Page 27 of A City of Emeralds and Envy
“I think you want to watch,” I throw at him.
“Maybe I do.”
His candid admission catches me off guard. How I wish I could see his face right now… “Then you—you think he’s pretty.”
“Any being with eyes can see that he’s beautiful.” In a lower, more grudging tone, he adds, “During my stay here, I occasionally served as guard over the prison where he and other sacrifices were kept. He reminds me a bit of Finias, only Jasper is far more Seelie. In fact, he’s the most Seelie Fae I’ve ever encountered. Just now he kept thanking me for carrying him, praising my strength—yet if not for you, I would have left him behind to die. He’s too soft and gentle. Unfit for existence. No wonder they wanted to sacrifice him.”
“I don’t have much experience with Seelie Fae, but I agree he’s one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met. Far nicer than most humans.”
“And that doesn’t bother you?”
“Why should it?”
“Extravagant goodness is irritating.”
“Perhaps because it reminds people of a moral standard they’ve failed to meet, an expectation they have not fulfilled,” I say coolly.
“Or perhaps it is annoying because truly good people rarely know how to have fun.”
I snort. “Like you’re the king of fun.” I do my best imitation of his voice—serious and darkly dramatic. “‘No, kitten, I cannot allow myself tosnugglewith you and Caer, or indulge in your frivolous games. I must study and dissect and experiment during every spare minute.’”
“I know how to have fun,” Riordan counters. “You met me when I was deeply engrossed in the small matter of saving the entire Unseelie Kingdom from the ravages of a cursed Queen. And still I found time to gamble with Caer and lick you to climax—”
“That doesn’t count!” I interrupt, blood rushing to my cheeks. “You did that so I would fall asleep, so you could take my dreams.”
His voice is lower, softer. “Surely you don’t believe that was the only reason?”
“I… I suppose…”
“Your scent was maddening, Alice. It still is. The way I crave—” He breaks off the sentence.
We sit there, he and I—his silent bulk, expressionless except for the tension of his posture—and my squirming, blushing, heated self.
“You’re aroused. And I’d like to watch you come,” he says at last. “I enjoyed it then, and I want to witness it again. And if I can’t pleasure you myself, I can watch him do it.”
I swallow hard. “I remember you losing your mind over Caer nesting with me. You told him I belonged toyou.”
“Caer is different. That selfish little bastard will take anything good all for himself. Never learned to share. But I suspect this youth has too noble a heart to crave sole possession of you. Besides, once I’m free of this cursed armor, I will…”
He stops himself.
I stare at the helmet, listening to his labored breathing. “You’ll what, Riordan?” I ask softly. “What will you do to me?”
Low and rough, an answering whisper. “I’ll fuck you.”
“Tell me how.” I press in closer, aching for him. “Tell me all the ways you’ll fuck me.”
A long silence, so lengthy that I start to pull away, and then he says, “After I saved you, I held myself back from taking you again, because I knew if I did, I would not be able to let you go. But you found your way back to this realm, reckless girl, and all I can think of is stripping you bare, laying you flat on your back, and burying my face between your legs. I want to drink you like wine, savor your liquid like the sweetest syrup. When you walk through Faerie, I want to know that your thighs are slick with need for me, and your words are flavored with my cum. I will splay you on my silver table, pin your beautiful pussy wide open, and study every tiny bit of your flesh until I find the most delicate ways of teasing out your desire. You will climax again and again, until you can scarcely bear to be touched, and still I will force you to come for me. I will watch every spasm, and then bathe your sore little clit with my tongue.”
My fingers have crept between my thighs, and I’m burning, flaming, barely breathing. When he lets himself confess his feelings, Riordan can give the most shockingly erotic speeches.
“I wish you could touch me,” I breathe.
“At least you can touch yourself,” he says hoarsely. “I’ve been like this for months, and now that you’re here, I am so hard I can barely think, kitten. I may go mad.”
“Don’t,” I whisper, pressing my palm to his breastplate. “We need you.Ineed you, Riordan.”
“Fuck…” The word cracks from him. “I almost came when you said that. I think—I think I could come without a touch, if presented with the right view. It would be an immense relief.”
