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When I wake, I am pain-free. Nothing hurts. I stretch and smile, keeping my eyes closed for a few moments longer, enjoying the feeling of true warmth and comfort. I feel...fantastic. Like I’ve been rejuvenated. Like I wasn’t broken and achy and...oh.
My eyes pop open as memories tumble back in.
I’m still lying in Rhodri’s bed.
The prince is curled around me like a large spoon, asleep, if the tiny snore vibrating in my ear is anything to go by. His arm lies heavily across my ribs—obviously now healed because there is no twinge whatsoever beneath the pressure of his limb resting there.
Both of us are naked.
My bottom presses into his groin, skin against skin, and as soon as I realize that, I can’t help myself. I wiggle my arse, waking his flesh which responds even before his snore ceases and he groans and stretches behind me.
I turn until we are lying face to face, waiting for him to wake up properly. His features are softer when infused with sleep, the regal and slightly haughty aspect of his personality not in evidence at all.
In this moment, he looks like my idea of the perfect man. Sexy, sleepy, and with an expression of pure delight when he finally opens his eyes fully and sees me staring at him. That look. It warms me all through, from my scalp to my toes.
I return his grin with a tentative one of my own.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” I say. “Or, evening, or whatever time it is here in Faerie.”
“Morning, I believe,” he answers. “Late morning. And I deserve the sleep-in, after waiting up most of the night while Tarrien and Renna healed your broken bones.”
“You do.” I reach up a hand and smooth back his tangled hair. He turns his head and kisses my palm. Tingles spark from the point of contact. “Thank you for bringing me back here to be fixed. I will have to thank Renna and Tarrien, of course, but I will find them later. Right now...”
I reach with my other hand down beneath the covers, checking to see if his flesh is still as responsive as it was when I had my back to him. It is.
I smile slowly, and explore his erection. That is, until he twists out of my grasp.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I say. “I thought you wanted—”
He grabs both of my wrists and brings them up above my head, pinning me back against the bed. “Make no mistake at all, Mae. I do want you. I want you badly. But this time, it is going to be on my terms.”
My heart jumps in my chest and butterflies swirl in my belly at the throb of passion lacing his words.
“That’s good. About ti—”
He doesn’t let me finish. Instead, he dips his head and claims my lips in a way that is both forceful, and seductive. He teases an immediate response from me, my mouth opening up to let him in, and the resultant shudder of desire rolls through me like a wave.
I moan, the sound swallowed by him. His erection shifts and hardens even further where it lies trapped between our bodies.
I reach for him but he still has my arms in his grip. The lack of ability to move is nothing like the feeling I had in the Badlands, when I was bound by magic. Now, with Rhodri, I find that I want him to control me. No one else has ever had the balls to do that, before now.
He breaks off the kiss and grins at me. “Do you promise to leave your hands where they are right now, if I let go? Or do I need to tie your wrists to the bed head?”
My need intensifies.
“I can’t promise,” I say, and a peculiar thrill runs through me when he waves a hand and suddenly, I am restrained by the wrists with soft cords that bind me to the bed head rail.
“The advantage of magic. Lesson one,” he says, and throws off the bedcovers until my naked body is fully on display. “Beautiful.”
He traces an aimless pattern along my collar bone and down, around each of my breasts, causing my nipples to harden into rosy pebbles.
“Are they eager for some attention?” he asks, and blows on each of them first before taking one in his mouth. As he suckles, I feel the same exquisite sensation in the other breast, too. It is as if he is suckling on both my breasts at the same time. The wave is so intense I arch my hips upward and release a throaty groan.
“God, that feels so fucking good, Rho. How are you doing that? Oh, my God, that feels good.”
Eventually, he stops and flashes another grin. “Magic advantage. Lesson two.”
He shifts lower, pressing a trail of kisses over my abdomen and down to my mound. With my hands bound like this, I can’t do anything but lie here and enjoy it. He pushes my legs apart, and traces my seam with his fingers, before dipping in with his tongue.
“Oh, yes!” I arch up into him, my movements frenzied, as his tongue finds and circles my clit.
