He stood over her, enjoying the feel of her gaze on his skin as he slowly undid the ties of his pants. Cool air hit his cock as he slid them off his hips and down, watching her watch him. A drop of fluid gleamed at the tip of his erection. Prudence licked her lips.
For a moment he thought of asking her to use her mouth on him, but only for a moment. Fae women didn’t do that, not at all. Even asking would be an insult. He did not want to scare Prudence away, not when he was so close to having her.
So close he thought he might explode.
He couldn’t wait another second. He crawled onto the bed, pushing himself between her legs, resting his chest on top of hers so the heat of her pussy scorched the tip of his cock. His eyes closed. He drove his hands up under her shoulders, curling his fingers around to hold her steady and thrust into her.
He managed to keep himself from exploding, but could not stop the thrilled cry that escaped his lips. By the Mistress, this was like nothing he’d ever felt before. Her body was light and quick and alive around him, her knees bending, her hips tilting to accommodate him. The tight, slick walls of her cunt gripped him, welcoming him and fighting him at the same time. The dichotomy thrilled him. He tilted his hips and drove in farther, until his balls slapped against the soft mounds of her cheeks. Her arms squeezing his shoulders, her fingers digging into his skin, told him she felt it too.
Gritting his teeth, he pulled back out, slow inch by slow inch. Her eyes opened and met his. Royd fell into her then, into the sweetness and warmth he found inside her. Never had he thought a human woman could make him feel like this. Never had he thought a human woman would have such clarity of soul.
He pulled out completely, then slammed back in. Her hips rose to meet him, matching his passion. Her breasts moved against his chest and that was enough for Royd.
He wanted to hold back, wanted to go slowly, but he could not. Something electric in the air between them went straight to his head, driving away all conscious thought. Only sensation, only blind forceful need, existed and he started fucking her in earnest, their cries echoing each other’s against the unseeing walls of the room.
“Royd,” she cried. “Royd!” Exquisite pain flared across his shoulders as her fingernails broke his skin. It only sent him higher. Faster he thrust, faster and harder, until the bed shook. His control left him. His fingers, still curled around her shoulders, tightened until they ached. And all the while lights flashed in his brain and her wild cries of joy made a crashing, beautiful symphony in his head.
Sweat gleamed on her skin, giving her the dewy look of a just-opened rose and the sight of her glowing before him finished him. Every muscle in his body tightened and twitched, his cock jerked deep inside her, and he exploded.
She joined him a second later, convulsing around him, her cunt milking every last drop of his seed. It didn’t end, would never end. He groaned and pulsed until he felt he couldn’t any more, and yet his body kept going, wave after wave of pleasure rolling over him, until finally he collapsed weak and limp onto her warm, smooth skin.
Chapter Three
Pru snuggled deeper under the covers, keeping her eyes shut. She didn’t want to wake up. Her dream lover had been so perfect, exactly what she’d needed. The last thing she wanted to do was get up and look in the help wanted ads, start getting Gran’s things down from the attic so Kym’s horrible, pretentious boyfriend could come paw through them.
She tried to roll over, but the covers wouldn’t move. Frowning, she tugged at them. Nothing. Fine. She’d just shift to her right, then, and get better leverage to pull them up from the floor—
“Aaaah!”
She jumped back, hitting her head against the wall in her haste. “Ow!”
Royd gave her a slow smile. “You’re not very graceful.”
“I—shut up! You…you’re real.”
“I hope so.”
“But I…” Oh Goddess, I’m a whore. “I don’t even know you.”
He reached out to her, running one confident hand up her calf to her thigh. “Don’t you?”
And I’m naked. I’m a naked whore. Hastily she grabbed for the covers—stuck under his gorgeous body—and yanked, trying to cover herself. He snatched them out of her hands before she could.
“I didn’t get to see you with the sunlight shining on your skin,” he said. “It pleases me. But you shouldn’t get so red.”
“I can’t help it. You’re staring at me.”
“And you are staring at me.”
Her face grew even hotter and she turned away. “That’s different.” Different because his body gleamed in the light. Different because the man had not an ounce of extraneous fat anywhere on him. Just looking at him made her chest swell.
He raised his eyebrows. “Different? How?” Like a panther he crawled toward her, his muscles shifting smoothly under his golden skin. She swallowed. “Different because you do not like being looked at and I do?”
His lips almost touched hers as he placed his hands on either side of her, edging her legs apart with his knees so he could get closer. “Do you like looking at me, Prudence? Caressing me with your eyes? I can feel them, you know, feel your gaze on my skin.” He touched his chest. “Here…” His hand slid down, across his stomach. “And here…”
Prudence swallowed. How could anyone not like looking at this man?
He grinned. “I don’t think it’s any different at all. In truth, I—wait.”
Just as Pru was about to lean forward the inch needed for a kiss, he jerked back. “It is morning.”
“Yes. The sun is up, so—”
He shook his head, his brow furrowed and his lips twisted in a frown. Perhaps this was not the time for sarcasm.
“No. The sun is up. It’s morning. I do not understand…I must have fallen asleep.”
