Page 9 of The Midnight King

I bristle at the insult to my efforts. “I didn’t have much to work with—a castoff dress of my stepsisters and some scraps. I did my best.”

“I’m sure you did,” he says in a patronizing tone. “I do pity you mortals. So limited by the mundane reality of an existence without magic.”

“I don’t much care for magic,” I reply. “It has never brought me anything but misery.”

He glances at me keenly. “Let’s see if we can change that, shall we? But before we begin, there’s a small matter we need to discuss. The ‘granting of my grace,’ as your watch says.”

I haven’t forgotten the second part of the inscription.A kiss grants his grace.

“So I need to kiss the watch?” I say hopefully, although I’m fairly sure that’s not what it means.

“Very funny,” he replies with a knowing smirk. “No, you’ll be kissing me. Try not to stab me with anything, there’s a good girl.”

“This is some Faerie bargain nonsense, isn’t it?” I grumble.

“Indeed. Though there are other ways to seal a bargain. One of my favorites involves the joining of other body parts, ratherthan the lips.” His smirk widens to a naughty smile. “Perhaps you’d prefer that?”

Heat suffuses my cheeks. Though I’m a virgin, I’m by no means ignorant on the topic of sex. When I steal newspapers from the refuse bin of our neighbor down the lane, I sometimes find discarded leaflets among the pages—leaflets full of naughty stories and pictures. I’m not sure who in that house subscribes to the leaflet—whether it’s the husband, the wife, or the elderly aunt who lives with them—but I’ve gained plenty of detailed carnal knowledge from those scavenged papers.

Nevertheless, I don’t plan to touch the Faerie beyond what is absolutely necessary. I don’t trust him, not for a moment. My father may have had faith in this creature—but he also trusted Gilda.

“A kiss will do,” I tell the Faerie, steeling myself for the act. If I kiss him quickly, I won’t have to think about it.

He stands up, still with that lazy, suggestive smile on his mouth. Before he can make a move, I seize the lapels of his coat, rise on my toes, and peck his lips lightly before retreating several steps away.

The Faerie stares at me. “That wasn’t a kiss. There has to be an exchange.”

“Of what? Saliva?” I grimace.

“You act as if I’m some warty toad from the garden,” he says with a rueful laugh. “Surely the idea of kissing me can’t be that repugnant. Or perhaps you’ve had bad experiences with kissing as well as with magic.”

“No,” I reply, averting my eyes.

“Perhaps you’ve had no experience with kissing at all.” His tone is wondering, delighted. “That’s the truth, isn’t it? You’ve never kissed a man, and you’re a virg—”

“None of that has anything to do with our bargain,” I snap. “If the kiss I gave you wasn’t good enough, just kiss me and get it over with.”

“Just what I’ve always wanted to hear from a woman,” he says dryly. He comes up to me, slipping his long fingers around the back of my head. Then he leans down and kisses me.

His mouth is impossibly smooth and soft. The tip of his tongue probes gently between my lips, and when I part them, his tongue slides into my mouth. Instinctively I open a little more, letting him in. The way his tongue glides against mine is the most arousing thing I have ever felt. My entire body buzzes awake, flaming up like a dormant fire stirred to life.

But caution sparks in my mind, too. I’ve read about Faeries, and I know their reputation for charming their way into the hearts and beds of unwary humans. I’m already risking enough as it is—I will not yield my body to someone who might be more dangerous than my stepmother.

Still, the fucker knows how to use his tongue. This kiss is easily the most wonderful thing I’ve experienced in years. I’ve been so worn out for weeks that I haven’t had any energy or inclination to pleasure myself, and I’m suddenly conscious that my body has needs, powerful ones.

What if I added one more thing to my list of plans for tonight? What if I found someone at the ball, someone human, who could kiss me like this and give me pleasure? My stepmother prizes my virginity and has explicitly forbidden me to have sex with any of the young men in the region… but that command has a few loopholes I can exploit. There might be a delicious freedom in defying her while also pleasing myself.

With a final swirl of his tongue over mine, the Faerie breaks the kiss. “There. A proper exchange has been made, and the bargain is struck. Now take off your clothes.”

Shocked, I back away from him, pressing one hand to my stomach and the other to my chest. “What?”

“I could take them off you with magic, but I thought that might be rather rude. Wouldn’t you prefer to do it yourself?”

“And why would I undress for you?” I ask, sidling toward the iron poker beside the fireplace.

“I need to see your body, so I can create the right look for you. This shapeless sack you’re wearing conceals your form.”

“It’s not a shapeless sack,” I retort, but inwardly I know he’s right. The brown dress I’m wearing used to be Vashli’s, and it hangs loosely on my body. I see the logic in what he’s saying, but the idea of stripping down to my underwear in front of him sends a rush of hot blood into my cheeks. “I’m not comfortable undressing for someone like you.”

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