Page 91 of How To Tame A Trickster Fae

I pull away, my cock hard and ready for her already. “I know I said I’d want you to nap, but I’m afraid I need you do something for me now.”

“Oh?” Her look immediately turns mischievous. “What’s that?”

I hesitate, worried this will keep her from trusting me, keep her from needing me the way I need her, but I’m a selfish bastard, and I decide I don’t care.

“I need you to run.” It comes out a low growl, and I’m so fucking hard my balls ache with need.

“Run?” she whispers, eyes round and curious and so beautiful I want to memorize exactly how she looks right now. “Why? Is something wrong? What is it?”

“I need,” I grit out, the urge so fucking intense it feels impossible, “to chase you. To claim you. In the old ways.”

“Oh.” Her eyebrows shoot up. “Oh. Ooooh.”

“That’s right, little golden witch. I need you to run, and when I find you, I get to keep you.” I bend down, biting her neck, not hard, but enough to make her gasp, and the scent of her arousal fills the air.

So fucking good.

“I…” She sounds so dismayed, so scared, and it’s so at odds with the needy perfume of her cunt that I draw back, terrified I’ve hurt her, or worse, made her rethink our relationship completely.

She takes a few steps back from me, putting distance between us, her lower lip wobbling as she moves.

I want to pounce on her. I want to sink my fangs into her lush skin, mark her and knot her.

But I would despise myself if I scared her more, and I stand still, my legs trembling from the effort.

“I would like to see you try,” she yells, and with that, she takes off, racing away from me with a high-pitched giggle that sets my soul on fire.

It takes me a moment to gather myself, to realize she’s not afraid—she’s excited, and she wants me to chase her.

I fucking love it.

“I will always find you,” I swear to an empty room, but the inn hears me, and I get the feeling she won’t evade me for very long.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

WREN

My hand’s clamped over my mouth, my attempt to stifle slightly hysterical laughter not quite working. The curtain I decided to hide behind shakes with it, and I do my best to contain myself.

Who knew I’d love being chased so much?

He’s hunted me through three rooms so far, always getting just so close, and then letting me go, allowing me to run away again.

The room I’ve chosen to run into now is lovely, decorated in shades of cream and cerulean, a huge arched window looking out over a garden I doubt any of us knew existed until today.

Hands grip my waist and I shriek, the noise turning to laughter first, then a moan.

“Mine,” Caelan murmurs and kisses the base of neck, making me melt against him. He’s hard against my back, and suddenly, I’m tired of running.

I want to be caught.

I start to turn around, to face him, but his hands keep me from moving.

“You like this, don’t you, my Wren?”

Instead of answering, I squirm, trying to get away again, my heart beating so loudly I’m surprised it’s not echoing off the walls.

Caelan hooks a foot around my shin, and I squeak as I start to fall. He catches me, holding my body tight against his so I can feel his heart, matching mine.

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