Page 58 of Fae Champion

I halted in front of my door and waited, well aware of his routine. With one hand pressed to the door handle, the other to the hilt of his sword, Rush asked, “Is that what you want? To sleep?”

Of course that’s not what I want!Agitated irritation roiled through me with such unexpected ferocity that I probably wouldn’t wind down enough to rest at all before the match tomorrow.

“Yes, I want to sleep,” I snarled, even as I wondered why I’d say such a stupid thing.

His shoulders lowered, and his “Okay” was soft, a whisper that felt like defeat. Then he swept into the antechamber to my room holding me against him, and shut the door. Orbs awakened, glowing warmly, as he searched every corner of my rooms for intruders.

When he finally turned toward me again, his silver eyes swirling with a conflict he didn’t share with me, he announced, “It’s safe.”

Only … he was my number one enemy.

With him, I wasn’t safe at all.

Without warning, and without even knowing I’d do it, I slammed my mouth against his, our teeth clashing during the instant it took him to dispel his shock and respond. Then his fingers dug into my hips while his tongue parted my lips. He tugged me flush againsthis body and consumed me—my tongue, my breath, my lips, all of it melded with him.

And still I wanted more.

He wanted more too, the fire West had doused earlier with his interruption reignited. Rush’s hands trailed across every part of my body with a frenzy that suggested he wished he could touch me everywhere at once—if only!

I returned the favor, squeezing his shoulders, firm behind, and raking my nails across the hard ridges of his abdomen and back, his muscles prominent even beneath his shirt and coat.

I slapped my hands to his ass again and jerked him against me while I wrapped my leg around his hips and balanced on one spindly heel. With the proper motivation, I was a damn goddess in these ridiculous shoes. I never wanted to take them off so long as there was no ceasing what we were doing.

His mouth insistent on mine, he groaned into me as his large hand ran the length of my leg, holding my calf tightly against his delicious rear end. I half tried to climb him while I kissed him with the kind of abandon that pushed away any thoughts of my inexperience. The extent of my practice might have only been a few makeout sessions with Xeno, but I’d imagined going farther than that plenty of times, and Rush wasn’t complaining.

His dick was hard as stone against my pulsing core, my skirt draped around my thighs, exposingmy bare flesh.

He scooped a hand under my behind and pulled me upward. As if I’d been doing this with him all our lives, I knew what he wanted, and easily wrapped my other leg around his waist, hooking together my ankles.

He moaned against my mouth as if I were the most scrumptious fruit he’d ever tasted, and I thought I might lose my mind with all its stupid, useless worries.

First, he slipped one hand under my skirt, then the other, until both hot hands gripped my ass cheeks around a scrap of lace Pru had picked out for me. He squeezed them and thrust, the hard ridge of him sweeping across my soaking center.

When he trailed his tongue across my throat, I threw my head back to give him better access, and he lapped at the point between my collarbones where my pulse was erratic, frantic, desperate for so much more.

“Bed,” I muttered, my usual eloquence distilling to grunts and monosyllabic orders. “Now.”

I hoped Pru would know to stay away. After the interruption with West, I wasn’t going to stop for anyone.

The guys were otherwise occupied, and Pru had to know I’d be as dangerous as the queen herself if she were to try to interfere now.

Rush thrust against me another time, and I threw my head back so far that I could see the ample bed behind me.

“Bed,” I repeated.

He nipped at my earlobe, I yelped, and he ran to the mattress, tossing me onto it with such delightfulabandon that I bounced, laughing as if I hadn’t a care in the world. A second later he was on top of me, his arms caging me in as they had the first night we’d kissed.

Like a beast, he growled, his eyes flaring. I squirmed beneath him as excitement zinged up and down my body, leaving my extremities tingling.

Finding his belt buckle, I unclasped it. He jumped off me, lightning-fast, knelt on the bed, slipped off his sheath and belt, and placed them on the bedside table. In the next breath he was on me again, kicking off his boots. They landed loudly on the floor—thump, thwump.

I struggled to remove his jacket, so he helped shrug it off. I yanked his tunic over his head, then flung it with such abandon that it snagged a light orb on its way down, deepening the shadows across his face, sharpening the line beneath his cheekbones, the stubble across his jaw.

Unabashedly, I licked my lips, running my hands all over his chest, up and down, side to side … then I slipped them below the waistband of his shorts.

He stilled and grabbed my fingers, dragging tender kisses up and down my arm before lowering to the bed beside me. He propped his head up with his hand and looked at me.

I rolled to the side and hooked my leg once more around his hip, pulling him toward me.

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