Page 13 of Brutal Fae King
“What?” she growls.
Her audacity is stunning, but again, I can’t help but laugh; it’s been years since anyone has dared to speak to me in such a way.
“I need you to undress me,” I tell her.
For once, her stoic expression changes. Her eyes widen a little bit. Her soft, rose lips part just a little. I smirk.
“Oryou can tell me what you know,” I say. “Your choice.”
She just stares at me for a moment.
Yes. She’ll talk now.
Then, she closes her eyes and sucks in a deep breath. Her face returns to her usual position, mostly neutral but with just the smallest touch of disgust.
“Fine,” she says.
That gives me pause.
I… didn’t expect her to agree.But I can’t back out now; it’ll make me look weak.
She approaches me. She sucks in a deep breath, and she reaches toward me. She keeps her gaze low as her hands move under the hem of my shirt. Her fingers graze my skin, and a tremor crackles through me like electricity.
Is she using her lightning powers on me?!
The backs of her fingers touch my stomach.There’s a hot streak across my skin as she lifts my shirt up. I stare at her face as she does. She’s averting her gaze, a deep red inching across her cheeks. After a second, the shirt won’t go any further. We pause, and she looks up at me. Her eyes are so very green, andher brown hair is so very glossy… It looks soft. Looking up at me like that… she looks… sweet.
“I-I need you to lift your arms.” She tries to sound strong, but there’s a wobble in her voice.
I give a little grunt and lift my arms up. Her hands continue crawling up my body, pulling the shirt up and over my head. I’m getting hotter and hotter as her hands move over me.
Is she… casting her spell?
When the shirt comes up over my head and I can see again, she’s so close to me… I can feel her chest almost resting on mine, she’s standing so close. Her nose almost brushes mine as she turns her head to look at me. Her eyes are so deep. She looks at me for a long moment. Then she backs away a little and walks around to where the shirt has gotten caught on my wings.
Once she’s behind me, she slowly starts to peel the shirt off my back.
“Your wings…” She murmurs.
A prickle runs over my skin. My wings start to fold down, but I fight it so she can take the shirt off.
“I know. It was a long time ago,” I answer before I can stop myself.
I feel her continue to take the shirt off. Most people don’t notice the scars my step-brother left there until they’re up close.
She brushes the shirt off my wings, and a deep shiver runs through me.
What is this woman doing to me?
She walks around to my front again, my shirt in her hand. Her eyes are still looking down, but this time, she’s not averting her eyes from me. She’slookingat me. Directly at me.
I watch her scan her eyes up and down my body, as much as she may try to hide it.
And I like it.
I watch her look over me for a moment—and then her eyes snap up to me again when she realizes I’m watching. A little intimidation passes over her face as she meets my gaze again. She keeps looking at me for a moment and then glances down.
There’s only one more thing left. She looks down and then meets my eyes again. Then, the usurper steps forward, reaches her hands out, and takes hold of the top of my waistband.
