Aftermath

by Jaci Burton

  She had seen couplings between the faeries in her kingdom before, had enjoyed watching them make love in various positions and all different manners, but she had no idea how it would feel to have a thick cock buried inside her, pulsing with life and stretching her in such a sweetly painful way she thought she might scream.

  But there was more to this joining than just the physical pleasure. There was an emotional bonding that came along with it that she had been unprepared for, and she felt a tear escape her eye. Braedon bent down and kissed the tear from the corner of her eye.

  "Have I hurt you?" he asked, concern etching a frown onto his perfect face.

  "Nay," she said with a smile. "'Tis such a magical event, I am without words to describe it." He smiled and moved his lips to her eyes, kissing each of them closed, then whispering in her ear.

  "You are the magic, faerie."

  He pulled back and thrust deeper, making her believe that the magic lay within him.

  "So tight," he murmured, leaning down and resting his palms on either side of her face. "You will surely render me helpless with your sweet cunt, my faerie. Can you feel it squeeze me?" Incapable of speech, she could only nod her head. She truly felt the tightening around his shaft until there was no space left inside her that was not touched by Braedon. The way he looked at her, the way he kissed her, filled her with wonder. More than passion poured from his lips. For the first time in her life she felt cherished, desired, needed. The ache inside her grew more powerful. Passion coupled with emotion to drive her senses into another realm where only the two of them existed. She heard no sounds from the forest, no water rushing through the creeks, no birds singing overhead. 'Twas as if only the two of them existed in their own universe.

  Was this heaven or just a small slice of what it could be? As he moved within her, she felt every inch of him, every inch of her as her body struggled to hold onto him. Each thrust sent sparks shooting inside her.

  He rubbed his pelvis against her sensitive clit when he drove hard and deep. She wrapped her legs around him and held him there, reveling in the sensation of power as she heard his groans of pleasure.

  "Do I please you, Braedon?" she asked, needing to hear the words from him.

  He leaned up to look at her and frowned, moving firmly against her. "What do you think, little faerie?" Lines furrowed his brows and along the outside of his eyes as he grimaced and powered hard, banging against her clit again. She gasped. "I think that I will soon come." After that no words were necessary. Braedon buried his face in her neck, licking the column of her throat until her body burned but her skin was cooled by goose bumps. When he ground hard against her sex she splintered, released her magic and golden dust flew around them, like thousands of fireflies in the air. The keening wail she heard was her own, surprising her by the intensity of her orgasm, for she thought the ones Braedon had given her earlier had been more than she had ever experienced.

  But this...this was so different, this feeling of being one with him, especially when he wrapped his hands underneath her buttocks and held tight, groaning loud against her throat and pumping hard and fast. His hot seed spurted inside her and she welcomed it as one more thing to bind them together. She held him, kissing his shoulder as he rode out the thunderous climax that left him shuddering against her.

  Afraid to move, she ran her fingers over his sweat-soaked skin and stared up at the sky with a new outlook.

  No one could call her a child now. She was a woman, and had just been taken by her betrothed.

  Though that thought conjured up some problematic issues, like how she could get her father to take her back since Braedon had just bedded her.

  Then again, Braedon seemed so...different tonight. More than just passion lived within him. She had felt strong emotions when he made love to her. Yes, of course there was passion and that had been paramount, but also more than that. She sensed a loneliness within him and a profound pain that brought tears to her eyes. Whatever it was he masked it well because she could not tap into the meaning of his pain, she merely knew it existed within him.

  To be able to use her magic to read him was more than a little disconcerting. It meant she had connected with him on more than simply a physical level. It meant she might just care for Braedon. The thought brought both awe and a bit of unease. What did she really know about him? He was king and his parents had died. He had a younger brother and sister that he virtually ignored.

  'Twas time to find out more about this man she was betrothed to. Perhaps a little more insight would help her decide whether she stayed in Greenbriar or schemed her way to freedom.

  "Tell me about your family," she started, trailing her finger around his human-shaped ear. So different in many ways than the elvin and faerie males, yet in many ways just the same.

  He tensed, then pushed off and sat up. "Why would you ask that?" Rolling over onto her side, she tangled her fingers in the crisp hair of his thigh. "I am curious to know your background. After all, we are to be wed and after what happened just now I would think--"

  "Stop."

  Her hand stilled and she frowned at him. "Stop what?"

  "Stop thinking." He rose and grabbed his clothes, jerking his legs into his breeches in such a hurry it made her head spin. "Stop asking questions. What happened tonight changes nothing." He was wrong. It had changed everything. She stood and reached for her gown, feeling more naked and vulnerable than ever. "I meant only to show you my interest in your family." His glare was cold, replacing the warmth inside her with an icy chill. "You meant only to pry. Fucking you does not give you ownership over me. Do not attempt to delve into my personal life." His...was she not his "personal life" now? "Braedon, I beg to differ, but--"

  "Beg all you want. Just mind your own business and we will do fine together. It is late. We should get back before dawn."

  Before she could object further, he did what he did best--walked away. She had no choice but to follow or spend the night in the forest alone.

  Though the latter seemed like a much better option.

