Page 25 of Not With the Eyes

"You have weird kinks," Oberon said with a laugh that turned into a moan as Stéphane dragged his tongue along her inner thigh, then chased the wet trail with small, stinging kisses, working his way steadily to where she desperately needed his mouth to be suddenly. "Stéphane!"

"Yes, just like that," Stéphane murmured, before he put his tongue to work on Oberon's clit, teasing and stroking until he got his lips around it to suck and work harder. When Oberon was writhing and swearing, he shifted slightly to go deeper, fucking her with his tongue until she screamed her climax, nails biting into his scalp.

Pulling back, Stéphane wiped his mouth and looked down smugly at his work. "I'm not going to lie, it's a lot of fun having a lover who can come in any shape, size, and combination."

Oberon laughed breathlessly. "Don't worry, it's a lot of fun on this end too. Now lay back down, because I really did want to ride you. Thank you properly for coming to rescue me and all that."

"I doubt my services were all that required, monarch of the faeries."

"As long as I had that fucking collar on, I wasn't going to have much luck." She pushed until Stéphane withdrew and once more stretched out on the bed. Oberon kissed him again, then straddle him once more and took hold of his cock. Her gaze never leaving his, she lowered herself down on his cock, until the delightful sensation of being stuffed full sent her head tipping back, moans filling the room. Stéphane's hands rested heavy on her hips, steadying without controlling, eyes roaming her body, burning in their intensity.

Eventually Stéphane groaned her name, hands almost painfully tight on her hips, and after a few more thrusts, came deep inside her. Oberon's second climax spilled through her, drowning out every noise and thought.

When she finally stretched out beside Stéphane, it was impossible to keep her eyes open. Far too wrung out and exhausted from the day to move, she for once stayed right where she was, pressed along the length of Stéphane's body, enjoying the scent of him, the warmth of his body, even the arm that came up tentatively to hold her.

"I don't know why you want me after all," Stéphane said quietly, "but I hope you realize you're going to have a hard time getting rid of me now."

Oberon smiled but didn't bother to open her eyes. "Don't worry, I need you for my new revenge masterplan."

"Dare I ask?"

Lazily trailing kisses along Stéphane's sweaty chest, Oberon finally dragged her eyes open to meet his curious, mismatched gaze. "Why, to make out with you on live television where your mother will have no choice but to see it, and even the G.O.D. will never be able to wipe the event from the earth. I want her to die knowing that not only is her legacy a backstabbing traitor, but that I'm the one who seduced you away with my shameless harlotry."

"I feel so loved," Stéphane said with a laugh. "I hope someone captures the look on her stupid face."

Oberon kissed him. "Jokes of vengeance aside, that is not the only reason I want you."

"I know," Stéphane said quietly, reaching up to brush her hair from her eyes, trailing his fingers down her cheek. "That's not really your style. I told you, Iknowyou. I was never a stalker, but I did keep apprised of you as I was able. I never really thought…" He swallowed, eyes closing. "I never thought I'd beherewith you."

"Really? Because winding up with the son of my greatest enemy really seems the only suitable outcome for a fairy king. The only thing that would be more appropriate would be to bear her grandchild, but I'm not even looking in that direction until—unless—we can live normal lives. Which is unlikely."

"I'm not really sure I should let my line continue, anyway," Stéphane replied, but Oberon didn't think she was missing the barest hint of longing in his voice.

Tucking that observation away to examine far, far into the future, she drew him in for one last kiss and then settled down. She wasn't thrilled Lachapelle had lived to cause pain and suffering another day, and being stuck in a bunker for at least a month was not a thrilling conclusion to this adventure, but she fell asleep smiling anyway.

When she woke some time later, she was alone, but there was a distant murmur of conversation and the smell of food. Sitting up, she pushed back the blankets and swept the room—and smiled to see a pile of clean clothes waiting for her. The shelter must have spare clothes stored.

One quick shower later, she headed out to find the others, which proved to be an easy enough task. The main portion of the shelter was a large common area, with sofas, tables and chairs, and more. Off to one side was a ridiculously large kitchen, andalong another wall was a fancy coffee and tea station and several vending machines filled with every snack and drink imaginable.

The shelter had a liminal space kind of feel, with a design choice that was somewhere between space shuttle and forgotten bus station. Stéphane and the other two sat at one of the larger tables, eating family style from several fragrant dishes. Indian food, if he wasn't mistaken.

"Morning," Dixie drawled.

"Good morning," Oberon replied, twisting her hair up into a quick bun before sitting down next to Stéphane, squeezing his thigh in greeting before helping herself to the food. "Who made all this?"

Rodeo smiled in a slow, sweet way that probably got him out of a great deal of trouble. "Ain't good for much, but I can cook. Owned several restaurants before I got sick enough of the Dogs to do something about them. This place is well-stocked, can eat like this for six months at least. Hopefully ain't gonna come to that."

"Shouldn't," Dixie said. "Plan, such as it is, is to lay low here for at least a month. After about fifteen days, Byron will start trying to re-establish communications with us. Until then, total blackout, since we have to assume the Dogs are keeping careful watch of this place."

Oberon frowned. "Won't they think to check the shelter, if only because it's all that's survived? Aren't there further archives down here?" She looked around reflexively, but all she saw regarding the archives was another heavy-looking door that was bio-locked.

"We're buried," Dixie said. "It'll take them months to dig this place out, given how far underground it is. By the time they reach it, we'll be long gone. Remember that plan that went south, where we were going to dig out an escape route?"

"Hard to forget," Oberon replied. "We lost our HQ."

"Well, Byron is going to cannibalize elements of that plan to get to us down here. Once he can open communication channels, we'll start coordinating on it."

Stéphane drained his cup, which seemed to be filled with iced tea or something. "So we really have nothing to do but sit here and relax for at least fifteen days."

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