Page 112 of Crowned By the Fae King

Cass paused in his motion, ears shifting as he considered. "That might actually help," he said with surprise. "Knowing that it's temporary, and that I get to discard his claim on you."

"Then you get the honors. Cross my heart," I said, drawing an X over my chest. "Want to pick out a little black number for me to wear?"

His ears perked. "Anything I want?"

I grinned at him. "As long as it's black and smoking hot."

Wickedness curled his mouth and darkened his eyes, the gold gleaming against the black. "Deal," he crooned.

Wickedness

The slinky black dress Cass chose was the kind that clung to the lines of one's body, the thin silk falling like water and with off-the-shoulder sleeves that would leave almost everything above my nipples bare. It had a slit, too; one that ran up past mid-hip to bare a matching garter that held decorative, gold-washed throwing knives.

Cass laid it out in my dressing room with possessive satisfaction, a sensation like a rumbling purr leaving my skin buzzing with an aching need for touch. He'd already dressed for the evening's dinner, in a military-style black outfit with ferns and serpents embroidered in gold thread. His manservant had put his hair up in thick braids held up by a golden hairpiece styled as the biting jaws of a lion. Heavy gold rings and fingernails painted black completed the outfit, making him look like a barbarian General whose every golden ornament had been won with blood.

He glanced sidelong at me, dark lashes lowered. "It seems that someone's sent your Katerina away," he said in a low purr. "I suppose I'll have to help you dress."

My eyebrows shot up at the wickedness in his smile. "Who would do such a thing?" I asked in my most innocent voice, making my eyes go wide as I sauntered over. "I always have Kat help me with my clothing."

"Not always." Cass slid his fingers into my hair, running the pad of his thumb along my jaw. "I've helped you undress before. Twice, in fact."

I leaned into the contact, reveling in the warmth of his hand and regard. Every time Cass touched me of his own volition – every time he reached out for me – I melted into it. I couldn't help it. He was the sunlight, and I was a cat sprawling in his heat. "I have to get dressed this time, though," I murmured.

"You have to get undressed, first," he said, in a reasonable tone, his ears lifted and a grin threatening. "This isn't the sort of dress you can wear underthings with."

"Oh, very well," I said in a debutante voice. "You may assist, your splendor."

Cass undid the laces of my day dress with sultry care, trailing kisses down my spine. I had to bite my lip to keep from reacting, trying to keep up the act that this was a totally normal and platonic thing for him to do, even though I knew he could feel every shift in my body. He undid the buttons down the front of my leggings from behind, his chest resting against my ass as he leaned forward to look around my side at what he was doing.

His thumbs hooked over the band of my panties. His heart rate kicked up.

"Cass," I whispered in shaky protest.

"Still okay?" he asked, his voice rough, and waited for me to nod before sliding my panties down my thighs, his callused hands caressing my skin.

I stood there, naked and trembling with want, as Cass got up and picked up the dress. He swept his eyes along my body, licked his lips, and stepped closer.

"Arms up, dove," he crooned.

Cass slid the silk over me with the attentiveness of a handmaiden, smoothing the cloth over my body. His hands caressed every inch of me. Trails of warmth followed the press of his palms. Fingertips ran across my peaked nipples, stealing a whimper from my lips. He only gave me a heated look and got onto his knees in front of me, setting my bare foot on his shoulder so he could slide the garter up my leg.

He was gorgeous on his knees. I wanted him exactly like that, looking up at me with the same fervor as a knight staring up at his forbidden love, proffering his service because it was the only way to be near her.

Cass slid the three knives into their sheaths with a heavy-lidded expression, moving like he was imagining sheathing something else for me. I sure fucking was. I couldn't think past the heat of his hands on my thighs. If he could just slide one hand higher, press his fingers up against my wet need, push into me—fuck, finger me right here, eyes on me as I fell apart for him—

He pressed his warm mouth to the bare skin of my thigh as he slid the last one home. "Do you like the look of your King on his knees, your majesty?" he asked, knowing damn well that the answer was "yes." Cass brushed his lips against my skin again, then dragged the tip of his tongue along me in a sultry caress. His left hand wrapped around my slim ankle and stroked downwards in the same motion he used to touch himself, a movement I knew intimately.

"It's a good view," I said. One canine hooked over the corner of my mouth without my say-so. "Nice look on you."

A catlike smirk turned up his lips. His right hand skimmed higher up on the underside of my thigh. Warm fingertips brushed along the join of my leg, teasing what begged for touch, tasting the wet slick of my desire. I made a tiny, helpless sound, my pussy clenching. Fuck, I wanted him. I was halfway to coming already.

"Do you need to take care of yourself before dinner, dove?" he asked in a low growl, eyes flicking up to mine. "Even black shows wet."

Hot need flashed through me, my core closing down with a shock of pleasure. My leg started shaking. "Your fault," I panted out. "Maybe you should take care of me."

With his eyes on mine, Cass ran his fingers down along my bare leg, then traced his fingertips down his chest to settle his palm against the throbbing shape of his trapped erection. "Maybe I need to take care of myself," he said, searching my expression with need painted across his face.

My ribs tightened from the vulnerability of his want, the slant of his brows and the press of his hand conspiring against me. "Been a while," I managed to say.

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