“You certainly worked hard enough to,” Pru said, forcing what she hoped was a carefree smile. Okay, she’d known a man who looked like that would never want to be with her for more than a night—she couldn’t figure out why he’d even wanted that night, to be honest—but did he have to make it so obvious?
“No. I only rose from sleep a short time before coming here. I should not have been so tired I fell asleep without even knowing it.”
He reached for her, his hand flat and open. Her eyes lowered in anticipation. She hadn’t brushed her teeth or taken a shower and her cheek felt stiff with what she suspected was dried ice cream, but it didn’t matter when he stared at her like that.
The touch on her face she expected didn’t come. Nor did he stroke her shoulder or caress her breast. Instead, his hand hovered an inch or so away from her cheek. From there he moved it over her head, where his other hand took over. For a moment she felt like some sort of living theremin, that bizarre musical instrument she’d seen played once at a free concert, as his hands played the air around her.
“You have not cast any spells on me,” he said. “So that is not what happened. I—”
“Hey, if you want to leave, go ahead and leave. I’m sorry you fell asleep here.” Pru twisted away from him. Bad enough he made it so obvious he regretted falling asleep in her bed, but for him to now imply it was only witchcraft that got him there to begin with? Maybe she wasn’t Elle MacPherson, but she wasn’t that damned bad.
She scooted in an undignified, but hopefully speedy, manner across the covers and reached for the robe hanging over the bedpost. Good thing she hadn’t bothered to put it back in the bathroom yesterday. Laziness had its benefits after all.
“Wait.” His fingers circled her arm, sending shivers through her. Even now, while part of her wanted to cry, the rest of her—especially the fun parts—wanted nothing more than to turn around and leap on top of him.
Had she actually thought this would be good, that she deserved a night of pure passion?
Guess the old saying was true. Be careful what you wish for. She’d gotten what she wished for, all right, and now she got the rejection and feeling of being used that came in the af
termath. Next time a tall, sexy stranger wanted to “pleasure her”, she’d say no.
Maybe. No, definitely no. Or yes. No!
“What?” Did he want to accuse her of slipping something into his drink? But then, he hadn’t had anything to drink, had he?
“Why are you running away from me, Prudence?”
“I’m not. I just—”
“Nonsense. Your aura is going dirty. Do not think that just because morning has come so quickly, you will be able to avoid giving me back what I came for. The wand is—”
“I don’t have your damn wand! What the hell is all this about, anyway?” She yanked her arm out of his grasp and stood up. The robe billowed around her as she flung it on. Next time, she would definitely say no.
“We made a deal, Prudence. Do not pretend now. You stole the wand from us. I do not know how, but you managed it. So give it back.”
“I didn’t steal anything! Who are you?”
“I am Royd.”
“What, just Royd? Royd what? Royd who?”
“I am Royd, son of Iram, Royd of the Radeuan Laam. I am a warrior of the Fae, and if you do not give me the wand, my people will die.”
* * * * *
What did one do with an unconscious human? Would the cativa he carried help to wake her or not? What about cold water? He hated to do that to her. It was not a pleasant way to wake up.
No, he would try the cativa first. Uncapping the tiny bottle he carried, like all Radeuan Laam, in a pouch tied to the waist of his trousers, he waved the pungent herbs beneath her delicate little nose.
Nothing happened for an eyeblink of time. Then Prudence’s eyes flew open, she yelped and flung herself backward, away from him. “Oh Goddess, what is that?”
He almost laughed at the way her nose and lips curled up. “Herbs to wake you.”
“Yuck, oh yech! Oh, that’s awful, what a stink.” She wiped her hands at her nose, as if she could remove the lingering scent from her nostrils. “It makes my eyes sting.”
He capped the bottle quickly and opened his hands. “I wanted to help you. It is dangerous to stay in the silent sleep for long.”
“The silent sleep?”
“What my people call what you were doing.”
Prudence shook her head. Her pale hair moved on her shoulders, the light through the window shining in its golden strands. How delicate she looked, and yet so healthy and full of life! He wanted to wrap himself up in that life, in the beating red pulse of her energy and never leave.
Wanted it quite badly, in fact. Badly enough that he hardened as he looked at her huddled by the wall with her knees drawn up and the dark blue silk of her robe swirling around her bare legs. If she moved one of them to the side just a little, he would be able to see the treasure between them. He fisted his hands to keep from reaching out to do it for her.
“Your people?”
He nodded. “The Fae. Do not look like that. You know what I am.”
“No. Not only do I not know ‘what you are’, I don’t know what you’re doing here, or who ordered you to—oh, wait. It was Kym, right? That’s why she acted like she couldn’t see you. Practical joke, right?”
Tears glistened in her eyes. The sight made something in his heart pinch a little. The sensation was so odd, he almost didn’t understand what she was saying.
