Page 62 of How To Tame A Trickster Fae

“I’m not just saying it, you perfect creature. As soon as I saw you, I recognized you for what you are.” His mouth settles on my breast.

I’m senseless, moving against him shamelessly, wanting more, greedy with it. With him.

He grazes my nipple with his teeth and I can’t breathe, I can’t think, and I don’t want to. All I want is this, this moment of perfect sensation, of him telling me I’m beautiful and his and the climax that’s still just out of reach.

He bites my other nipple, hard, and I scrape my fingers across his back.

My eyes fly open as he changes our positions, drawing me up to him before pushing me back to the bed, asserting dominance.

“So good,” I wheeze, the way he slams into me drawing me ever closer, so close.

“So fucking good,” he agrees, his eyes never leaving mine. “My perfect mortal witch, made for me in every way.”

I want to tell him it doesn’t work like that, that witches don’t mate, but his clever fingers find the bud of my pleasure again, and all I can do is breathe and climb, climb towards the peak.

“You came to me before I ever thought you would,” he growls, his eyes practically glowing in the gloaming dark, the sun setting after our afternoon nap. “You came to me, and then you begged me for my knot, and now you’re mine, Wren. Only a mate could do this to a fae.”

He might be lying. The thought floats between my ears, but I nudge it away because how could he be?

How could he be, when we fit together like this? When he makes me feel things I’ve never felt before, and after no time at all? When he drove me to take him into my bed and come inside me?

There’s a ring of truth to it, to his declaration that I’m his, and as I come around him again, squeezing his length, fully awake to feel his hot release spurt inside me, I think maybe it’s the only truth I’ve ever heard: that we belong together.

He holds me tight against him, our breathing ragged, our bodies slippery with sweat.

“Tell me you aren’t afraid. Tell me you won’t run from me, because it doesn’t matter where in this realm you go, I would find you and catch you and keep you with me forever.”

His gaze is devouring, a slight tremor to his voice that makes my heart ache.

“I’m not afraid.” I nuzzle into his neck, breathing him in. “I’m not going to run.”

I have a life here in Wild Oak Woods, and I’m not about to give it up because the most handsome male I’ve ever set eyes on has decided I’m his.

What woman in their right mind would?

“I will prove to you that I will be good to you. A good mate. Please don’t be afraid of what I’ve said, or of me.”

He begins moving again, and a moan rips out of me as my exhausted body somehow immediately responds to his.

“I won’t run. I don’t understand the mate thing, but we have time, right?” I manage to say, his hips moving in slow circles, tweaking my overly sensitive everything.

He doesn’t answer, kissing me instead.

But if it means more of this… well, I’m willing to figure it out.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CAELAN

There are two things I notice as soon as I awake.

One, my witch is curled up, content and warm, in my arms, and for that I am thankful.

Secondly, there is a Seelie fae so close that the stench of wet dog overwhelms the scent of my mate, and for that, I could happily kill it.

Unfortunately for my murderous urges towards my distant—extremely distant—cousin of a brownie, my mate seems to like the brownie.

So I hold Wren close, my nose buried in her hair, and I wait for the other fae to leave.

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