Page 60 of A Court of Sugar and Spice
He collapses beside me, swearing softly, over and over. I don’t recognize some of the words he includes—a Fae dialect, maybe.
“I never thought I would be able to do things like this, with anyone,” I murmur. “I thought I would marry a staid businessman and keep house for him, warm his bed, have his children. If I was lucky I’d get to paint a little. Either that, or I’d remain single, focused on my art, pleasing myself when I had the urge. This is—like a dream.”
I roll onto my side, gazing at him while he lies there on his back, his pink hair tousled and his face flushed.
“You’re very good at all of it. I know you’ve had decades of practice but—” I sigh contentedly. “You’re wonderfully talented. What you did just now—you knew exactly where to touch me.”
“That’s because I can feel it, with you,” he says slowly. “I’m connected to you somehow—not magically, nothing so concrete or precise—but I have a sense of your body, your mind, your pleasure. I can’t explain it. And I’ve never experienced it this strongly with anyone else.”
He pushes himself onto one elbow and leans in, sliding his hand across the back of my neck, under my hair. “You, my dearest darling, are someone I’ve only dreamed of meeting. I’m very afraid I won’t be able to let you go back to your world. I think I shall have to keep you here, with me.”
A delicious chill runs up my spine. “Keep me? For how long?”
“Maybe forever,” he whispers, pressing his lovely lips to mine.
We don’t speak of the future again, but we kiss for a long time before he conjures me a fresh set of clothes, picks me up, and flies me back to camp, just before dawn. When we land, he slips me a gumdrop and murmurs, “This will help with the scratches, blisters, and bruises. And it will keep you from being too tired.”
No one noticed our absence—or at least, that’s what I think until the next evening, when Louisa goes with me to fetch water at our campsite.
“I wish faeries could conjure water,” I complain, swinging the waterskins.
“It’s a ‘vital element’ or something,” she answers. “Only certain Fae can produce it, just like only certain Fae can produce fire. Apparently conjuring water is a rarer gift—it’s harder to make it in any decent quantity. Fire, on the other hand, grows by itself when given enough fuel.”
I raise an eyebrow at her, and she blushes. “Lir told me all about it.
“How is he? With the blood and such?” I ask. “You two sneak off almost every day. The others think you’re fucking.”
“No, still not fucking.” She plops onto a rock. “You and Finias are, though.”
“Hm?” I keep my eyes on the stream as I scoop water into one of the bottles.
“Last night? You two sneaked out of camp and didn’t come back for hours.”
“Oh. That.”
“What were you doing? It doesn’t take hours to have sex.”
“Sometimes it does,” I say primly. “If you’re playing games.”
“Oh my god,” she breathes, grinning. “Games? What games? You must tell me everything.”
“No, I mustn’t.” I can feel my blush deepening, my smile spreading.
Louisa watches me in silence for a moment. “Clara,” she says soberly. “Do you love him?”
“Of course not,” I say with a breathless laugh. “What a silly idea.”
“You can’t, you know. When this is done, we’re going home. They don’t want us here.”
I try to bite back the words, but I fail. “You mean Lir doesn’t wantyouhere. Fin wants me to stay.”
“Did heaskyou to stay?” she says doubtfully
“He said, ‘I think I shall have to keep you here, with me. Maybe forever.’” I shoot her a defiant look.
“That’s very noncommittal. Did he say it right after an orgasm?”
“That—that’s besides the point.”
