Page 59 of Bound to the Fae Assassin

“You will be mine forever?” he asked her.

“I promise you,” she whispered, meeting his eyes.

“Do not offer promises to a Fae,” he half-teased.

“Too late,” she whispered. “I am yours.”

Mine.

Wild lust took over him. He bunched her gown in his fists, pulling it over her head before he could stop himself.

Moonlight bathed her naked form. She stood before him bravely, shoulders back, not trying to hide herself, though she trembled.

“Do you fear me?” he asked her gently.

She shook her head, but still she shivered.

He went to her, taking her hand, and led her to the settee in the corner, too desperate to search for a bed.

She lay back willingly, her bright hair cascading off the pillows, her eyes sparkling in the starlight. She looked at him with such trust it hurt his chest.

I will be worthy.

He turned away and slowly removed his breeches and undergarments, giving her time to look at him, to change her mind if she wanted. When he turned back, her eyes were wide, her lips slightly parted as she took in his beautiful body.

Farrow was a good girl. He was certain that she had never seen a man in this state before. After a moment, he raised his eyebrows, wordlessly asking her permission to come closer.

Farrow held out her arms.

Blackthorn had been with women of all kinds. He had enjoyed dalliances with older women from the Fae court. He had seduced village girls, though he had never tormented them like the Fae in the tales. He had been pleasured and pampered by women of every shape, size, and race with an indolent confidence he knew they found irresistible.

Yet his heart had never pounded as it did now. He had never felt such a frightening pressure to get it right.

His physical allure and seductive parlor tricks would not be enough for Farrow. She did not love him for his pretty face.

Farrow had been won by his actions. She craved his best self. And he did not know how to give that to her in this context. No one had ever expected that of him before.

This might be her first experience being claimed, but everything would be new for him, too.

He felt both exhilarated and solemn as he crawled into her open arms.

She sighed and he drank in her sweet breath.

The feel of her warm, bare skin beneath his was intoxicating. He felt almost delirious, like a child after drinking mug after mug of apple cider at the festival of the harvest.

He bent to brush her lips with his.

Farrow twined her arms around his neck and kissed him back, shyly at first and then with real passion.

Need shot through him.

He pulled back from her mouth to nuzzle the shell of her ear, and the place where her neck met her shoulder.

Farrow let out a light whimper and he felt a corresponding jolt of desire.

He wanted to kiss and touch every inch of her, taking his time and stretching the magic out over centuries.

And at the same time, he was desperate to claim her immediately and break through the last wall keeping her from being fully his.

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