His mouth is working miracles all on its own, no magical boost required. I want to wait until he’s inside me to come, but I don’t know if I can. The feeling is so damn good, the sensation of his hot mouth and skilled tongue doing so much down there, that when he slips a finger inside my channel I begin to buck in earnest. My wrists pull vainly against their bindings, the restriction more of an aphrodisiac than I expect.
“I can’t hold on, Rho. I can’t...”
He lifts his face up, just slightly, and his words breeze over my heated flesh.
“Then come, little banshee,” he whispers, blowing on my clit as he works his fingers deep, and I tip over the edge into orgasm with a strangled scream.
I drift, and then finally come back down to find Rho has moved back up to lie beside me. He strokes my face and stares at me with eyes that have no ice left in them whatsoever. Only heat. Brilliant sapphire heat, waiting for his turn to satiate himself.
“Was that lesson number three?” I ask, still breathless.
His eyes crinkle at the corners.
“Oh, no.” He moves over me, resting up on his elbows, and encourages my legs to part. Finally, he releases my wrists from their binding. I clutch at his shoulders, ready for whatever comes next. “This is lesson three.”
He slides into me in one smooth thrust. I wrap my legs around his hips and hold on for the ride as he begins to pump. The slapping sound of flesh on flesh fills the room, and my breathing shortens as desire rises instantly once again. This time, my need is seated deep inside, where the tip of his organ pushes insistently, right at the core of my being.
My moans intensify, mingling with his deep, throaty groans, and then we find ourselves in sync in the age-old rhythm of love that builds to unbearable pressure.
“Mae,” he cries out, and then his voice becomes an inarticulate roar. He shudders hard as he comes, and the rush of heat inside me tips me right over the edge once again.
This time the release is even more intense than before. I shake and tremble beneath him as my channel clenches around his flesh in a climax so strong, I almost lose consciousness.
I think I fall asleep. I’m not sure, but after a time I come back to awareness to find Rho watching me.
“Lesson number three was pretty good,” I say. “How many more are there?”
He laughs gently. “Oh, I have thousands of lessons, Mae. I could spend many years teaching you.”
“Hmm. I might have a few lessons of my own, you know.”
“I have no doubt about that, Inspector Maewen Jones. No doubt whatsoever. And I can’t wait to try some of them out with you.”
As much as I want to continue this enjoyable banter, there are many questions tumbling around in my mind. I sit up and hug my knees to my chest. After a moment of studying my expression, he also sits up.
“What is it, Mae?”
“I like you, Rho. I mean, I really like you.”
He nods. I know, my love. We would not be able to communicate with each other in this way, if we did not have extremely strong feelings for one another.
The words are in my head. He hasn’t spoken out loud.
So, if we can do this—talk with one another like this—then we don’t need to even state how we feel? It is simply...fact?
He grunts.
“We can state it if we wish,” he answers aloud. “But we do not need to.”
I am beginning to care for you a great deal, Inspector Maewen Jones. There. Is that statement enough?
Same, Rho. I’m beginning to care, very much indeed.
“But that leads to my question. I like my job. I like my life, Rho. But you...you’re a royal fae. You are going to be king one day. Probably one day soon. I don’t see how we can make it work, between us.” I pick at the bed cover. “Do you? I want to. I just...don’t know how.”
He frowns down at my hand, and reaches out to cover it with his own larger one. “It is true that I will likely step up and lead Winter Faerie. Very soon. That is a discussion I am not looking forward to with Father, but it is inevitable, I think. The Council are already pushing for it, so I know I have their blessing. And deep down, I think Father is ready to step aside. He hinted as much in our last conversation.
“But that shouldn’t be an issue, Mae. The fae paths are instant, and I don’t see why we can’t have two homes. You could work in the human realm, and return home to Faerie more quickly than any standard daily commute in the human world. We could live here in the winter palace, and keep the other place—your home—as our city getaway apartment. I see now how much your police work means to you. I would never ask you to give that up if you didn’t wish it.”
“Aren’t the faerie paths problematic, time-wise? Aleah said the timelines aren’t always lined up, between here and the human world.”
