“You killed something?” he asked, but his voice was husky, too, like he didn't much care about that part of my story. Maybe he cared more about the fact that he was naked and I was not wearing panties, that he was an earth god, all male and desperate to breed, and I was a very willing female.
I reached out and put a palm on his chest, my lips parted to ask him about the sprite, when the door opened and Killian appeared.
“Ciarah,” he said, voice soft, lifting up the tiny creature by one of its minuscule little feet. “I found this in your room.”
“That is not my room,” I corrected, sitting up and loving the feel of Arlo's palm sliding down my hip to rest on my thigh. “This one is now.”
“The fuck it is—” Arlo began to growl, but I stifled him by reaching out and curling my fingers around the base of his rigid shaft.
“This is my room now,” I repeated, squeezing him almost as hard as I'd squeezed that poor creature. Shit, why had I done that? And how fucking terrifying was it that I didn't know how to stop?
“I find it disturbing that a sprite even thought to come to the clubhouse,” Killian said, his voice buttered with just the slightest hint of a French accent. His words were mellifluous and inviting, a siren's song. I wet my lips and blinked past the feeling. “They come in swarms, you know. Thousands upon thousands of them. They can strip a person of flesh in less than a minute.” He wrinkled his nose at the little creature, and sneered with distaste. “I'll give this to Reece to feed to that gator of his,” he added, turning to go and then pausing, seemingly stopped by the expression on my face. “Don't feel bad about this, mon cher. Sprites are less than rats. They eat everything and everyone that comes into their corner of the swamp.”
I lifted the hand with the bite on it, still bleeding and still hurting, and Kill frowned.
“I'll come back and heal that,” he started, but I was already shaking my head.
“Just go,” I said, the morning sunshine reflecting off the steel toes of his boots. “And I'll come down when I'm ready.”
“The president is here,” he said carefully, “and so is his wife. If you take too long, they'll come looking for you.” With a sinful slash of smile, Killian turned and left, closing the door behind him.
“You want to take your hand off my dick?” Arlo growled, but he made no move to stop me, and it was clear what he wanted from the expression on his face and the vibrant heat in his words.
“No,” I said, frowning and then turning toward him, throwing one leg over his pelvis and settling myself on top of him. My hand was still in front of me, wrapped about the base of his cock. “Why did you leave last night?”
“None of your damn—” Arlo started again, but I abruptly released his shaft and crawled forward, straddling his hardness with the nakedness between my thighs, looking down at him with that same wild stare I'd given the sprite. Magic was still in the air, riding me hard, and I didn't know what to do with it.
Whatever man I want is mine, the voice inside my head told me.
The other part of me said that was a tad archaic, a little sexist … but even she didn't really care. No, both sides of me found the thought intriguing.
“Did you kiss her?” I asked, leaning toward his stubbled jaw and pressing my lips against the side of it. I didn't really know if there was a her at all, but then … isn't there always?
“You need to get the hell off of me and out of my room before …” Arlo started, putting one of his big hands on either side of my hips. My tongue flicked across my lower lip, drawing his attention.
“Did you? I'd know if you fucked her. I would've smelled it.”
“You creepy bitch,” Arlo said, but then he was reaching between us and taking hold of himself in one hand, guiding the head of his shaft to my opening. Our eyes were locked as he found the glorious wetness between my thighs and cursed under his breath. “Motherfucker …” he breathed, just as I sat back and slid down the length of him, taking the velvety girth of his shaft deep inside of me.
“Did you kiss her?” I asked one more time, sitting on him, feeling him trapped inside of me. After so many years of being powerless … I quite enjoyed the switch.
“No,” Arlo ground out, putting pressure on my hips and holding me in place. “Not that it’d be any of your business if I had.”
“It is all my fucking business,” I said, putting a hand against the side of his face and curling my fingers so that my nails dug into his skin. “Everything that happens with the Wild Hunt is my business. And everyone in it? They belong to me.”
“Fucking hell,” Arlo snarled, but then my mouth was pressing against his, and he was lifting a hand to put pressure on the back of my head. Our kiss … it was violent and primal, an uncomplicated meeting of the masculine and feminine aspects of nature. Our tongues slid together, twisted in a rush of vibrant heat, and my hips began to move, both soothing and claiming the beast beneath me.
My fingers lifted up and curled around of Arlo’s horns, sending a shiver through his body. Once again, I knew things I shouldn’t have known … like how Arlo’s horns were erogenous zones. I had never met a man with horns … never met a faerie … as far as I could tell?
It was all so confusing, living with two personalities inside my head.
But as I began to move, I realized those feelings were drifting further and further from me, replaced with the bestial pleasure of a good rut, a wild mating.
Arlo moaned against my mouth as my body rocked on top of him, taking everything and demanding more. My lips left his and my back arched, tilting my hips until I could feel the tip of him sliding and scraping against my sweet spot, sending lightning bolts of pleasure shooting through me.
The heavy drape of my wings blanketed his thighs as I leaned back further, shivering as the new nerve endings lit up.
His hands slid up from my waist, pushing up my sleep shirt and cupping my breasts in his hands. My breath sucked in sharply as his fingers found my nipples, pinching them and rolling them roughly. He probably intended it to be a show of power and control, but it just made me chuckle low in my throat. Silly man, had he not learned by now? I was his goddess.
Not to mention the stinging bite of his fingers on my sensitive flesh only served to arouse me further.
Somewhere in the edge of my memory, a shadowy figure spoke to me of pain far outweighing this. Years on years of torture and despair. But when I tried to grab ahold of the memory, to examine it closer, it melted away like mist.
“Veil Keeper, don't go thinking this means you own me,” Arlo growled, his unglamoured voice rich and husky. When his hands returned to my waist and he began to thrust up into me, his eyes locked on mine with a wild intensity that gave me chills. In a good way.