Page 61 of Crowned By the Fae King

Cass whimpered. There was no denying it. That was a straight-up whimper of pleasure, out of the throat of the Merciful King.

The whole palace thrummed, objects on shelves shivering across the surface from the vibration. The pastel flowers on the wall went crimson. The fucking sconces started blooming, silver arms putting out silver flowers that furled open to reveal glowing stamens.

"Stop controlling all your physical reactions," I said, smirking a little, and well aware that the moment Cass stopped forcing our bodies to be sexless, it was going to be arousal central. "Let yourself feel whatever you're feeling."

"This is supposed to be platonic," he said in a falsely-calm voice. He lowered his arm around me until his hand was planted on the sheets, carefully not touching my bare chest or stomach.

"That's right." I picked up his hand and maneuvered it so he was holding my shoulder, his powerful forearm across my chest.

Another tiny noise.

"It will very rapidly be about sex if I stop controlling my physical response to having your bare back against my bare chest, my arm across your bare breasts, and your ass tucked against my hips," Cass said in a measured cadence.

"Uh-huh." I reached back and patted his tense thigh. "Take a look around, splendor. The walls are blooming, and the ceiling paintings are turning into some sort of mythological version of the Kama Sutra. You're not fooling anyone."

My cheeks went hot with his embarrassment for less than a heartbeat before Cass exerted his control. His focus struck the palace like a sledgehammer, wiping out the ceiling paintings with white and blanking the wallpaper.

With my bare skin against his, my mind rushed into the palace alongside him. Arousal turned to anger and frustration as the reflection of his emotions flooded out from his nexus of control to escape his grip. Dogs snarled and cats hissed. The fires in the ovens and forges roared into infernos, driving startled workers back. Lightning cracked down from a cloudless sky and sent stone thundering down the steep cliff.

"Cass," I gasped out, pressing my back against his chest. "Stop it. Stop, it was fine—"

He shoved himself up, breaking the physical contact and holding himself over me on all fours as he panted, black hair hanging down and eyes unfocused. "This was— This was a mistake," he rasped out. "Can't— Shouldn't— I'll hurt someone if I—"

I took a deep breath, then rolled onto my back and put my hands on his face.

Cass groaned deep in his chest, wings falling to either side of us and lashes fluttering. Desire twined down my arms like vines, raw need that had nothing to do with sex, leaving glittering trails of mica on my skin.

"Look at me," I said, my voice intense. "Focus on me. You're not going to hurt me, Cass. You're not going to scare me. Just fucking look in my eyes and be here."

He shuddered. Dark lashes parted. His eyes focused slowly on my face, the clusters of golden flecks near his pupils catching the light.

My breath caught in my throat, chest going tight. Fuck, he's so gorgeous.

"There you go," I whispered.

His eyes slid down to my mouth. Rested there. Slipped further down, following the lines of my collarbone before settling on my breasts.

He tilted his head, birdlike. One of his ears cocked forward.

"Cass?" I asked, uncertainty coloring the word.

His gaze lifted to mine again, not with unknowingness, but with the distance of a sleepwalker. Cass tilted his face and rested his mouth against my palm with a sound of pleasure. His warm breath filled my hand.

He's not here, I realized with a sudden sense of dislocation. He's—

Overwhelmed, some other part of my mind supplied. Lost. But he couldn't get unmoored from me. All I had to do was to close my eyes to follow him. Courting ravens dancing on the wind, wingtip-to-wingtip, her throaty call his favorite song—river otters curled up together in their den in a heap, family and lovers and children all together—the roots of a tree buried deep in the embrace of stone—a stag in rut, the scent of his doe's musk heavy in his nostrils, blind to anything but her—

Come back, I thought, or said, my eyes opening but my mind still caught up in the Court. "Come back, Cassie," I said with more force, focusing on the black and gold of his eyes. "I told you to be here."

He let out a heavy breath, face dropping closer to mine. His eyes rolled up for a moment, but he didn't pass out or collapse. He blinked, hard, starting to pant. "Quyen," he said, apologetic fear in my name. "I…"

"Come here," I said softly. I let go of his face and tugged him down towards me.

Cass went with a low moan, settling his weight to the side but leaning against me. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, hand cupping my head, and breathed.

His ragged breath warmed my skin. All my skin felt hypersensitive from the focus of his yearning, a man who hadn't had a drop to drink in decades finding a clear spring in the desert. He was inescapable, but I didn't want to escape. I was exactly where I wanted to be.

He kept shifting by fractions, leaning more of his weight onto me, until he was halfway on top of me, the weight of his heavy thigh across my legs and his upper arm resting on my breast. "I feel so crass next to you. Too big, too broken, too much," he whispered against my skin. "You deserve better than this."

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