tiernan snorted and shook his head. “Feolars are unpredictable beasts. They keep to the wetlands thankfully.”

  “Wetlands! Of course, the one name I didn't think of. But I wouldn't have been trying to come up with a name if someone had told me about them before I had wound up in them.”

  “They're not exactly tour-worthy,” Tiernan said dryly.

  “I don't know,” I mused. “They had a sort of muddy beauty. Although, I couldn't see much of it in the dark.”

  “Sweet Danu, it didn't even occur to me that you were out there in the dark!”

  “Why would that matter?”

  “Feolar are excellent night hunters.”

  “Yes, I realized that when he snuck up on me without a sound,” I muttered. “Or she. It could have been a female. It's not as if I checked.”

  “It most likely was.” Tiernan grimaced. “The females are more aggressive.”

  I laughed as I pulled my hair back in a loose braid—I'd already dried it with my air magic. “Aren't we always?”

  “Yes, and thank Danu for that,” Tiernan declared before he pulled me into an embrace. After a thorough and tender kiss, he eased back to say, “I have missed you, Twilight Star.”

  “Ugh!” I pushed away from him as he laughed.

  “Why'd you have to go and ruin the mood, T-Rex,” I pointedly used one of the many nicknames I had for him—all of which he hated.

  Tiernan rolled his eyes as he held an arm out to me. I laid my hand regally on his forearm and let him lead me from the room, my spine straightening and my chin lifting in as much queenly poise as I could muster. Neither of us had bothered to don our crowns. We reserved
those for more formal occasions. Frankly, they can get uncomfortable. But we didn't need our crowns to be recognized. With Tiernan's scar and my stripe of ombré purple hair, it was hard to mistake us for anyone other than ourselves.

  The Seelie King and I left the Royal Wing and strolled through the gleaming hallways of the Seelie Castle. Creamy stone walls were adorned with enormous paintings in gilded frames and tapestries of noble Sidhe doing noble things. The wide corridors were defined by crystal columns, some of which held narrow, rectangular planters between them. Not raised planters, but holes cut through the stone floor to reveal plots of earth in which trees and bushes grew, some flowering and some bearing fruit. Courtiers wandered the corridors, pausing to nod their heads respectfully to us before they passed by.

  “Where's Falcas?” I asked, eager to see our son.

  “With his grandmother and aunt,” Tiernan said with a soft smile.

  Tiernan's family had been through some rough times, what with his exile, his father's death, and then Tiernan's shocking ascent to the throne. Diocail Shadowcall hadn't been the best supporter of his son or the nicest man, but he'd still been Tiernan's father and his death had hurt their small family. Falcas had helped Tiernan's mother, Sorcha, and his sister, Latharna, get past Diocail's death and focus on life. Especially after it was confirmed that Tiernan's mór, the Shadowcall—the one he'd inherited from his father—had been passed down to Fal.

  “Where are they?” I asked.

  Sorcha and Latharna both had rooms in the Royal Wing of the castle, the one we'd just left, so they couldn't be there.

  “You'll see,” Tiernan said conspiratorially.

  “How intriguing,” I murmured with delight.

  “Your Majesties.” A man stepped before us and bowed.

  When he straightened, he set his shocking cyan gaze—almost an electric blue—upon me. A pair of snowy-white eyebrows angled over those eyes but the man wasn't old. Then again, he could have been ancient, for all I knew. Sidhe are immortal and no matter their age, they all look as if they're in their mid-twenties—something that took me awhile to get used to. So, regardless of his age, his hair wasn't white due to it. I couldn't tell how long his hair was since it was pulled back in a tight braid, but it was such a bright, pure white that it had a pale blue undertone. If it weren't for the honey-warmth of his skin, he would have appeared frigid. His features helped with that as well; he had a softness around his lips and a flush to his cheeks that made him look as if he should be lounging in a summer meadow as opposed to a glacier.

  “Baron Drostan,” Tiernan greeted him. “It's good to have you back at court.”

  “I'm only here for a quick visit, I'm afraid,” Drostan said. “But I wanted to express how happy I am that you've taken the throne and, as I've yet to meet our illustrious queen, I was hoping for an introduction.”

  “I appreciate you saying so.” Tiernan glanced at me and then back at the man. “And yes, I suppose you have been gone awhile. Pre-unification, as it were, and pre-Seren.” Tiernan looked back at me to say, “Seren, this is Baron Drostan Dealan. Baron Drostan, this is my wife, Queen Seren Firethorn.”

  “It's an honor to meet you, Your Majesty.” Drostan took the hand I extended and kissed it. “I've heard many great things about you. Not the least of which was how you brought peace to our realm.”

