Seducing the Sun Fae

by Rebecca Rivard

  “Please,” she begged. “Don’t tease, Dion.”

  He put a knee between her legs, spreading her further, then drew a finger between her thighs. She was wet and impossibly hot, and his balls tightened.

  “But I promised I would,” he said against her ear. “And I always keep my promises. Besides, it makes things so much more…satisfying.”

  She quivered beneath his hand. “But I—”

  He slapped her bottom. “Patience, querida. Trust me.”

  She drew a sharp breath. “I do.”

  “That’s better,” he praised and went back to his leisurely exploration of her sex, brushing his fingertips across the wet, swollen lips, swirling over her sweet little pearl.

  She made a sound low in her throat. “Please—”

  He smiled, taking a visceral satisfaction in how thoroughly she was his. “Soon, love. Soon.”

  She drew a sobbing breath and he pressed a kiss to her shoulder, then rubbed his cheek over the soft skin, marking her with his scent. The animal wanted everyone to know she was his.

  “Minha,” he said against her neck. “You’re mine. Me entendes?”

  She dropped onto her forearms, her head on her hands, her bottom turned up in an erotic invitation. “Yes…yes.”

  His chest clenched. She was his mate, damn it. He’d felt the tug in his heart that signaled a bond was possible. He’d finally found her after decades of searching—and he couldn’t claim her as his. It made him all the more determined to love her hard and long, to bind her to him so that she never forgot him. She might have a hundred lovers in the years to come—and Deus if the thought of that didn’t make him half-crazed—but it would be his face she’d see as they took her, his name she’d call out as she came.

  He played with her for long minutes, enjoying the high, needy sounds she made, the salty-sweet scent of her sex, the way she instinctively widened her thighs to coax him to enter her.

  “Not yet,” he murmured and came down over top of her, bracing himself with his hands on either side of her body so he could rub his chest and abdomen over her back and buttocks, his stiff cock sliding through her slick folds without entering.

  The pleasure was excruciating. His balls tightened and he gritted his teeth, wanting to draw it out as long as possible. But she was so primed that at the merest touch she shuddered and called out his name, coming in a small orgasm that he knew would be a tease in itself.

  Sure enough, she turned her head to look at him through dazed eyes, her shining hair half-covering her face. “Dion, please,” she rasped. “I need you.”

  He smoothed her hair back so he could see her expression: open, wanting, vulnerable—his. A wave of tenderness washed over him. Abruptly he was tired of teasing. He just wanted her.

  “Then you’ll have me, querida.” He pressed a kiss to the sweet-smelling skin between her shoulder blades and positioned himself to take her.

  Suddenly, the air around him shifted, shimmered…and then they were surrounded by four sun fae, including Lady Olivia, a dart in her hand. Behind them was Adric, a smirk on his lips.

  Dion rocked back on his haunches and roared with anger. “Não.”

  They were already pulling Cleia to her feet. Her eyes met his, wide and distressed. “Dion, I—”

  He just had time to spit out the word, “Bitch,” before Olivia plunged the dart into his shoulder and everything went black.

  * * *

  Cleia sucked in a breath as Dion slumped to the ground.

  “Don’t hurt him,” she cried, throwing herself between him and her men. She crouched down next to him and ran her hands over his body. His breath was slow and uneven. She shot an accusing look at Olivia. “What did you do?”

  “Nothing that will cause permanent damage. He’s going to sleep for a while, but he’ll be fine.” Olivia arched a single copper brow. “An ill-timed rescue, I see. My apologies, cousin. I believed you were a prisoner here.”

  “I was, but—he was going to let me go.” She touched Dion’s cheek. He was unharmed. That was the important thing.

  She looked up at the group surrounding them: Olivia, Artan and Grady, two sun fae warriors and a fifth man whom she didn’t know. Their frowns—save for the fifth man, who was watching the proceedings with a sardonic smile—reminded her she was a queen. And one whose people desperately needed her to return.