“As Winter King, I will have the ability to regulate the faerie paths somewhat. I don’t believe that will be an issue, now that you have made me aware of it. So, there is no reason we can’t make it work, if we both believe in what we have, together.”
He finishes with a question in his tone. I consider what he’s just said, and realize he’s right. Maybe I’m simply throwing up obstacles, because I’m scared of committing to anything that relates to relationships.
“I do believe in it, Rho. I believe in you. In us. And I like the idea of a getaway.” My lips curve up as I glance at him. “But you know the getaway apartment is going to have to be here, in Faerie. Not the other way around.”
He chuckles. “Always contrary, eh? All right. I can accept that. For now.”
I lay my head against his muscled upper arm. He rests his cheek atop my head. It feels so right. Ridiculously so. I never expected to meet anyone I wanted to start a relationship with, let alone someone like the future king of the Winter Court of Faerie.
A cop and a king. From two different worlds. It’s insane. And yet, my heart beats faster every time I consider it. I am keen to give us a go.
There is something I want to clarify, first. “I need to explain more about why I denied my banshee side for so long.”
He moves sharply beneath me, and I lift my head, turning to look into his eyes.
“When my friends died, I was ten. I did nothing for them, except cry and scream and carry on like a, well, like a banshee, while a monster tore them apart outside the library. Afterward, everyone fussed over me, and I felt so guilty. As if my two best friends were forgotten, because I screamed more loudly than they did. I made so much noise, it was as if everyone forgot about them.
“Ever since that day, I’ve wanted to give all victims a voice. Give them the chance to speak up, even after death, and ask for justice for whatever wrongs were done to them. By tamping down my own voice—my banshee cry—I felt like there was more chance for the victims to be heard. I wanted to be a good cop. The best I could be. To find the killers of all those victims out there, and to offer respect for the dead. To me, I could only do that, if I shut off my banshee magic.”
“I understand, Mae.”
“Do you, though? You were so angry, that day, when you found out about my charm.”
“I was,” he says. “But I got over it. And to be fair, we would never have stopped Rhiannon and Targon if you hadn’t unleashed twelve years of banshee power all at once. You unstoppered your magic, and it was only because of that pent-up blast, that I was able to do what I had to do, and Tarrien as well. Without you, and your tamped down magic that was finally let loose, more people would undoubtedly now be dead.”
I hadn’t considered that, but I like his way of thinking.
We make a good team, then, don’t we? I grin at him, and he grins happily back.
The best, Mae.
We sit in companionable silence for a minute.
“I’m sorry, about her,” I say eventually. “I wish it could have been different, for you and Tarrien.”
He shrugs. “It ended as it had to. And to be honest, I lost her long ago. The creature I killed was not her. Not anymore.”
Again, silence falls, only this time, the sound of a fire crackling in the grate rises through our quiet musing. It is remarkably cozy here. I will enjoy spending time with Rho, and getting to know his beloved Winter Faerie.
I am even a little bit curious to spend some time with Lady Renna. Dear old mom.
Mae?
Yes, Rho?
I think it might be time for lesson number four.
“Four?” I squeak out loud.
He pushes my shoulder gently, urging me back against the soft pillows. “Lessons four to ten, coming right up.”
He wiggles his fingers, his eyes darkening again to a rich sapphire color as he stares down at me, and the feel of several invisible feathers begin to whisper across my skin. The touch is so light and tantalizing that the air whooshes out of my lungs in a rush.
“I definitely like the feel of lesson four,” I say, laughing breathlessly.
I can’t wait to begin the future with my sexy fae prince. The coming lessons only add to the delightful promise of what we might build, together.
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this third part of the BLOOD FAE CHRONICLES series. Please leave a review at your place of purchase—reviews are lifeblood for authors.
Discover Lady Renna’s tragic secrets in the combined prequel/sequel: BANSHEE QUEST: RENNA’S CURSE.
And afterward... there’s a whole new series to enjoy in the HELLHOUND PROTECTORS trilogy, set in the same world and featuring witches Topaz, Amethyst and Sapphire, together with three sexy hellhound shifters.
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