“How much did they pay you? I am so stupid, I can’t believe I—look, whatever they paid you, I’ll—I’ll double it, okay, if you just tell them nothing happened. Please, please don’t make me look—”
“What? Prudence, I do not think you underst—”
“No, I don’t think you understand. It’s hard enough being here and not knowing anybody and they’re not very friendly—did you notice what a bitch Kym is?—and I try so hard, but…” A sob escaped her throat. Royd’s own throat tightened. This was not right. He’d thought she was the woman who stole the wand, the woman who sentenced all of his friends, his family, all of his people to die. But either she was the greatest actress the world had ever known or she honestly didn’t know what he was talking about. In which case, why was the wand’s power even now changing her? Who had taken it and hidden it in this house?
He slid on his knees across the floor to her and pulled her close, burying his nose in her soft, flowery-scented hair.
“Prudence,” he said. “The one who sent me to you is my commander, on orders from our queen. Maybe you do not know what I speak of. I will believe that. But we must find it. You must help me find it.”
She sniffled, her hands barely resting on his arms, as if she didn’t trust him. “So you weren’t paid by Kym or Lady Ravenancia or any of the other coven members?”
“Lady Ravenwhat?”
“Lady Ravenancia.” She pulled away from him, wiping her eyes with her fingers. “She’s our priestess.”
“Priestess?”
Prudence nodded. She knew the name was ridiculous, he saw it on her face—but she believed this woman was a witch. Royd knew better. The only one in that gathering he’d seen with any real power was Prudence herself. Some of that power came from the wand, but not all of it.
He refrained from further comment on “Ravenancia” and moved on to the subject at hand. “Prudence, the wand was taken only two days past. We must track your movements, find out where you may have picked it up and where in this house it may be.”
“Maybe it isn’t in the house.”
“No, it is.” The entire house had glowed faintly when he narrowed his eyes to see it the night before. Too bad the wand’s power was inert in the daytime. It would be impossible for him to follow the energy until nightfall.
“But I haven’t gone anywhere in the last two days except the ritual last night. I stayed home and—I just stayed home.”
“And?”
Her head moved against his chest. “Nothing. I just stayed home.”
He let it go. Her skin’s warmth told him she blushed, embarrassed. He didn’t need to intrude.
“Did anyone enter the house?”
“Aside from you, no.” She straightened up, wiping at her eyes with her fingertips. “Maybe someone planted it here while I was at the ritual last night? No, they couldn’t have, because you found me then, right?”
“You had already been near the wand, yes. It must be here in the house.”
They stayed on the floor for a minute, both looking around the room as if they expected the wand to leap out at them from a closet. Her hands on his chest moved, her fingers sliding across his skin.
“You’re really Fae,” she said. “I mean, really truly?”
He nodded.
“Can you—I mean, could you prove it, somehow?”
“You require proof?”
She paused, her blue eyes searching his face. “It’s not required, no…but I’d appreciate it.”
He supposed it was a reasonable request.
On the little table by the bed sat a pen. He picked it up, holding it across his palm. The sun warmed his skin as he closed his eyes, letting the energy swell up through his body, through his head. It left his mouth in the form of words, words in the achingly beautiful language of magic, the language he missed though he’d only been away from his people for a night. The human tongue was useful and not without charm, but it couldn’t compare to the speech of the Fae.
He opened his eyes and smiled. Even here his magic worked. Across his palm sat a silver quill, ornate and heavy. He held it out to her. “A gift.”
Pru reached for it, hesitated, then took it. He wanted to laugh at how wide her eyes were as she examined it. Here was a woman with true power, a woman studying whatever passed for witchcraft in that sad little coven, but the reality of magic stunned her.
“Does it work?”
Of all the questions to ask, this was what the woman he already started to think of as his Prudence said. It was as if the sun burst into his chest. “It does. Try it.”
She did, writing her own name on a piece of scrap paper. “The ink is different.
”
“It’s Fae ink.”
“Is the silver different?”
“Fae silver.”
“So everything is different there, right? Ink, silver, paper? Clothing?” He nodded to each of her questions. “Food, drink? Houses?”
She paused, still clasping the silver quill in her fist. “Time?”
“Time?”
“I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before,” she said, pacing back and forth across the oat-colored carpet. Every step made the silk of her robe open farther, exposing her beautiful legs. Her toenails were bright red. He wanted to suck on them. “Faerie tales.”
“Well, now, those are—”
“No, not faerie tales, like Cinderella. Faerie tales. Faerie rings. Rip Van Winkle.”
“I don’t—”
“No, you wouldn’t. But I do.” She stopped, a broad smile crossing her face. “See, when someone steps into a faerie ring, or is taken by the Fae, or however it happens, they dance all night. It’s pretty common in folklore and legends. They dance all night, and come home in the morning, but like, thirty years have passed. Sometimes more or less, but it’s always a significant amount of time.”
Some of her excitement transferred itself to him as he began to understand. “So in my world only two days have passed. In yours—”
“Years. Dozens of years, maybe even hundreds.”
The bed behind him looked more inviting than ever, and he plunked himself down on it. “So the wand may have been in this house for ages.”
Prudence nodded. “Which means it must be in the attic.”
Chapter Four
“We need to begin looking right away.” Royd frowned at the fried egg sandwich she placed in front of him. “I accept we need this food, but after that—”
Eighth Wand Page 3