Page 73 of Crowned By the Fae King

My fingers tightened on his shirt, very real fear burrowing into me under the silliness. I didn't want to get on that horse. I really, really, really didn't want to—

"You know," he said with an edge of wickedness, "you do have a bargain you could call in, if you wanted someone else to steer, and to be your personal bodyguard."

You could ride with me.

A picture of what that would look like flashed through my mind: me sitting between Cass' legs, my back up against his abs and his arms around me, hand holding the reins. He was strong and warm, and he knew how to move his body. His hips would be my guide, setting my pace, strong thighs along mine. I would feel his heartbeat against my spine and his breath stirring my hair. We didn't have to take two horses. We could take one.

The fear melted away. My grip on his shirt eased. "You'd let me ride with you?"

He glanced over his shoulder at me, one ear cocking down at me. "Once a day, whatever platonic touch you desire. All you have to do is ask."

I swallowed. Sure, it was theoretically platonic, but…

So's cuddling. Don't you remember what that was like? I told myself, as if I could have forgotten. "You won't be controlling our reactions?" I asked. There were creases on his shirt where I'd been holding on. I tried to smooth them out in an attempt to distract myself from the mutual problems of "get on a horse" and "sit between Cass' legs without combusting."

"That was part of the bargain, wasn't it? Freely given touch." He bopped me with one wing again. "I can't promise perfection, but I'll try not to."

"Okay," I said. I took a deep breath. "Okay. I can— I can do that."

"Surely," he said in an amused purr. "Maybe you'll even like it."

I whined in protest, but when he stepped to the side, I didn't try to stay in his shadow. I clung to his arm, trying not to hyperventilate, and let him lead me over to the horses.

Cass needed to use a mounting block to get onto his horse without hurting it, since he needed to hold his wing at an awkward angle to get it over the animal's back. He settled into the saddle with care, holding his wings lifted back so that they ran almost parallel to the horse's sides. "Alright," he said, looking sidelong at me. "Your turn."

I had to force myself to move, my palms sweaty and knees wobbly. His mount was a solidly-built one, and as wide as a barrel. It stood there stolidly, as if it was nothing to fear, while I stood on the mounting block, trying to puzzle out how on earth I was going to get on top of it. It was so big, and Cass was in the way.

Cass pursed his lips, looking amused, then turned in his seat and held out his hands. "Turn around, Quyen. I can help."

I gave him a pleading expression. He simply made a circle with one hand, the command clear. Embarrassed, I did, putting my back to him and the horse even though it made my spine prickle with sweat.

Big hands settled on my waist. "There you go," he crooned, and picked me up.

Embarrassment turned into glimmering pleasure at how easily he manhandled me. I grabbed his wrists out of reflex, but Cass set me in front of him without any effort at all. I might as well have been a feather. He moved me like one.

The heat of his regard rolled into me as he picked up the reins. "This isn't so bad, right?" he asked.

His thighs embracing mine. The strong wall of his body at my back. His heartbeat… his breath.

My hips against his groin.

Cass made a low sound of protest as my attention laser-focused on the heat of his body against my ass. "I can feel you looking," he said in that flirtatious purr, leaning closer. His legs tightened on the horse's sides, making it step into a walk. "This is supposed to be platonic, isn't it?"

I swallowed and tried to focus on something – anything – besides the twitch of his stiffening cock against my backside. I gripped the front of the saddle as if it could anchor me. "So platonic. Very platonic."

"You're cute when you're flustered." His hips shifted with the rolling walk of the horse. "I didn't expect that."

"Uh-huh," I said. Fuck. I hadn't been prepared for this. Cuddling? Sure. Lots of experience getting spooned by guys with boners. But this?

He rumbled a laugh and rubbed his nose against my hair. "I can keep from having an erection if you prefer," he said. His cock twitched again. Fuck, there was a lot of it, and it wasn't even all the way hard. "I can still be feeling how enjoyable it is to have you up against me without having that particular reaction. It's somewhat unavoidable, otherwise, given that your hips are rubbing up against me." Hesitation touched his voice. "I'm enjoying this, but you ought to like it, too."

I let out a panting breath as we rode through the gates and onto the drawbridge. Soldiers lined the road in a row two men thick, keeping the worshippers at bay. "What happened to shy Cass?" I asked, a little desperately. "'Don't-touch-me' Cass?"

Another nuzzle. People called out to us, but I could barely hear them, focused on the man holding me up against him.

"Platonic touch, freely given," he said softly. He rested his mouth against me for a moment before returning to watching the road. "This is what you bargained for, lioness. Me trusting that you want what you asked for, and giving it to you without letting my self-consciousness or fears stand between us."

"Yeah? This still counts as platonic?" I asked. I made myself loosen my death-grip on the saddle and leaned back into his solidity. If I was going to be trapped on a horse so wide it felt like doing splits with my soulmate's erection in a hot line against my hips, I sure as fuck was going to enjoy it.

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