Page 93 of Crowned By the Fae King

"Together?" I asked, craning my neck to look up at him again.

He gave me a soft smile. His ears canted towards me in gentle focus as he said, "Together."

Perfectly Respectable

Even a cursory check-in with the palace told me that everything was still in chaos. Two rooms were even on fire, which Cass smothered through the Court's power when I pointed them out, his expression going hard. "Records rooms," he said, gritting his teeth. "Someone's punishing us."

Of course they were. At least a third of the people in charge of things in the Court of Mercy were religious administrators—Ithronel's administrators. A bunch of Cassites and a warning from a statue was bad enough. Ithronel herself coming to cut Cass down?

I imagined that burned records would be the least of our worries.

Immediately thundering to the scene in our filthy clothing wouldn't help anything, though, and we were a mess. Faerqen's aura of deadly cold had done a number on our clothes, not to mention the blood and necessary gore of healing. Cass flew us down to the base of the peak and took us through a palace door straight to my dressing room.

Kat wasn't there, but that didn't surprise me, given how long I'd been in hiding and the late hour. She was probably sleeping, or huddled up with some of the other mortal bondservants, wondering what would become of her. There was no reason to drag her here.

"Do you need help undressing?" Cass asked, sounding hopeful.

"I'd appreciate that," I said, though I probably could have gotten out of the dress on my own.

Cass didn't need to be told twice. He started undoing the buttons holding my fur stole on my shoulders. "I'm glad for the opportunity," he murmured, his warm breath stirring my hair.

Those big hands were surprisingly deft. The buttons surrendered, one by one, and Cass slid the furs off my slim shoulders as if he'd been granted some sort of incredible honor.

Warm fingers tucked my hair behind my ear, the backs of his fingers lingering against the curve of my ear before he got down on one knee behind me. Cass started undoing the laces down my back with the tender care of a lover. He didn't try to avoid touching me. If anything, he did the opposite, resting his knuckles against my back and taking his time. Instead of loosening them, he took the laces out entirely, then trailed his fingertips down my spine with only the thin cloth of my chemise between us.

His left hand, I realized. My throat went tight. He was touching me with the hand we'd saved together, leaning into the sensation he might have lost forever.

I shrugged off the dress, letting it fall to pool on the floor around my feet. My nipples pressed up the pale cotton of my chemise. Every inch of me begged for touch.

Cass leaned forward and brushed his nose against the bare skin just above the low collar of the shirt. My entire being focused on that light caress. His hot breath against my skin made my core tense in sharp anticipation.

"Do it again," I whispered, needing more.

He pressed a kiss there, instead. Heat flashed down my spine.

"Again," I said. My voice shook.

He started undoing the buttons of my petticoats with aching slowness. "Is this still platonic?" he asked, his voice so low and rough it was almost a growl. His nose skimmed my spine before his tongue flicked out and traced the dip between my vertebrae.

I could have combusted on the spot. One of the petticoats fell to the floor. Another.

"Quyen?" Cass asked in a purr. "Does this still count as platonic?"

The third petticoat fell, leaving me in nothing but a loose cotton chemise and stockings over my panties. I couldn't remember if they were good ones. Fuck, what if I was wearing something frumpy? I was never wearing anything but lingerie ever again—

"It—" was all I managed to get out before I had to swallow. "It doesn't matter. This isn't part of our bargain. Once a day, midnight to midnight, remember?"

"Ahh, that's right," he said, as if he'd forgotten. His warm hands slid up the outside of my thighs to the ties at the top of the heavy silk stockings. Cass started undoing the knots with the sort of care that told me he was savoring every second of my torment. "Then perhaps you wouldn't mind if I loosened the laces of my… Very. Tight. Pants?" he asked, his voice dropping deeper on the last words.

I'd been doing a good job of keeping my senses in my own body up until then. In a flash, that barrier dropped, and all the physical desire pounding in his veins flooded mine. My pussy clenched in synchrony with the twitch of his cock, the pressure of his pants against him an aching taunt of what his body craved. "Cass," I whimpered. My thighs started shaking.

Cass let out a panting breath, his hands tightening on my hips. Fingers slipped up under my chemise; curled over the top of my stockings. Still okay? he asked silently.

In answer, I slid my hand up my chest and onto my neck, tracing my fingers lightly across skin that begged for it. Y-E-S, I wrote on the delicate skin under my ear. Tingling pleasure scudded across my throat.

His mouth pressed against my skin again with a shock of heat, followed by his tongue, like he couldn't keep from tasting me. "Again," he said in a low groan.

I obliged him. I ran my fingers along my own skin, brushing the cloth of the chemise down to bare my shoulder. Y-E-S, I traced on my naked skin. Glittering pleasure followed my fingertips as I followed the lines of my collarbone back up, and then as I brushed them along the shape of my ear. Y-E-S, I wrote again, over my parted lips.

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