Page 19 of Mountain Man's Muse
“The ones who hurt me. I’m here because of them.” She tried to stay with the truth, or at least such truth as could be had from the faedrealii. “Our queen accused me of treason and wanted me dead. I’m trying to avoid that fate.”
He brushed back her hair. “I’m with you on that. On everything.”
She smiled, though her throat tightened. No one else in a court of fae who had supposedly loved her had been with her. Not a one of them had spoken on her behalf. Maybe there was a downside to not knowing anyone’s true name; there was no one to call out to and no one who would answer.
She touched his chest through the rip in his coat and murmured in distress when her fingers encountered long scratches. “You took more damage than Wolly. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
His arm behind her shoulder tightened for a moment. “Let me get that skillet first.”
When he returned from the kitchen, she threaded her fingers through his and led him to the bedroom. With careful hands, they stripped each other naked, avoiding her burns and his slashes, then he guided her into the shower. They left the light off, and the stars through the skylight turned the steam to liquid silver.
She bit her lip as he gently cleaned her burned hand and then pressed a kiss to her knuckles.
“You hurt yourself to help me,” he murmured.
“Actually, it was Wolly who was in trouble,” she reminded him.
“You hurt yourself to help my dog,” he amended. “Should I admit that makes me love you more?”
Her heartbeat stuttered. Love? “Josh…”
He kissed her. “Don’t worry about it. Not your fault I fall for impossible women. My ex-wife only wanted to live in a real city. But you, you’re a damn fairy princess. You probably live in a castle.”
She did not correct him on the fairy princess part, nor did she try to dismiss his comment about falling. She was musetta. She existed to inspire passions.
In silence, she cleansed his wounds, taken for her. Imps were vile but not toxic, and Josh’s coat had protected him from the worst of the damage.
No,shewas the fae who would hurt him.
They anointed each other with the last of the salve she had brought. Then she led him to his bed and into her body, trying to give as much of herself as she could. Though what did she really have? She had come into his world carrying only a few spores and her intent to betray his friend. She would leave only a withered toadstool ring and more emptiness around him.
For his part, he worked her body with an almost cruel gentleness, rousing her to a fierce wanting she thought would tear her apart. He teased and stroked her to the edge of release, his tongue and cock finding every aspect of her pleasure. Each time, he drew back, leaving her panting and longing, only to provoke her higher until she could take no more. With a cry, she arched into him, convulsing around him. He plunged into her with abandon, and she almost hoped he had all but forgotten her in his own fury until she looked up and found him staring down. She came again with his name on her lips, but before she could say more—what she intended, she had no idea—he kissed her and shuddered into her depths.
Afterward, he pulled the comforter around them in a cocoon. She could almost imagine it was a sort of portal, taking them to a hidden place even the Wild Hunt couldn’t find.
He tucked her close under his arm and she kissed his chest.
“Josh?”
“Mmm?”
“About…about you falling…”
His arm tightened, not a hug, more a warning. “It’s nothing.”
It wasn’t nothing. She didn’t want it be nothing, even though that would be best. “A musetta—a muse—inspires. That is what we do. That is what we are. We inspire…feeling. And passions.”
“So you said.”
There was an edge to his voice, but she couldn’t stop. “What you feel isn’t—”
“I’m only half blind, and I’ve been around myself long enough to know what I feel.” He kissed the top of her head and sat up. Cold air rushed into the space he left. “I want to check on Wolly and walk around once more. It’s okay if you fall asleep.”
He didn’t return for a long time, and her tears where they soaked the tartan plaid turned the yellow threads to gold.
Chapter 8
In the first rays of morning light, Josh finished fixing the last iron blade to the wooden mop handle. The spear looked weirdly exotic in a log cabin. But no more out of place than the fairy princess in his bed.