  “Oh, that,” I said flippantly, then grinned at him. “I had some help.”

  Drostan laughed brightly, his eyes warming further. “I've heard of your humor as well. I'm glad to learn that those rumors were true.”

  “Please, don't tell me about the other rumors.” I grimaced at him. “I don't want to know.”

  Drostan laughed again.

  “Dealan.” I frowned. “Are you related to Conn?”

  “He's a distant relation. The Dealan appears very sporadically.”

  “Really? My cousin, Bress, is Conn's son.”

  “Yes, I know, Your Majesty.” He smiled stiffly.

  It wasn't an unfair reaction. Both sides of my family had its share of psychotic lunatics and Bress had been one of them. Conn wasn't so bad but Bress' mother, my Aunt Moire, had done a number on him—starting with rape—and he was still recovering. She'd done a number on Bress too but my father and I had helped him work through it.

  “Drostan's family owns an estate in the South,” Tiernan noted.

  “Near Taigh na a'Grian?” I asked Drostan with interest. “Tiernan and I honeymooned there.”

  “Yes,” Drostan confirmed. “It's a lovely place, but I live in America now.”

  “Really?” I asked with even more interest. “Whereabouts?”

  “The Midwest,” he said. “I... didn't agree with certain things that our last queen did so I left Fairy.”

  “I think you mean the queen before our last,” I offered. “Technically, Moire Thorn was briefly Queen of Seelie and Conn Dealan was King. Although, if you disagreed with Iseabal, you would have absolutely hated Moire. I know, I did.”

  “Ah, yes, I've heard of the way you won the crown.” Drostan's gaze sparked briefly. “From what they say, it was a wondrous and rare thing to behold—the Twilight Princess fighting the Duchess of Unseelie for the crown of Seelie.”

  “It was a unique situation,” I agreed grimly.

  “Of course. My apologies if I offended you.”

  “Not at all.” I smiled at him. “It was lovely to meet you, Baron Drostan.”

  “And you, Queen Seren.”

  “I hope you'll at least stay long enough to join us at the evening meal?” Tiernan asked.

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” Drostan smiled broadly. “I'll be attending. I'd like to speak with some of your court before I leave in the morning and the best place to catch all of them is at dinner.”

  “Very good. We'll see you then,” Tiernan said.

  “Your Majesties.” Drostan bowed to both of us and left.

  After he was out of earshot, I asked Tiernan, “What's his mór?”

  “The Dealan is a lightning magic.” Tiernan widened his eyes pointedly to add, “It's significant.”

  “Lightning,” I murmured as I thought about Drostan's eyes. “Yeah, I can see that.”

  Tiernan frowned at me.

  I blinked at him. “What?”

  “You find him attractive.”

  “I find a lot of men attractive. So what?”

  “But you like him,” he said almost accusingly.

  “I spoke to him for like five seconds, Tiernan.”

  “Still”—he narrowed his silver eyes at me—“you like him.”

  “He expressed pleasure at you being king. Very few fairies have done that so yes, it made me like him.”

  Tiernan gave an irritated snort. “Our people welcome the peace but are still wary of me. Drostan, however, never looked down on me for defending my mother. In fact, he left court shortly after I was cast out.”

  “So, you like him too.” I smirked.

  “Yes, I like him too,” he admitted. “But not in the way you like him.”

  “When did you become jealous?” I teased him.

  Tiernan grimaced at me. “Do you really have to ask?”

  “Raza.” I laughed. “Yes, but I thought that you were past that.”

  “You're a queen, Seren. You can take more consorts if you wish.”

  “No, I can't.” I pushed at his shoulder as if he was being silly. “And I don't want to. I thought the guy was nice, that's all. Stop being such a girl.”

  Tiernan chuckled and led me out of the castle. “I suppose you're right.”

  Chapter Five

  Tiernan led me to one of the castle's side gardens. This one was more of an open space spotted with trees than a flower or herb garden. It was a place we liked to go for picnics and was often used by the court for outdoor activities. We headed for one of the ancient trees with a trunk wide enough to house a Dryad and branches strong enough to walk across. The sound of laughter shivered through me, making me gasp. Most laughter wasn't g
asp-inducing but this particular laughter belonged to my son.

  I stopped and stared.

  Falcas was on a swing—a common thing for a child, although this swing had a golden seat and thick, silken cords instead of chains. Those cords wrapped around one of the tree's stout branches and my son—my somber, Goddess-touched Falcas—swung beneath it. His normally pensive face was lit with joy and his shadowy hair blew wildly back and forth with his movements. He pumped his little legs at the encouragement of his aunt and went even higher. His silver eyes—so like his father's—gleamed with glee.