Page 39 of A City of Emeralds and Envy
Abruptly I’m back in the forest, in the liquid gloom of green leaves and golden magic, while the West Witch stares at me with shattered black eyes.
Jasper and Riordan are still motionless, but their illusions have shifted to harmless dreams, like Fiero’s. I barely note the change before I meet the Witch’s gaze again.
The air between us thickens, a heated throb of blood, of lust, of tension tightening, coiling and coiling until—
I snap and lunge for him. He wraps one hand around my skull and crushes my mouth to his, and it isn’t pleasant, it’s brutal, wretched, savage. There’s blood in my mouth—I’m not sure which of us bit the other.
His scent crashes into my mind—-cold wind and the vivid freshness of green grass. I suck in great breaths of him, desperate for that fragrance. His teeth scrape along my jaw; he sucks on the sensitive skin of my neck, leaving a bright bloom of pain behind when he releases it.
My fingers tear into his clothing, wriggling into the gaps, anywhere I can touch his hot flesh. I want to slice him open and drink him down.
With my hair doubled around his hand, he yanks my head backward and grips my jaw, brutalizing my mouth, lips and teeth and flaming liquid tongue. I make a sound—not a whimper, more like a frustrated half-scream, and I wrench at the row of tiny hooks keeping his black pants closed tight. They yield to me—he pushes them down and tugs out his cock, smooth and green.
A quick blast of magic, and I’m knocked to the ground, the breath gone from my lungs. He leaps on top of me—he’s shoving up my skirts, tearing aside everything in his way. I am volcanic, molten, a river of heat, and Idemandto be filled. If he does not get inside me now I willscream.
His nails rake my thighs, drawing blood as he spreads me wide open, lines up his cock head, and shoves inside me in one brutal rush. His lean body hunches over mine, his chest and throat right above my face. Every explosive thrust is a shock to my senses. I can’t breathe. I reach up, grab fistfuls of his hair, and pull until he snarls and shoves both my wrists down, pinning them to the ground while he fucks me viciously.
I’ve always had to be quiet during sex. But this time—gods, the sound of it, the thick, wet, sloppy noises—and I still can’t breathe, not until he slaps the side of my face lightly and barks, “Breathe, Kin-Slayer,” and something breaks free inside me and I can finally inhale.
A white-hot explosion is building behind my eyes, surging in my body—my legs are curled up tight on either side of his hips and I’m choking out screams. He releases one of my wrists, wraps that arm around my head, and press his jaw against the top of my head while his hips buck, pushing his cock into me faster, faster—
Shit—
A bolt of keenest ecstasy sears through my body, splitting me in two. Shrieks erupt from my throat—I can’t help it—never felt anything like this—never, never—oh gods—waves of bliss keep bathing me, over and over. I’ve never had an orgasm that lasted this long.
The Witch is still fucking me, slick and full and deep—and then he comes, harsh male cries of pleasure breaking from him while his body goes rigid with bliss. I can feel the spasms of his cock inside me as he spills everything.
He shoves in one more time, hard and tight—another groan—and then he relaxes, panting. Pulls out and moves back—then tumbles aside onto the ground and lies there, blinking and gasping and muttering, “Fuck.”
With shaking fingers I push my skirts back into place, and as I do so, he pulls himself to his feet with a jerky movement that’s almost angry.
“A bargain was made,” he says acidly. “You guessed my fear, so all of you will be free to go. But I’m not done with you yet, Kin-Slayer. Next time you’ll take me in your mouth, and swallow my cum.” He leans down, catches my chin in a rough grip. “The day you killed my sister was Day One. Yesterday was the second day, and tomorrow is the third. When the sun sets on the seventh day, I will end you, do you understand? Sex is not softness to the Fae. Fucking you does not mean I’ll spare you—far from it. I will kill you in the most horrific manner I can devise.”
Eyes narrowed, I let some of my magic leak into the ground, causing a rumble beneath his feet. “Not if I kill you first.”
A flash of interest and humor in his eyes—gone so quickly I might have imagined it. “Keep dreaming. And keep that pussy wet for me.” He shoves his slim booted foot beneath my dress, pressing the hard leather against my soaked center. I gasp a little, and he grins, shifting his foot a bit, grinding the toe of the boot over my clit. “I think you’d come on my foot if I let you.”
I want to beg him for it. But I have a nagging twitch in my mind—not guilt, exactly—I don’t usually feel guilt—but an awareness that I should probably care more about the welfare of my traveling companions than about my own sexual cravings. So I scoot backward, away from the contact. He merely shrugs, waggling his dark eyebrows at me before he vanishes in a puff of green smoke.
15
My consciousness crawls out of sleep, becoming gradually aware that I’m moving. I’m swaying with the movement of someone’s steps, carried in a pair of silken arms. The face over me is strange—a panther with mane like a lion, but there’s intelligence in his purple eyes. His feral beauty is a blow to my gut because it’s Caer, and I’d know him in any shape.
His chest and torso are distinguishable as human, like last night. Beneath his short black fur, I can feel the contours of the muscle beneath. He’s walking on two legs, gracefully and steadily enough, but by the twitch of his ears and the thunder of his heart I know he’s not at peace.
He glances down at me. Manages two words. “Nearly there.”
Is he taking me back to Riordan?
He lifts his head, sniffs the air. A tremble runs through his limbs, and he seems to instantly grow bulkier, his shoulders gaining a hulking mass they didn’t have before. A strangled sound issues from his throat—a pained growl.
“You’re all right,” I tell him, pressing my hand over his heart. “Calm down. It’s only Riordan.”
He huffs, shakes his mane. His body is changing more, taking on greater size and threat. He drops me naked into the underbrush and crashes to all fours while his limbs and claws lengthen.
He’s terrified of facing Riordan. And if I can’t calm him, I might lose him.
“Caer, stay with me.” Cautiously I move nearer, placing my hand on his great shoulder. My pale fingers look so fragile and small, splayed against that hulk of black furred muscle.
