Page 43 of Lord of the Hollow Court
It waswondrous.If this was fae magic, she wanted more of it for all her days.
“Fascinating?” Braam rumbled beside her, the deep rhythm of his breaths breaking as if rousing from sleep. “Did you call it fascinating? I should hope it was more than that. You certainly gave that impression.”
Katty’s eyes narrowed. “I meant it was veryinteresting.”
Braam snorted. “Is this a human custom? Do your people have a penchant for understatement, or was it really just that to you?” He tilted his body to face her, his skin almost golden in the dim light. She could see that already familiar furrow in his brow, as if he did not know what a marvel he’d been.
Katty suddenly wished she could pull the cape up over her head. She rolled her head to the other side, burying her cold cheek in the fur of her mantle. She still couldn’t find the right words. “It wasn’t what I expected,” she said, blushing deeper. This wasn’t at all what she wanted to say.
Braam’s laugh was a low rumble carried by the loam. “And here I thought I’d taken your breath away. I’ll have to do far better next time.”
“Next time?Better?” Neither term made sense. How could anything be better thanthat?Katty turned her head back to her husband and blushed all over again. He’d made no effort to cover himself—and clearly saw no need. Maybe if she looked as good as he did, she’d feel the same way. She felt...lumpynext to the sculpted gold of his body. “We have to do the ceremony again?”
Braam propped himself up, wincing slightly as he rolled onto his side to face her. A faint pop came from his hip. “No, the ceremony is done.Haveto, little fox? You don’t wish to repeat what we’ve just done?” He reached his hand into the space between them, skimming it along the loam, then the cloak, until his hand arrived at Katty’s contours. “Are you certain of that?” he questioned, all smoothness and certainty as he traced the line of her hip.
Turning his hand, he ran the back of it down the front of Katty’s hip, stopping at the top of her thigh. She trembled at his touch, his body warming instantly. He moved nearer, the lantern light falling over his skin.
Katty gasped. “You’re golden.”
Braam laughed immediately. “You can see it, can you? Sometimes the right lighting brings it out.”
Her hand touched him shyly. “Are you—are all fae—?”
“No,” he replied, knowing her mind once again. “I’m descended from the Golden Fae of the Americas. Though there isn’t much of their blood left in my line, I’m afraid. They left these lands long ago, taking much of their knowledge with them.”
She flattened her hand against his chest, not wishing to be presumptuous. To trace the elevations of his chest the way she wished to, or run her fingers through that silver-touched hair. Her husband was silver and gold. How glorious—how strange!
“Where did they go?” Katty asked.
“Many of them married fae of the Elder Courts, of Europe, Asia and Africa. Some more still would not consort with the fae, preferring to go west, away from all the newcomers. As more arrived, and as more children of the Elder and New World Courts were born, they went farther and farther west, until they reached the sea.”
Her brow furrowed. “What happened to them?”
“No one knows.” His expression teetered between pining and grief. “Some say they joined the sea fae. Some that they traveled by boat, looking for new lands to live in sovereign peace. All we do know is that they disappeared, and took much of the culture with them. And for them, culture and magic were nearly synonymous. They’ve left a void the fae world can never replenish. Even their language, now, is dead.” He breathed out slowly, his breath skimming her bare skin. “I often wonder if I wouldn’t be the way I am if they were here, or if their culture had been passed to my parents and to me. Perhaps I wouldn’t have spent my life trying to please the High Fae.”
“The ones who hunted me?” Katty wrinkled her nose. “Whatever would make you want their good opinion?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I truly don’t anymore.”
A sweet smile broke his sad reverie. He reached out, brushing her arm with the back of his hand. She pressed into his chest, then slid her fingers into his chest hair. A wicked glint lit his eyes.
“What about the reception?” Katty asked softly, dragging her hand across his broad chest. Once more, they found there way to the hair upon it. Who knew a touch of silver there made a man so appealing?
The half smile on his face said that he was aware of its effect on her. The mischievous cast to his expression told her he meant to make the most of it, too.
And oh, how she wanted him to!
“The party,” she reminded, a bit of insecurity creeping in. But her voice was feeble when she said it.
Instead of replying, he moved closer, hand sliding beyond her thigh and tracing a line up her rump, toward the small of her back. With astonishing ease, he tipped her body toward his. The act left the concealment of the cloak behind.
Here they were again, naked as babes. Face to face. Body to body. A thrill ran down Katty’s back. She couldn’t help but feel as though she was doing something naughty—as though she’d learned some secret the world had been keeping from her.
“Are you still in a hurry to go,” Braam asked her, “Lady of the Hollow Court?”
A rush of boiling heat filled her, traveling to her core and then lower, to the places he’d touched her and made her feel delights she had not known possible. Did all wedding ceremonies feel this magnificent, this liberating? She was glad, for the first time, that her husband was a fae and not a human. This was one tradition she did not think she could do without.
“I’m in no hurry,” she whispered, “my lord husband.” Her words drew out to a purr she had not known herself capable of.