  She glanced back down at Dion, curled up on his side, naked and defenseless. Hot tears stung her eyes. Stars, what a mess. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head and came to her feet.

  Artan held out the pink dress. She put it on, her gaze going back to Dion as soon as she was done.

  “Ready?” Olivia asked impatiently. “I cast a misdirection spell to make them think we’re attacking from the other side of the base, but we only have a few minutes before they figure out it’s a hoax.”

  Cleia nodded without looking at her. “He’ll never forgive me for this,” she said, more to herself than anyone else. Her stomach cramped with regret. She pressed a hand to it and took a steadying breath. Dion was going to hate her for this—and he was going to be downright murderous when he awoke and discovered what she was about to do next.

  But something he’d said had given her an idea. It just might work. And if it did, she could undo some of the damage she’d unwittingly caused his clan. She turned to Olivia. “We have to take him with us.”

  “What? Why?”

  Cleia ignored her to snatch up one of the nets she’d mended. Chanting softly, she threw it over Dion, using her magic to bind it tightly around him. Even as her heart wept at the brutal interruption of their interlude, it felt good to use her magic again, to feel the tingle as the spell flowed from her heart-center to her fingertips to manifest itself in the physical world, although her strength was much reduced after two weeks underground.

  “What are you doing?” Olivia was staring at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Do you want war with the fada? Right now we’ve got right on our side, but if you steal their alpha, they’ll be out for blood. They’re animals, Cleia. They’d as soon as tear out your throat as negotiate.”

  The fifth man, the one Cleia didn’t know, shifted. His odd bronze eyes flashed, then were as swiftly shuttered.

  Olivia’s full lips pressed together. “I beg your pardon, Lord Adric.”

  “Dion’s not—” Cleia started to say but was interrupted by a hard banging on the door.

  “Lord Dion?” a man shouted. “Are you all right? Open the door.”

  “There’s no time,” Cleia said. “Everyone, touch a part of the net. Now.”

  Olivia and the four sun fae warriors hurried to obey, although it was clearly against their better judgment, but the earth alpha hung back.

  “You too, Lord Adric,” Cleia rapped out. She’d already guessed he was an earth fada—not only did he have that lithe, catlike physique, those odd eyes were a dead giveaway—and as soon as Olivia had said his name, she’d realized he was the Baltimore clan’s new alpha. Everybody knew that his clan and Dion’s were long-time enemies. She was damned if she’d leave him behind in Rock Run to cause mischief.

  Adric’s nostrils flared angrily but he stepped forward to grasp a section of the net.

  Of the six sun fae, only Cleia and her cousin had the power to teleport. “My apartment,” she told Olivia. “The center.” Weakened as she was, Cleia could never do it alone.

  Olivia jerked her head in assent and added her energy to Cleia’s.

  The door to the hall burst open and several large, angry Rock Run warriors rushed across the sala, Tiago at the rear. She and Olivia hurriedly extended their power to the rest of their group, Cleia focusing all her remaining resources on herself and Dion, relying on Olivia to bring herself and the others through.

  Power surged and the air around them opened like a curtain through which they stepped as their molecules shifted to pure energy.

  The last thing Cleia saw was Tiago looking at her with furious, disillusioned eyes that mirr
ored his brother’s.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Dion groaned. His tongue felt swollen to twice its normal size. His throat worked as he tried to swallow, but his mouth was so dry there was no saliva to spare.

  He was stiff and aching, with a cramp in his left calf. He moved restively from side to side, trying to reach his leg so that he could massage it, but his arms seemed stuck to his sides. And he was hot, so hot, the skin on his face burning.

  In fact, his entire body felt as if it had been hung out to bake in the desert sun.

  He forced his sleep-encrusted eyes open and turned his head to avoid the bright light. He couldn’t see clearly, but he had the dazed impression of pale yellow walls, immense windows, billowing white curtains. It seemed familiar, but why?

