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The Abyss

Page 11

by Lily Archer


  “I suppose not.” I reach between us and circle my clit with my fingertip. “Lucky for you, I’ve got stamina.”

  “Lucky me.” He pulses inside me, hitting every spot perfectly.

  Starting again, slowly this time, he makes love to me. Each touch is soft … until it’s not. And then we’re rough again, each of us racing toward pleasure, both of us totally lost in each other. When I come, I bite down hard on his neck, my small teeth digging in but not breaking the skin as my body contracts and releases again and again.

  When we’re both spent, our bodies languid, he rolls to my side and admires the bite on my shoulder, then feels the one on his neck. “I’ll have to have Chastain mark it with iron.”

  “Will that make it permanent?”

  He points to the scar on his face. “Definitely.”

  “You’d do that?” I roll over to face him and trace my fingers around the already-healing mark.

  “For you? I’d do anything.” He grins. “Though I might need you to bite me again so he can get it just right.”

  I sling my leg over his hip. “Not a problem, my heart.”

  He palms my ass. “None can compare to you, my beautiful mate.”

  How many times can a changeling’s heart turn to goo? Because mine is totally goo.

  “That’s it? That’s the show?” Hoofsteps sound just outside the door. “No poke-poke in the troll hole? What kind of bullshit is this?”

  “Iridiel!” Gareth moves to rise, but I jump on top of him and pin him down (mostly because he lets me).

  “Leave him be. Didn’t you say you wouldn’t mind claiming me with an audience?” I bend down and tease his nipple with my tongue.

  “Oh, my little Xalana, the fun we’re going to have.” He runs his fingers along the mark at my shoulder, love and lust burning in his eyes. Then his fingers trail along my chest and down to my sex. He tiptoes them around to my ass and looks up at me, his eyebrows rising and a devious smirk twisting his full lips. “Now, about that poke-poke in the troll hole …”

  “Ancestors help me, I am so sore.” I practically crabwalk out of the slavers’ quarters and into the vast cavern that serves as the entrance to the Abyss. The floor is wide here, but it falls away the farther you travel into the darkness, and I can’t see much down the black road at all.

  I stretch and walk past Parnon.

  He gives me a knowing look. “Every sound echoes in here. Loudly.” As if on cue, ‘loudly’ bounces back to my ears.

  “Oh, come on. I know you were entertained.” I wink at him.

  He grunts and cracks his huge knuckles. “We need to get going.”

  “I know. Are the unicorns ready? Everyone recovered?”

  “Doesn’t matter. Time to go.”

  “Okay, good point.” I pat him on the shoulder.

  He doesn’t shrug me off. That’s a win.

  “Gareth is bathing. He’ll be out soon.”

  “Great.” I have to give it to him, his deadpan is spot on.

  I keep walking and look through the slave barracks, exchanging smiles—some of them embarrassed grins—with the fighters there. Many of them comment on the fierceness of Gareth’s mark. I try not to strut around with pride, but fail. I mean, what am I if not a prideful showoff? So I keep going and run into Chastain.

  His grin is almost as big as Gareth’s. “Claimed, I see.”

  “Yes. We’re bonded.” I’m still not used to sensing Gareth’s feelings, and I’m not sure how to send him my thoughts. But he says it will come in time. “Right now—” I close my eyes and reach for him. “He is utterly contented.”

  “I can imagine.” Chastain pulls me in for a brief hug. “Congratulations. I remember the way I felt when I claimed Silmaran for the first time.” His sigh is full of longing, and I can’t blame him. He pushes me back and holds me there, his gaze locked with mine. “May your bond forever flourish.”

  “Thank you.” I actually blush. Funny how all the sex talk doesn’t bring any pink to my cheeks, but a genuine burst of positive feeling does.

  He releases me. “We’re almost ready to travel. Gareth still alive after all that … exercise?” he teases.

  “Yep, he’s cleaning himself up like a half-coin floozy.”

  “All right. Get yourself something to eat.” He points past the slave barracks. “The fire was over there. Should be some leftovers.”

  “Okay.” I turn and hurry off, the thought of food extremely enticing after all the energy I just expended. I’ll get some for Gareth, too.

  I turn the corner past the slave barracks. “Oh, hey. I thought you were still bathing.”

  Gareth’s back is to me as he surveys what’s left of the meal. “Done now. Just looking for some grub.”

  I walk up and stare at the leftover beans and a few strips of meat. “Anything good to eat?”

  He turns, his foreign eyes black and his teeth jagged. “There is now.”

  I scream, but the sound is lost as the creature jumps into the Abyss with me clutched in its cold arms.

  Click here to preorder the final book of Gareth and Beth, Freedom: Fae’s Captive Book 8.

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  About the Author

  Lily Archer believes in fairies, mermaids, and fierce fae warriors. Armed with nothing more than her imagination and a well-worn MacBook, she intends to slay the darkest beasts of the fantasy worlds and create true love where none seemed possible.

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