Page 64 of Fairies Don't Fall

He relaxed his jaws, then licked me from my shoulder, neck, and head. A surprisingly dry kiss for a werewolf, but lupin sorcerers weren’t as spitty. Apparently. You learn something every day.

I’d just been licked by Slaughter. This couldn’t be happening. I blinked up at his face. He was holding me, but not pinning my head, so I could actually see those creepy gold eyes with ropes of infernal red woven through them.

He smiled, showing sharp fangs, the wide mouth that could split wide enough to take half of my body.

I looked down at my chest and saw what I was wearing. What was I wearing? It was purple, and kind of silky, but it felt alien, as otherworldly as my consort-mate. I had tiny rips in the shapeless dress where he’d drawn blood, one drop for each of the four fangs he’d had on me. As I watched, the fabric slowly grew back together in a creepy way that made me shudder. I was wearing something Slaughter had made for me while I’d been sleeping. It felt like his possession.

I swallowed hard and tried to sound like I wasn’t freaking out. “Not enough blood to do anything with.” My brain was spinning from shock. I’d just had half my body in Slaughter’s jaws. How was I not dead? Maybe I was. I wished I was from the growing horror of wearing purple silk made out of his magic. I’d drawn first blood, so he’d been reciprocating. But he wouldn’t give me pain, because my pain didn’t give him any pleasure. But his pain clearly gave me pleasure. Otherwise, why would the skin on his back be roiling around like a nauseous alligator? No sense. Everything was madness.

And I was wearing his magic. Probably woven out of his blood. How perfect for a death fairy.

“Is this flirting?” I asked, looking up into those creepy eyes. They were stunningly terrifying, glowing so brightly that my soul felt singed. Maybe that was shame from being stupid enough to sleep with some unconscious mostly naked guy. Not that Slaughter would ever be ‘some guy.’ I’d never felt so vulnerable and bewildered. How did I get here? And why did my skin tingle in a not-entirely unpleasant way where he’d licked me? His tongue shouldn’t be pleasant, particularly when I was in Slaughter’s power. What had I been thinking? Not about the fact that he’d wake up at some point. That was certain.

His brow flickered while the rest of his face gave away nothing. “I only flirt with danger.”

Seriously? He’d just said that? This monster with infernal runes in his skin could say something that cheesy? I stared into those mesmerizing eyes that screamed, ‘Danger! Run! Put your own clothes on, preferably armor!’ That line screamed something else entirely.

I slowly reached up and touched his cheek, tracing the jaw that had been stretched so wide around me. “And if I asked you nicely to let me go?”

That jaw flexed under my fingertips into a devious smile. “I would consider for a long moment and then refuse.”

I scowled at him. “You don’t care how nicely I ask.”

He smiled slightly. So creepy. It showed the tips of his fangs. “No, I don’t.” His voice was low, but so smooth, so dangerous, and mocking.

“Let me go!” I thumped against his chest until he pinned my hand between us. I gasped as the feel of his chest pressed against mine. That dress wasn’t like usual flower petals or silk. I could feel him in the fabric, so I felt him doubly so whenwe were pressed together. So much strength in him. So much vulnerability in me.

“No,” he murmured, his voice caressing me while his eyes flickered more golden, so meltingly hot.

I writhed in his arms, desperate to get away from him before the heat devoured my mind entirely. “You can’t keep me here forever!”

He brushed his nose against my jaw, sending tremors of terror and a flicker of pleasure through me. “That’s a theory that would need to be proven. I’m willing to test your hypothesis extensively.”

The pleasure was so humiliating. I stiffened up and tried to look dignified. Hard to do when you’re wearing a dress of infernal magic, secured by a monster. “What will you let me do?”

He narrowed his gaze thoughtfully. “I will allow you to impose your sweet pain upon me.”

I pressed against him and only came to a more clear knowledge of exactly how muscled he was. “I don’t want your pain. I want my friend, Max.”

He growled, a terrifying rumble that made my whole body tremble. “He is not your friend, but your betrayer. He would never tell you about his darkest side, however close he let you come.”

I frowned up at him. “Will you tell me about your darkest side?”

“I don’t have to tell you what you can see so clearly.” He bared his teeth in something that was absolutely not a smile. Then he licked me again, this time his tongue trailing up my neck so slowly, sending heat and awareness through me like lava crossing the land.

I shivered. “No, I don’t mean your vicious, cruel, cunningly evil lupin sorcerer, but your cuddly, soft, altruistic wolf who cuddles fairies and holds hands. That dark side. The one thisvision of fright would deny as readily as Max would deny you. You need a therapist. Having all these sides at odds with each other has to be confusing to more than me, your apparent mate.” I winced when I said that word, but he only raised his head to study me thoughtfully.

“Therapy? You ate the heart of the only person who understood me.” He grinned at me. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than that delicate hand, ripping his beating heart from his chest. And then you devoured the devourer. Poetic perfection.” He licked me again, this time my ear.

I sniffed and then squirmed. I didn’t expect him to appreciate that kind of nuance, but as he was always saying, he was Max and his beast loved poetry. His tongue was so hot, it was doing weird things to me, things like Shotglass wanted to do to Max. Was Slaughter seducing me? Fresh panic slammed through me like a door breaking a toe. “Slaughter, why did you give your will to Malamech in the first place?” He had to stop licking me. If he was talking, he wasn’t licking.

He raised his head, eyes so incredibly knowing, but he humored me with an answer. “He promised me knowledge. Power. Freedom. The last was a lie.”

He bent his head again, and that time his tongue caressed my shoulder, then down my arm towards my elbow. Why did he feel so good? Probably because he was my consort, so every touch, every taste, sent a wave of strength and absolute happiness through me. Also pleasure. And that dress did nothing to block the feel of him.

“How did you betray him if he had your will?” I spoke unsteadily, my chest rising and falling too fast as the sensations became too much mixed with all the other tumult in my head.

“He lost my will,” he rumbled without raising his head.

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