  His face was wrapped in something. He tried to lift a hand to it and couldn’t. He glanced down at the black mesh entrapping him and everything came back to him in a rush: having sex with Cleia…giving in to her pleas to remove the bespelled scarf around her eyes…and then Olivia and the other sun fae appearing out of nowhere and plunging a drugged dart into his shoulder.

  A snarl rose in his throat, low and savage. Cleia. The puta had trussed him up in one of his own fishing nets and brought him home. He was laid out on a couch in her apartment with the noon sun hammering on his face.

  His vision hazed over. He’d trusted her, damn it—and she’d ground that trust beneath her pretty little heel.

  The animal in him rose, instinctively trying to fight free of the net. He thrashed about, scratching and biting at the knotted webbing until he fell back to the cushions exhausted, his chest working like a bellows. With a tremendous effort, he reined in his animal and forced himself to think rationally. It was his only hope.

  Okay, he thought when he had himself under control. The animal’s right. He did need to escape the net—but panicking only made things worse.

  He took a deep breath and braced his arms and legs against the netting, straining with everything he had to break it—even just a small opening that he could rip wider. But it held fast. He kept pushing, refusing to give up until his muscles gave and again he dropped back onto the couch, heart pounding and the room swooping crazily around him.

  He steeled himself for a third round. This time he tried to shift to otter so that he could claw his way out of the net, but whatever magic Cleia had woven into the strands slammed him back into his human form before he was even halfway changed.

  He swore viciously. His fingers clenched and unclenched. If he ever got free of the net, the sun fae witch had better be far, far away.

  The door opened and light footsteps entered the apartment. He pushed himself partially upright, his back against one of the couch’s arms. The room did another dizzy gyration. He swallowed a wave of nausea and watched narrow-eyed as his captor approached. She’d changed into a simple white shift and dressed her hair in a single braid that hung over one shoulder. Her lovely sun-touched eyes were large and wary. She appeared as innocent as a child.

  His lip curled. If Queen Cleia was innocent, then he was a just-hatched minnow.

  She drew in a breath, causing her firm breasts to press against her shift, and he cursed the way his belly clenched, how he wanted her even now, knowing what she was—a lying, betraying bitch. Anguish gripped his chest until his heart felt like a cold, heavy lump instead of a living organ.

  He was a fool for this woman—and his people were going to suffer for it. Thanks to his weakness, his stupidity in trusting her, she’d been able to capture him, leaving his people leaderless at a time when both the sun fae and the Baltimore earth fada knew where the base was and that the river clan was vulnerable. Even now the earth shifters could be attacking—and he was trussed up like a pig on a spit, helpless to prevent them.

  “You’re awake,” Cleia said, then clucked her tongue. “The sun—I’m sorry, I didn’t think.”

  She crossed to the windows on the sunny side of the room and pulled the curtains across them. He heaved a sigh of relief as the searing light was muted.

  She walked back to him, stopping a few feet from the couch. “How are you feeling?”

  He stared at her without replying. Surely she wasn’t going to behave as if he were a frigging guest? But apparently she was.

  “You must be thirsty,” she said. “You’ve been out since yesterday evening.” She went to a small kitchen, returning with a glass of water.

  He glared at her through slit lids. “Just…enjoying your hospitality, Queen Cleia,” he said, speaking with difficulty around his swollen tongue. “It’s most…restful.”

  She regarded him somberly, and then waved her hand, removing the net from his face. “Drink,” she urged, holding the glass to his lips.

  He growled lowly and considered refusing, but he craved that drink with every cell in his body. Water fada were easily dehydrated. His skin was so dry and tight it was painful, his mind sluggish from lack of fluids. Just the act of sitting partway up had left him shaky, so he swallowed his pride and took a tentative sip. The water was ice-cold with a hint of lime. It slid down his parched throat, cool and blessedly moist.

  “More,” he croaked. She brought the glass back to his lips. This time she murmured something and he felt the unmistakable whisper of magic slide over his skin. He reared back. “What the fu—?”

  “I infused the water with a strengthening spell. You’re weak and dehydrated from being out so long.”

  He pressed his lips together. “I don’t need your goddamn magic.”

