Page 59 of The Crown of a Fallen Queen
“Fuck. Don’t stop.”
Her eyes dance. “You like that, Seth?”
“Yes,” I growl.
She stops abruptly, unfeeling, while I’m about to come from just the touch of her hand alone. “Tough luck. Byron left.” She moves to escape, but I roll us over.
“Oh no you don’t,” I whisper, testing the waters, checking if she’ll let me lead.
Our noses touch. I can almost see the war raging inside her beautiful, sexy head. She pats my throbbing length, each vibration reverberating in my spine, my legs, my very soul. “Down, Seth.”
Fleeing my embrace, she rolls from underneath me and enters the ensuite bathroom. I fall to the mattress, gloriously unsatisfied, and stare down at the bulge in my pants, gritting my teeth together.
“You’re a cruel, cruel woman,” I shout after her.
She laughs at that, the sound joyful and mischievous, and my lids flutter.
Fuuuck.
A halo of light frames her naked silhouette as she obscures the doorway. “I’m taking a shower,darling. You can show yourself out.”
I adjust the pillows behind my back. “I’m not going anywhere. I like to cuddle after fake sex.”
She disappears without a word. The door closes behind her, then springs back open by an inch, the inviting gap bathed in golden light.
The shower turns on, and my stomach clenches. The thought of her warm and naked under the spray… How many nights of this sort can one Spring Fae survive? How am I expected to keepmy head while Devi fucking Eros grinds herself on me, off-limits, while I’m forbidden from touching her.
That witch knows exactly what she’s doing. She hates me. She loathes my mother. And I’d bet it’s all part of her evil plan to drive me mad, one “we’re just playing a part” at a time.
My hand creeps lower, desperate to take the edge off, but I’m not sure that would help. It’s humiliating. Rules or no rules, I won’t take this abuse lying down. Two can play at this game. Devi Eros must have a weak link.
And it’s up to me to find it.
The inch of empty space at the door wrecks my brain. Was it a mistake? Seems like an odd mistake to make, given the situation. An invitation, then? What if this was an invitation meant to look as a mistake, just so she’d have plausible deniability?
I need… I don’t know what I need, but I’m not thinking straight when I curl a hand around the door frame and enter the bathroom. Steam from the shower hangs thick and hot in the air, and I merge with it without meaning to. My senses are different when I turn into a cloud, a mist, or a strong breeze. I can’tsee, exactly, but I canfeelmy surroundings, and Devi’s beauty stings my heart. Her long red braids are tucked away under a black, silky shower cap, leaving her smooth, freckled shoulders bare. Rivulets of water roll down her breasts, following the paths laid out by her scars.
A deep sigh shudders through her body as she leans against the wall, eyes closed.
What happens next unravels me. Her small hand sneaks down her body and dips below her stomach.
Fuck me.
I can’t stay. Can’t look. She doesn’t know I’m here. I need to leave before I do something I regret.
“Seth,” she says, but her sight travels through me. “Seth,” she purrs, leaving no question to what she’s doing.
She’s moaning my name.
My knees buckle, my hold on the magic wavering. I’m fucking powerless to stop my descent and condense back into flesh on my side of the glass, leaning against it not to topple over.
Devi gasps, and we have a silent conversation.Are you really spying on me while I shower?she asks, eyes narrowed.
Are you touching yourself thinking of me?And there’s no guile in my question, no cockiness, just pure, unadulterated need.
A sultry chuckle falls from her lips, and she steps forward, pressing a palm to the glass where my left hand is resting, the other still at the apex of her thighs.
“Alright, you can look. But you can't touch.” She chuckles again.
