Page 11 of Lord of the Hollow Court
Fae gods help him, he never could resist her. From the time Madeleif sought him out that night, he could be with no other again. The two of them fled in the night, away toward a rambling sea cottage that was hers alone. They made love to the sound of waves against the rocks until morning, and strode through the marshes together. They bathed together, dressed and undressed each other, laughed together and ate their meals tangled in each other’s limbs. They told each other their fears, talked of grief, comforted one another. His eyes scarcely left her for the six days they stayed at the cottage. She was fierce and gentle and beautiful. She confided in him, sharing secrets she said she’d told no other.
And then, on the sixth day, she slapped him. Hard. Afterward, she healed him with a kiss.
“My sweet Braam,” she whispered.
Yet tonight, it was only the memories of those early days together that allowed him to continue. He could no longer deny it. Something between them had changed.
Chapter Six
Lovers and Monsters
When at last they untangled for good, an hour had passed and Braam raised himself from the floor with a groan. The sound escaped despite the way he bit down, the way he tried to push back his pain and keep his low fae weaknesses at bay. The thought of Madeleif seeing him like this—the limitations of low fae healing on full display—left him disgusted with himself. When had he begun to hate his vulnerabilities? He did not think twice about them with anyone else. They were part of him—a painful one, but a part he must accept.
Even after so many years as lovers, he feared what she thought of him. Her casual remarks could be so cutting; her behavior in bed was so vicious when she wished to make a point. Braam feared she would roll over one day and realize what he already knew: he could not keep up with her any longer.
But she wasn’t even looking at him now. She lay on her back, arms over her head, breath barely quicker despite her vigorous efforts on both their behalves. There was a girlishness to her, despite her many decades of reign. An openness and a stubborn lack of shame for anything she did, any aspect of her body or her desires. It made Braam want to return to her side.
She caught the intention behind his eyes and raised herself. “Braam, you delicious boy,” she crooned. “I could bite you all over.”
He made a rumbling noise in his throat, covering his alarm. “You’re being silly now.”
“You bring it out in me.”
He couldn’t help himself. He turned back to her. “Do I, now?”
“You do. With you, I know I can say anything, ask anything.”
“Darling,” he said, sitting back on his haunches, “you can do anything you want. You’re queen. Boundaries are for others, remember?”
“What? I never said that.”
“You did.” Braam turned away from her. “Long ago.”
“Did I?” Madeleif laughed, her voice lower and so alluring. “Well, I’ve certainly tried to be uninhibited with other men. It isn’t the same unless it’s you. With you, I have complete dominion.”
He felt it—she was drawing him in again, even as something harsh bloomed in his chest. “Like what?” he inquired, his body inclining over hers despite his pain. “What have you tried?”
“Dear Braam,” she cooed. “Don’t ask, for I know you’ll be scandalized.” She batted her lashes. “Let’s say it involves a room full of fine young men and a week of rather exhausting nights.”
The color drained from Braam’s cheeks. She was right—he shouldn’t have asked. For all her declarations, words were not actions, and Madeleif had not visited him for a year. He withdrew from her immediately.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” she said with another laugh. “I’m only teasing. Didn’t you notice the creative wording? Even I do not have such appetites. Do I know women who do? Naturally. I admire their stamina. But I am not one of them.”
The tightness in Braam did not unwind. The feeling threatened to crush him, likegrief.He realized it would not have surprised him to learn she had a dozen other lovers. She could have more than that, if she wished. His defiant self had long-since gone silent, one who would grovel for her good favor taking its place. How did he always end up feeling this way with her? “I have no right to claim you for me alone,” he said.
“Of course you do. I’m only myself with you. Does that mean nothing?”
His shoulders lowered, the weight still upon him. “It doesn’t.”
“But it’s sostrange.” She exaggerated the word along with her confused expression. “What is the word for this feeling? Love? Or something like it?”
Warmth filled Braam’s chest. Lips parted in a smile, Madeleif reached for him, wrapping her arms around him, nails raking through his hair as she kissed him lightly, tenderly, mindful of the split in his lip. With only a little pressure, she bent him towards her with ease. He was helpless in her arms, which tightened as they traveled down his back, one arm winding around his ribs. Her body was cool beneath his, her presence steadying. As his tongue met hers, moving slowly and sensually in their familiar pattern, he felt his ribs shift.
It was in these moments of vulnerable affection that he understood it most: Madeleif could dash his bones to splinters if she wished. She had not gone easy on him tonight, and now even his back had cause to protest, popping as she pulled him down atop her. That dissatisfaction he’d felt—almost desperation at this point—edged into his momentarily emptied mind, like a hair slipped beneath his collar. Braam slapped a palm on to the floor beside her, pushing his body away.
She saw it and felt it as well as he did. Their passionate kiss had stirred nothing in him but a throb in his torn lip.
Madeleif pulled him tighter, rising to meet him, her tongue and hands more urgent now. When their mouths parted, she whispered, “Tell me one of your lies, Braam.”