  She sighed. “Please drink it. I swear there’s nothing in it to harm you.”

  He hesitated, but he couldn’t scent the metallic taint of dark magic. And however low his opinion of the sun fae queen, he’d bet his life she didn’t dabble in the dark arts. He gave in and emptied the glass.

  “That’s better, isn’t it?” She gave him an encouraging smile as if he were a child. “Would you like more?”

  He nodded, already feeling a little better. As she helped him drink a second glass, strength flooded into him. When she turned to set the glass on a nearby table, he sat up straighter, surreptitiously flexing his muscles. If he could just break out of this blasted net… But the binding spell was too powerful.

  “You must be hungry, too.” She gave him an assessing look. “I’ll order some food. My chef doesn’t have your cooks’ way with fish, but he’s quite good.”

  He dropped his head back on the couch and regarded her through lowered lids. “Cut the crap, Cleia. You drugged me and dragged me back here trussed in a net. Your cousin gave the location of our clan base to a sneaky, murderous S.O.B. who’d like nothing better than to move in on Rock Run’s territory. And to top it all off, you lied. No tricks,” he mimicked. “I promise. I just want to see you, Dion.” He shook his head. “I’m the world’s biggest ass. So stop acting like I’m a goddamn dinner guest and tell me what the hell you want.”

  “Fine.” She dragged a hand over her braid. “I’ll admit you’ve got a right to be angry. I did bring you here against your will. But I did not lie to you. I couldn’t—I made a sacred oath that would’ve left me ill for days if I’d broken it. Olivia and Lord Adric found the base on their own—he was tracking you after each meeting. And then one of your own people told them where you were keeping me.”

  “No.” He swung his bound legs to the floor and struggled to sit the rest of the way upright, wriggling on the couch until he faced her. “I don’t believe you.”

  “I’m sorry, Dion, but it’s true. You know what it costs a fae to lie.”

  He eyed her. She should be trying harder to convince him. The fact that she wasn’t made his fingers clench on the net. “Who?” he demanded in hoarse tones. “Tell me his name.”

  “I didn’t say it was a man. But what does it matter? You were going to release me yourself.”

  “It matters.”

  She shook her head. “Let it go, Dion. What’s done is done.”

  “I can’t,” he said flatly.
“I’m alpha. My word has to be law. I can’t allow a traitor to live. I’d be seen as weak for allowing it, and every warrior unhappy with his place in the hierarchy would start challenging for dominance.”

  To the fada, a weak leader needed to be culled. The clan would split into factions, each supporting a different man, and pretty soon they’d be at one another’s throats. It had happened with the Baltimore earth shifters.

  “Then I’ll have to make sure you never find out who it was.”

  “You’re welcome to try.”

  They stared at each other challengingly. She looked away first. “Look, I didn’t bring you here to argue with you.”

  “Then why? You say you didn’t lie to me, but it was you who bound me in this net, you who brought me back here, sim?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “If you’re not trying to harm Rock Run, then why take me—the alpha—when we’re at our most vulnerable? Adric could be attacking even now. What’s the matter, querida, couldn’t the queen live without her pet shifter?”

  She winced. “I can explain—”

  “Por favor.” He settled back on the couch and lifted a mocking brow. “I’ve always enjoyed a good story.”

  She blew out a breath but said, “First, let me order your food.”

  She crossed the room and opened the door. After speaking with a servant there, she returned and sat down on a chair across from him. A weary look crossed her face and she gave a small, almost imperceptible sigh.

  He frowned. If anything, she looked more tired and wan than she had yesterday, and even a little thinner. If keeping her underground had been the problem, shouldn’t she be starting to get better now that she was home and getting plenty of sunshine and fresh air?

  He opened his mouth to ask if she was sick, and then closed it again. Why should he care about the puta’s health? But it bothered him all the same. Hades take the woman anyway. It was going to be hard to remove the claws she’d sunk into his heart.

  She cocked her head to one side, considering him in turn.

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “Talk.”