  Instead, she seethed and shot mental curses toward his back as she hurried to keep up with him.

  If he thought this was the end of their conversation, he was wrong. By the time they reached the castle and entered their separate rooms, Trista was fuming. There would be no sleep for her tonight. Not for quite awhile. Instead, she paced the length of her room, occasionally casting hateful glances at the doorway. In the wee hours of the morning she decided that she would, indeed, marry Braedon.

  If for no other reason than to make every day of the rest of his life as uncomfortable as an eternity in hell.

  Chapter Six

  Braedon sat in his chair in front of the hearth and sipped the strong liquor that would hopefully grant him at least a measure of sleep before his duties began in a few short hours. He focused his sights on the heavy door to his chambers as if staring at it would provide the answers he sought.

  He needed to sleep. It had been too long, and he knew without rest he could not be an effective leader.

  But how could he sleep knowing the vixen slumbered, peacefully no doubt, in the room next to his?

  It had been two days since that night in the D'Naathian forest. Two days and she acted as if nothing had happened between them. In fact, if he thought fucking her would improve her disposition he was more than wrong. She was worse now than before, ignoring him completely. She spent more time with Erin and Donny than she did with him!

  He jammed his fingers through his hair. Saints! Is that not what he wanted? In fact he had told her to stay out of his way. That she was nothing more than his required contract bride and he had no other use for her.

  If only his damned cock would listen to him. But no. It hardened whenever he scented her, or saw her, or even when he was in the same room with her. Rather vexing considering an erection was not always appropriate, especially in a public place. Though his cock did not seem to mind springing up at the most inopportune moments.

&nbs
p; Like when he worked with his guard in the courtyard. Truly inappropriate to sport an erection when one battled swordplay with another man. 'Twas not his fault that Trista chose that moment to walk by with Donny in tow, laughing and skipping along so that her breasts bounced nearly out of the top of her gown.

  And was he mistaken, or had she taken to wearing more revealing clothing of late?

  He had no idea what had caused her surly demeanor, but he was growing tired of her ignoring him or even worse, glaring at him as if he should know exactly why she was upset.

  Women required entirely too much thought to figure out. There was a reason he was glad he had not married before. He supposed he could learn to ignore her with enough time. But it was doubtful his desire for her would lessen.

  Two days without making love to her and his balls ached as if he had been kicked. He lay in bed at night with his shaft pointing to the stars and nothing he could do would assuage the incessant throbbing need for his faerie. In fact, there was no reason he should tiptoe around her. She was his bride-to-be and he would settle this matter with her right now!

  Stepping to the doorway connecting their rooms, he paused, thinking he might knock, then decided to turn the knob and walk in. She would learn who was in charge of this castle tonight!

  He threw open the door as if he was laying siege to her bedchambers. Instead of screaming, she looked up at him. Calmly. Did nothing rattle the woman? If he did not know better, he would swear she had been expecting him.

  She was sitting up in bed, her wings retracted. The windows were open and moonlight filtered across the room, casting its light on the bed. She wore no bedclothes and the moonlight shone directly on her nipples, which hardened under his gaze.

  "You did not knock and are not welcome in my room," she said.

  He half expected her to shriek in protest, not cast him a disinterested look. Nor did she make any attempt to cover herself. His cock registered her nudity with a rush of arousal, twitching and hardening against his breeches. He stood in the doorway and drank his fill of her beauty. Truly, she was a mesmerizing witch. "I see no need to knock since I am your betrothed and can enter your chambers at any time I wish."

  She shrugged and returned to the needlepoint in her lap.

  "What are you doing?"

  "Sewing."

  "I can see that. Sewing what?"

  She dropped the object onto her lap and looked up at him. "Are you really interested or do you wish to talk to me about something?"

  "Why are you so vexed with me?"

  "Why do you care? You made it quite clear the other day I am not to bother you. I have not been bothering you, but you are bothering me. Now if you do not mind, I am busy. Good night, Braedon." She had the nerve to dismiss him? Anger filled him and he strode forcefully into the room, yanking the needlepoint from her grasp and casting it into a nearby chair. She arched a brow and clasped her hands together. "Having a bit of a tantrum this eve?"

  "I wish your attention, woman."

  "Now who is acting like a child?"

  How dare she sit there so unruffled when his blood was boiling and his cock was raging hard? He leaned over the bed and grasped her shoulders, pulling her against him and grounding his mouth against hers. He would obtain a reaction from her in some way this evening if he had to force it out of her!

  But she did not struggle against him, did not push him away as he expected. She lay there, limp in his arms, refusing to open her mouth or even fight against him. After a few useless seconds of attempting to garner a reaction from her, he let go of her and took a step away from the bed.

  Her scent clung to him, like the forest wildflowers of D'Naath. And she was not unaffected, no matter how much she hung in his arms like a limp rag. Her skin was flushed, the golden flecks more prominent, but her eyes were dark and pained as if he had hurt her.

  "I do not understand you."

  "Good," she said, anger and hurt mingling in her husky voice. "Because I do not understand you either. Leave me be, Braedon. You confuse me and I do not wish to be more confused than you have already made me."

