Page 67 of A City of Emeralds and Envy
I won’t break our bargain. No other touches, no talking… but I can look at him.
I’m nearly there, nearly over the edge, but I take a deep breath and I fix my eyes on his. At first he’s looking away, teeth gritted—but it’s as if he can sense my stare—his gaze swerves to mine, as he keeps fucking me fiercely, determined to win.
Words fill my mind as I look at him, words I couldn’t say, not even if it was permitted in this moment.
I never thought I would want another man, not after Archer. I haven’t felt truly alive for a long time, and it wasn’t just Faerie that brought me to life—it was you. When you’re here, everything is sharper, clearer, more vivid, more exciting.
West’s eyes are violent and tender and pained, his thrusts slower, deeper, his lips parted as if words hover on the tip of his tongue.
I keep pouring unspoken things from my mind, through my eyes, into his.
You’re lonely, vindictive, cruel, delicious, intelligent. You’re the most fascinating person I’ve ever met, and the one who is most like me. I don’t want you dead, and I wish you could let me live. We could do this forever, the two of us—we’d never have to fear being alone again. We’d be so wicked and wild—we could do anything we pleased, and no one could tell us not to. I wish… I wish… I wish… I could love you until I die. I want you to be mine.
“Ahh…” A groan cracks from his lips, and his shoulders tighten, his head bowing in defeat as he comes inside me. “Gods-fuck…”
The slow pulse of his orgasm in my sensitive channel is too much—my hips surge, meeting his final thrust, and I come on him, a hard burst of bliss shattering my senses, surging through my body in rich waves. He’s still coming—he rocks deeper and groans again, more warmth rushing from his cock, bathing my insides. Another wave of pleasure catches me, too—a second crest, and I gasp, whimpers slipping from my throat. My legs lock tighter around him, pinning him inside me so I can enjoy every second of the blessed fullness.
After a few seconds he moves to pull out of me, but another rush of ecstasy floods through my body and I arch into it, wordless, soundless, stunned.
“Fuck,” he rasps, his body hardening with another orgasm. “Oh fuck.”
“It wasn’t like this the other time,” I manage, breathless. “What’s happening?”
He looks shocked, wide-eyed, almost boyish in his surprise. But there’s realization in his eyes, too, and a flicker of guilt. He turns his head away.
“What is it?” I reach up and grab his jaw, forcing him to look at me. “What did you do?”
“It was a primal instinct, an impulse,” he says, low. “It requires commitment on both sides, so I never thought it would work.”
“What does that mean?”
He withdraws from me, and this time there’s no extra burst of pleasure, just the slick, pleasant glide of his flesh leaving mine.
“Three so close in a row like that—it’s unusual, isn’t it? Even for Fae?” I persist.
“Yes, we typically need at least a few minutes to recover.” He summons his clothes back onto his body and his staff into his hand, then leaps over the balcony railing, landing catlike on the library floor far below. He disappears among the bookshelves.
“Wait a fucking second!” By the time I struggle into my underthings, my pants, and my bustier, he’s already returning, with his coat on and two books in his hand. I clatter down the steps to meet him, feeling clumsy, disheveled, and a little rejected.
“These are what you need.” He slams a slim leather-covered volume into my hand. “This journal will tell you more about the Wizard you’re working for—how he arrived here, and what he has done.”
“We aren’t workingforhim,” I protest, but he slams the second book on top of the first.
“This is a history of my family’s powers and inherited artifacts. Read it, learn to use the shoes, and then come fucking kill me if you can. I’ll be waiting.”
There’s no trace of humor on his face, no teasing glint in his eyes. With a crack and a cloud of green smoke, he disappears, leaving me alone in the great library of Caislean Brea.
23
Caer is much more fun to travel with when he’s in his natural form. He’s in high spirits, running ahead and bounding back to us, climbing trees, and springing from branch to branch. Once he dashes up behind Riordan and leaps onto his back like a child begging for a ride. That earns him a lethal glare from the White Rabbit, who is still gloomy about the time we wasted in the Emerald City, fucking like… well… like rabbits.
Jasper watches Caer frolic with an expression of bewildered delight. “Where does he get all that energy?” he asks me in an undertone.
“I have no idea. He’s like a kitten on catnip.”
Caer is a few dozen paces ahead, but I notice his ears twitch. Then he disappears into the bushes beside the road.
“He heard us,” I whisper to Jasper.
