Page 107 of Destined for the Fae King

His glow flares brighter in a corona around us as he presses forward. I moan as he enters me, stretching almost to the pointof pain but not quite. A sharp curse slips from Lysandir. He bares his teeth, and I know he’s trying to take it slow, let me adjust.

“I can take it,” I tell him. “Give me everything.”

And so he does, bottoming out and holding himself still inside me. The feel of him is everything, like he was made for me and I for him. No one and nothing could ever be more perfect than this moment.

But then he moves, retreating and thrusting back in. And I was wrong. So wrong, because the pleasure is dizzying, so much more than I expected.

He fills me up in the best way, until there’s no him or me, just us.

A few more thrusts and I’m hanging on the edge, the knot of desire within me twisted up so tight I can barely think. “Lysandir. I’m—I’m going to—”

He growls against the crook of my neck. His scent fills my nose. It’s his warmth against mine. Everything is him. On his next thrust, I shatter, screaming my pleasure and bucking against him. His powerful form holds me to the sheets as he wrings out my desire, teasing it out with thrust after thrust until he flings his head back and roars his own pleasure.

We’re both a panting, sweaty mess, clinging together through the last waves of pleasure tingling under my skin. It’s then that I feel something cool slide under my skin near my hip. It circles once, twice, before settling.

“Mira. My Mira,” Lysandir pants. Our foreheads are pressed together, our breaths mingling. The pure love and adoration shining in his eyes makes my chest swell.

I cup his cheek.

“Yours,” I promise.

Lysandir slips from me with a groan and tumbles onto the bed at my side, still breathing heavily. His strong arm comes around me, pulling me half atop him. We lay that way for a minute, locked together, until his palm smooths down my side to settle on my hip. He rubs his thumb over the skin that had been cool just a moment ago.

“I feared I’d never see this,” he says.

The mark is beautiful, swirls of flame chasing each other in a circle. I can’t help but grin as I take it in. I’d always kind of wanted a tattoo but had never gotten one. A good thing, since none of them could ever compare to this. It’s a mark of love. A symbol of our bond.

“I want to see yours.” I scoot back on the coverings to get a good look at his hip. The mirror image of our mark is on him too. Just seeing it is like tossing fuel onto the smoldering fire of my desire, and I’d climb right back atop him in that moment if he were ready for it.

“What do you think?” he asks, almost hesitantly.

“I love them,” I reply. “And I meant what I said in front of your brother. I love you.”

He caresses my face, pushing hair back behind my ear. “I love you too, Mira. I will all my days if you’ll let me.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

We venture out of bed, not bothering with our clothes. I grab a blanket and wrap it around myself, but Lysandir doesn’t seem to have the same modesty and thankfully doesn’t mind me checking out all of his assets.

I wander toward the balcony, determined to finally learn a little more about this place he’s taken us. “A private retreat, huh? And you just happened to have it ready for us? Just in case?”

A small huff of laughter slips from him as he follows after me. “No. I took a risk that it wasn’t in use.”

“If it was?”

He smirks. “Then whoever was using it would have had quite a story to tell.”

A little laugh of my own bubbles up, but I nearly choke on it when I catch sight of the view beyond. We are high up on a mountain, clinging to its forested edge where it looms over a long valley.

“Is that Calida?” I point toward the large mass of buildings in the valley.

“It is. There are a number of other lodgings like this one around the mountainside, but it will be hard to see them among the trees.” They seem to hug the building on either side of the balcony, almost like its nestled among their branches. It might be.

The valley stretches out for some distance, full of lush, green life basking in the afternoon sun. But out near the horizon, the green vanishes in an almost straight line, giving way to browns and grays.

“What is that?” I point toward it.

Lysandir’s humor fades. “The Shadow Lands. Unseelie territory.”

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