  Instead, he pulled up a chair beside the bed. "Explain how I have confused you."

  "No."

  Arching a brow, he said, "Now who acts like the petulant child?"

  "Fine. The other night in the forest, after we made love, you became angry when I asked of your family.

  You practically ran out of there and left me standing alone."

  "Ah. I have heard women like to talk after sex." He should have known that was the case.

  She rolled her eyes. "You are such an idiot. It is not that at all. It is that you do not share your life with me and I am to be your wife."

  "I do not discuss my family. With anyone."

  "So I noticed. Not even with Erin and Donny."

  "Trista, I warned you before of this--"

  She scrambled to her knees and faced him, leaning forward, her palms resting on the mattress. "Do not warn me like I am one of your subjects. I do not fear you and I shall not cower in a corner just because you frown at me! If you expect me to marry you and become your queen, then you had better get used to me asking questions and wanting to know of you and your family. I am not going away and I will not be pushed aside when a subject comes up you do not want to talk about. You can answer me or I will ask others, but I will know of your family, Braedon!" By all that was holy she was a sexy vixen when she was riled. And in her current position on her knees, her breasts swayed back and forth, tantalizing him and making his mouth water. His irritation fled and his mind and body focused on other things, like positioning himself behind her and impaling her with his steely hard cock.

  He stood and said, "My father died when the wizards invaded unexpectedly during a celebration party at the castle. There was not enough time to amass the guards into action and we lost many that evening."

  "Oh. I am so sorry--" Her eyes widened when she saw him unfastening his breeches. "What...what are you doing, Braedon?"

  "I need you, Trista. My cock is hard and my balls ache. I have missed you. But I am telling you what you want to know. My mother died not long after giving birth to Donny. There is not much more to tell. The only family I have are Aunt Nadine and Erin and Donny. After my father died, I became king and have worked hard to protect the castle."

  He removed his jerkin and slid his breeches down, but when she moved to switch positions, he said, "Do not move. I want you just like that."

  He stepped toward her, the front of his thighs brushing the mattress as he picked up a tendril of her hair and wrapped it around his fingers. She tilted her head back to look into his eyes, desire and curiosity mingling together.

  "Wrap your sweet lips around my cock, faerie. Touch me with your mouth." Trista knew she had been manipulated, that he had merely told her what she already knew of his family, but her desire for him won out over her displeasure at his trickery. Besides, she had wanted to taste him since that night in the forest when she had watched him pleasure himself. Perhaps it was she who had manipulated him this evening. After all, she was about to get exactly what she wanted. Though she really should not even be speaking to him.

  Then again, she was not exactly about to speak to him.

  He caressed the back of her head and brought her lips forward toward the head of his cock. "Suck me, my faerie. I beg to feel your hot tongue upon my cock." How could she resist such a tempting request? She leaned forward and spread her lips over the flared head. Darker than the rest of his shaft, it appeared almost angry. A small drop of pearly liquid oozed from its tip and she flicked her tongue over it. Braedon hissed a sharp breath and she watched his face as she spread opened her mouth and took the head of his cock inside.

  "Ah, sweet faerie," he said, caressing her hair. "Your mouth is indeed magical." His shaft was hot and more of his salty flavor spilled onto her tongue. The texture of his skin was bumpy and ridged, yet soft and hard at the same time. How strange and delightful. She moved her lips over him, t
aking more of his shaft in her mouth, keeping lips firmly around his shaft and delighting in the soft groans Braedon seemed to fight to conceal from her.

  He so liked to be in control and clearly struggled to keep her from knowing how easily he could lose that famous control with her. But in this moment, she knew who was in charge and it was not the King of Greenbriar. Now she wanted to see how much power she wielded over him by taking him deeper, pressing her tongue against the ridged underside of his shaft and using her hand to wrap around the base of his shaft. She may have no practical experience in sucking a man, but she had watched many female faeries pleasuring their men and knew what to do. Subtle pressure at the base and taking his shaft deep into her throat should give him a bit of pleasure.

  When he moaned and surged forward, his cock head brushing the back of her throat, she knew he had found great delight in her technique. What she had not expected was her own response. Her pussy moistened and she felt the clench of desire deep in her womb. The room warmed around her and her pheromones released the sweet scent of the flowers of her homeland while golden dust danced in the air.

  "Your magic surrounds us, Trista," Braedon whispered, his voice tight with need. He rocked his shaft between her lips, removing her hand to grasp the base of his cock and thrust it into her mouth. Oh how she enjoyed giving him pleasure. She scooted closer to the edge of the bed, needing more of him, wanting to take him to the point where he could not hold back.

  "No, little one," he said, pulling back. "I am so close that I will come in your mouth soon." But Trista refused to be denied. She dropped to her belly to free both her hands, then grasped his buttocks and held firm, pulling his cock toward her greedy mouth. He groaned and tangled his fingers in her hair, giving up what little fight he had left. Satisfied he would not pull away, she reached underneath him to cradle his balls in her hand and squeezed, feeling how they tightened in her palm. He leaned over her and slipped his hand between her buttocks, driving his fingers inside her slit as he thrust between her lips, groaning with each pump against her mouth.