She peered around, studying the vines along the walls. A door at the end of the hall was open…the very same that contained the vortex Eric brought them through. She didn’t know how to access portals; it was something she had never been taught. Could she go to it and think of home to cross?
“Don’t even think about it, Runa. Unless you wish to renege on our agreement? I’m sure Seevier wouldn’t mind if I took you back.”
“Why won’t… Can’t I just go home?”
Eric stared at her with an odd expression, as if unsure how to answer. His jaw clenched, and he wrapped a hand under her arm. Taking a right, he led her down another corridor.
She hesitated before repeating, “Why?”
He kept his eyes forward and answered gruffly, “You could warn your sister of what we intend. Is that not the way of your kind?”
Runa shrieked in frustration and pulled free. After being thrown into the fire by Octavia, there was no way in Hades she would do anything to save her wretched ass. “When I say Octavia can rot, I mean it. She’s an evil she-bitch that deserves to burn. I wouldn’t piss on her if she caught fire.”
His full eyebrows lifted in surprise, and a playful grin formed. “Is that a fact?"
“Absolutely. She can simmer.”
Eric’s expression changed as raw desire radiated from the depths of his bright green eyes. “You’re not very forgiving,” he murmured, stepping forward and brushing against her. “Are you?”
She took a shaky step back, unsure if she was excited or frightened by the prospect of him stalking her, thinking perhaps it was a bit of both. “No, and if you don’t let me go home, I’ll know where you sleep. Just think of all the possibilities.”
He continued forward, and she mirrored each step back until the wall stopped her short. He placed his hands on either side her head and bent at the waist. His face descended as he lowered his wide shoulders. Her stomach folded in on itself, and her heart started racing. He was what every male aspired to be but would never compare to. His large body was perfectly proportioned, broad shoulders and corded arms filling out a rugged physique that towered over her.
And then, there was his unbelievably gorgeous face…
Eric’s heated breath caressed the corner of her mouth, and she realized the fae had it completely wrong. The sidhe dark king was not the personification of sex, lust, and temptation. That title belonged to someone else entirely.
And he was standing just inches from her.
“With you in my bed, I can think of all sorts of wonderfully wicked possibilities.” He met her gaze, and her lips parted in awe. Up close, his colored irises flashed brilliantly, shifting from creamy jade to jeweled emerald. The pupil widened, nearly eclipsing the colored portion. “And I promise you, aiarya. I won’t be sleeping.”
His mouth captured hers as his body surged forward and pinned her in place. Her knees caved as the breath left her lungs in a devastating rush that swept through her nerve endings. She grasped his arms to stay upright.
Sweet god in heaven.
He was amazing -- chiseled and cut, warm and strong. She squeezed the muscles under her fingers and imagined what they would feel like with his shirt gone. His mouth slackened as his warm tongue slid past her lips, delving inside and stroking in a circular motion, gently teasing and enticing her to kiss him back.
Giving in to temptation was reckless, but even still, she relaxed her mouth and met each caress with a hesitant lapping. Raking her fingernails into his arms, she pressed her aching breasts into his chest and breathed in his incredibly masculine smell. He cupped her bottom and brought her flush against him. His rigid cock pressed into her stomach, the hard steel digging insistently into the yielding softness of her body. She inhaled raggedly, shocked and awed by his size.
He muffled her soft gasp with his lips and rotated his pelvis. Grasping her tightly, his fingers curved into the fleshy portion of her hip and ass. He rubbed his erection roughly against the cloth concealing her sex, urging her into a slow rhythm that kindled the rising heat.
She moaned in ecstasy and was grinding against him when an unexpected realization hit. Her desire came without the need for blood, an impulse to bite at his skin, or a need to tear at his flesh with her nails. She possessed no compulsion to bestow pain, to fight for dominance. Tears of relief and excitement burned her eyes.
This was how it was to kiss without restraint, to experience pleasure without pain, excitement without fear. To let go and release the combustible fae sensuality she had kept so carefully contained for fear it would reveal the darkness of her kind and cement the fact that she was no better than those who repulsed her.
Eric trapped the tip of her tongue in his mouth and suckled gently. It was an impossibly erotic display that heated her entire body, increasing the liquid warmth and wetness between her legs. His tongue flicked against hers, moving back and forth, in perfect harmony with his devilishly rolling hips.
She cried out when his mouth retreated. She buried her fingers into his shoulders, pressing against him, desperate to sate the unfamiliar ache that raged inside her body.
Eric basked in the absolute perfection of the woman in his arms. Runa was the epitome of what the Fates intended man to lose himself in. Enticing and responsive, she was by far the most sensual and exotic female he had ever touched. She tasted as good as she smelled, with skin softer than the finest diamond dust.
He thrust against her, and she moved as he instructed, rotating her hips and bucking her rounded little ass in his hand while grinding her belly against his fully engorged cock. If they continued at this rate, he would lift her skirt, rip off her panties, and fuck her until he found the release his body was raging for.
“I want to take you right here, right now,” he murmured, brushing his lips against her ear to whisper, “And you’d let me too, wouldn’t you?”
Her chin fell back, and she whimpered. Cording her fingers in his hair, she pulled his head closer. The sound of her tiny cries inflamed him, so unexpectedly hushed and light, eager and expressive.
“Aye,” he crooned, sliding his tongue along the shell of her ear and exhaling, “You would.”
Her heavy sigh almost sent him over the edge, and he was forced to take control. He would be no better than the fae in the nearby room if he fucked her against the wall in front of anyone that might happen by. Uncovering her tiny body and discovering the pleasures that awaited him was something he wanted to experience alone. He also had other obligations to fulfill. He had to speak to Idona about tonight’s happenings and meet his brothers.
Christ, his brothers.
They would ride him hard when he arrived at Matilda’s with a sidhe in tow. Not that he blamed them. Every dealing with the bloodletting fae kind always resulted in trouble -- or death -- of some sort.
Pressing a soft kiss to Runa’s temple, he eased off her body, keeping his hands in place until she regained her balance on wobbly feet. He frowned when she averted her eyes as if embarrassed. He studied her bowed head, which was covered by thick strands of multicolored hair and experienced a pang of guilt.
Was she truly as she presented herself, more innocent than not?
“Are you truly only twenty tides young?”
She was unable to disguise her impassioned tenor when she answered, “Actually, I’m twenty-three tides old.”
“Damn,” he murmured.
“You’re just an aoretaa.”
She peered up at him. “A what?”
She lowered her head again and shrugged her delicate shoulders. “I’m not a child, believe me. Age is relative.”
Suddenly reflective, he cupped her chin and forced her to look at him. “I’ll ask you the same question in a century or two. Then we’ll see what you have to say.”