Moon's Flower (Kingdom, #6)

Lights danced in her vision and then he was inserting one deep into her channel and rubbing his thumb along her swollen nub and she was going to die from the pleasure.

Forgotten was the fact that they knew they’d been caught, that what they now shared was soon to be over. That Miriam was behind them, and possibly even watching. It didn’t matter, in their frenzy to love, it didn’t matter at all. Although the way his body shielded hers, she knew it would only appear as if they were frantically kissing, not mating as well.

Her hands were frantic on his body and within moments she had her hand shoved down his pants, grasping hold of his thick shaft and she was mindless as she pumped him up and down.

Their hips moved in unison, finding that perfect rhythm between them.

“I love you, Calanthe, with all that is in me. Now and forevermore,” Jericho hissed.

“As I do you, my Moon. My darkest night.”

As one they fractured into the pleasure, he howling and her crying—when they’d finished they were panting and clinging to one another as if for dear life.

“As you can see,” a sharp and cutting voice fractured Calanthe’s foggy bliss, “she has broken faith with fairy law.”

Galeta’s words were sharp and gloating.

“Jericho,” Calanthe clung to him, knowing the second she turned she’d see what she’d most feared.

His hands framed her face and she still smelled her essence of roses and wildflowers on his fingers. “It is okay, Calanthe,” he kissed her forehead fiercely, “we’ll be okay.”

“Oh no,” another voice, much richer and deeper than Galeta’s mocked, “that is quite untrue.”

“Siria!” he growled, looking up and with her heart sinking into the region of her knees, Calanthe turned to look upon the radiant beauty of the sun. “What are you doing here, the night is my domain.” He hurled it like an accusation.

Her lips curved. “Except when a fairy gives her consent for me to visit on the night when the veil drops.”

Galeta’s smirk was smug.

This was Calanthe’s first time seeing the woman and she couldn’t help but feel inadequate compared to the woman’s radiance. Her skin literally sparkled with flecks of gold, her hair was a waterfall of light. Her body seeming sculpted by the hands of a master.

What was Calanthe? Nothing but a silly, ugly little fairy by comparison.

But it was so much worse than Calanthe had first feared. Because it wasn’t simply just The Blue, or even Siria watching them. June stood just behind Galeta, head hanging low, refusing to even look at Calanthe and beside her, were five other steely-eyed glares. Most of the high council of fairy stood beside Galeta the Blue. Jana the Green, Rafiella the Red, Lilith the White, Lumina the Yellow, and Antigua the Purple.

Each governing body of fairy wearing the colors they represented in bold and colorful ways. Jana was cloaked in a gown of ivy. Rafiella in the plumage of a fiery phoenix, Lilith in a fog bank of white, Lumina in sea of daffodils, but perhaps the most arresting of all was Antigua’s spray of peacock feathers.

Each and every one of them was glaring with open hostility. Jericho moved his body in such a way so as to shield Calanthe from their view as best he could. But it didn’t matter, they’d seen all they’d needed to see.

Galeta’s self-smug smirk was proof of that.

In hindsight it was easy to recognize the ruse for what it was, they’d been waiting all along for physical proof of Calanthe’s breach of law. For a moment she wondered if the two of them hadn’t given into their passions whether they’d be in this predicament now.

“Jericho, this nonsense ends today,” Siria spoke up and held out her hand. “You are coming home with me. Now!”

He hissed. “How dare you speak to me thus?”

She laughed. “Please don’t tell you actually believed I would ever be okay with you bedding… that.” She pointed a long nail at Calanthe.

Bristling, forgetting for a moment that the sun was not a force she should ever attempt to reckon with, Calanthe stepped out from behind his back. She would not cower.

“The name is Calanthe,” she hissed.

Siria did not even spare her a glance, her eyes were on Jericho’s alone.

“Oh, Calanthe,” Galeta laughed, “we know your name and now you shall get the punishment you’ve deserved all along. Sisters!” her shrill cry was piercing as she pointed at the pair dramatically, “she has broken our laws.”

There were murmuring assents.

“We broke no laws. How can love be wrong?” Jericho’s growl tore from his throat, grabbing Calanthe close.

“Jericho, don’t,” she whispered to him, while clinging to his shirt in desperation. Her heart ached, not with the punishment she was sure to receive, but the unfairness of it all.

“No,” he shook his head and pointed at her, “I love her. If she’s broken faith with you, then it is only because I persuaded her to it.”

Siria growled. He narrowed a flinty-eyed gaze on the sun.