Page 119 of Atop the Faerie Throne
“Don’t you trust me, little queen?”
Not in the slightest, but the challenge there is undeniable and… I want to know. Curiously, I suck it between my lips, frowning when the previously solid candy bursts into liquid syrup on my tongue.
Just like with him, nothing happens for a long moment.
And then…
Wetness gushes from me. My mouth parts on a silent ‘o’ of surprise as my core explodes. For a second, I wonder if I’ve lost control of my bladder, but then the low buzz I get from being around my mates flares bright into fireworks of arousal. Goddess, I’m close to the edge of orgasm without any preparation or warning.
“Shit,” I cough out, collapsing against his side as my thighs squeeze together. I’m not sure if I’m trying to stop it, or to push myself over the edge. Neither works. “Who came up with that?!”
Of course, the fae have arousal candies. Shouldn’t there be a warning on those? Beltaine is a fertility festival, I suppose, but still.
“Ten gold it was a redcap,” Caed grunts, and I belatedly realise he was holding the bag over his crotch to hide the bulge there.
As soon as he notices me staring, he shoves the bag aside and raises a glamour over the spot instead, clearing his throat. “I don’t think we were supposed to eat those until later in the evening.”
I know what he means. We barely got here, and already I desperately want to leave or search out a dark corner. Actually, who needs a corner?
Goddess, Lore would be so proud of me for that thought.
Searching desperately for a distraction, I glance over at the bonfires and the fae whirling around them.
“I don’t have any mead,” I admit, remembering his earlier comment about Fomorians not dancing. “But… I do want to join that.”
They’re whirling to the beat of drums and harps, and it reminds me of the under fae revel Bree and Lore took me to after my coronation. I don’t even wait for his response before taking his hand and dragging him back down the stairs. Away from thewall and the sun slipping farther and farther beyond the horizon, and towards the dancing flames.
I don’t know the steps, but that doesn’t stop me as I pass him my bag of sweets, kick off my shoes, and join the crowds of spinning, barefooted fae. The skirts of my dress flare out around me as Caed takes a seat on a bench at the edge of the crowd, arms folded and eyes alert. Unlike last time, where I couldn’t take part when the winged fae took to the skies, this time I can.
My wings drip dust, thanks in part to the fuckbomb and because Caed’s stare just doesn’t leave my body once. His eyes scan my legs as I twirl, then skip to my breasts when I bend backwards and wink at him. Soon it becomes a game.
How long can I dance before he joins me?
How much can I tease him before he gives in?
I’m not the only one playing. The fae around me are being far more openly suggestive than I am. Skirts are being lifted. Buttons undone. Drumbeats pound faster, fiddles come out, and pipes trill merrily in the night. The heat from the flames kisses my bare skin, and the scent of incense scattered on the fire fills my nose.
Every so often, a fae dashes away from the fires into the darkness with shrieks of delight, only to return later with mud-streaked skin and twigs in their hair.
It’s primal, base, and yet… right.
I dance for over an hour, my skin slick with sweat and dust. Someone presses some mead into Caed’s hand, and he sips it as he watches me until it’s gone and the tankard is discarded alongside the paper bags on the floor at his feet. It feels like I’m dancing for him, and him alone, caught up in the excitement of the crowd and the rake of his eyes across my body.
Come here, I beg silently.Touch me, dance with me…
But he doesn’t break.
Finally, I undo the top button of my dress, followed swiftly by the second. He takes that first step forwards as my breasts try their best to escape the tight-fitting fabric.
Grinning triumphantly, I hold out my hands in invitation, but he grabs my waist instead, pulling me flush against him.
“I thought you were coming to dance,” I murmur against his bare chest.
“Dancing? Is that what you’re doing?” He presses a tiny kiss to the tip of my ear, and I shiver. “From over there, it looked like you were teasing the ever living fuck out of me.”
My pussy clenches, and I flutter my wings a little, raising me so I’m level with him and nip his own ear in return. “Can’t I do both?”
“You’re not playing fair, little queen.”
