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Lust

Page 28

by Charlotte Featherstone


  “Yes, open for me.”

  Parting her knees, she exposed herself to him. Thane was mesmerized by the sight of her pink silk, wet with desire, waiting for him.

  “Yes,” he murmured, his gaze fixed on her sex. And then he filled her in one swift movement, watching as he joined with her. He looked up, and saw that she, too, was watching as she took him in, swallowing his cock in her heated silk.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked, shaking as she caressed the tips of his ears. “We’re one, Chastity.”

  “Yes,” she said softly, angling her hips so that she could see more of his penetration.

  He hooked her legs over his arms, raising her hips so that she could see all of him as he stroked and filled her.

  “I want it faster and harder.”

  “And so you shall have it as you want it, Chastity,” he whispered, filling her as fast and as hard as she would allow.

  “Thane!” she cried. His rhythm was pounding, relent less, and she rode it, gripping him with her thighs as he stared down at her. She saw the lust in his eyes, and the love, as well.

  Arching beneath him, she brought her arms above her head, let her fingers curl with his as he took her hard, possessively. “I love how you make me feel. What you’re making me into.”

  And she did. She could feel herself changing, becoming someone bold, confident. There had been pleasures of the flesh she had never even heard of, just waiting to be tried, to be experienced. And she would never have had them without Thane. Without her Dark Fey.

  “Make me into whatever you want,” she begged as release rode upon her. “Please, Thane.”

  “All right,” he whispered, filling her hard, pinning her to the bed beneath them. “I’ll make you into what I want you to be—mine!”

  Her life changed in that moment, claimed by her Dark Fey lover. She was a new woman, in every sense of the word. Sexual. Insatiable.

  An hour later, she climbed on top of him, loving him as she wished. He let her do as she pleased, smiling up at her as she learned how to move. When he cupped her breasts, she moaned and he smiled.

  “What have I made you into?” he teased. She looked down at him, smiled and caressed his ear.

  “You’ve made me yours. A princess of the Dark Fey Court. A follower of its voluptuous pleasures.”

  EPILOGUE

  Dear Diary,

  I have learned through my years as a mortal that change is inevitable. Even for an immortal fey prince, the uncertainty of life is the commodity that binds us together with our existence.

  As I reflect upon my life, I have come to a sort of acceptance—to embrace what I once was, and what I am now. Before, I was a virtue. Now, I am a fey princess, bound to the Dark Court. Some would argue that I am no longer alive. That I am cursed. Soulless. Empty. I have given my body and soul to a faery, and therefore, I am nothing—dead.

  But if, indeed, I am dead, then I must concede that I am more alive than ever I was. In this life, I am free to be who I am. A woman of noble birth. A woman possessed of a deep well of passion. A woman possessed by Lust.

  I remember those minutes, the moments I gave myself to Lust, and committed my virtue to the Unseelie Court; when I gave my soul to my Dark Fey prince. There was no fear, no remorse, only the splendor of passion, the warmth and promise of everlasting pleasure with this man. As my heart slowed, I felt him clutching me, as if silently pleading with me to stay with him, to not change my mind and leave him alone forever.

  I watched him take of me—his body loving mine. Never had he made such beautiful love to me. At that moment, I knew that both Lust and Thane were vital to my existence. I felt my soul lift, then suffuse into his body. His beautiful eyes closed in ecstasy at the taste, the intimacy of having me inside him, the sanctity of sheltering my soul for eternity. This image of the man I loved pressed against me was the last my living, mortal eyes saw before I was claimed by him as his eternal bride.

  I am enslaved now, but not a prisoner. I have chosen this life willingly, and do not regret it. How could I when I have a man like Thane to tempt me? To care for me? To love me?

  I am a virtue. A savior in my new home, for the Unseelie Court is now home. The Dark Fey my family. I have given up my mortal life to become the first of seven women to save a dying court—a court as misunderstood as I once believed I was.

  My human family resides “up top” in the mortal realm. I come to them at night, in their dreams, through the magic of my husband. I miss them, especially my sisters whose fates are entwined with mine. I speak to them of the splendor of the court, the pleasures that await them—the princes who desire them. But they are still virtues, and not yet ready to heed the call of desire. But still, their sins await them, ever patient, ever proud. Ever eager to give them a taste of the desires harbored within a Dark Fey. Soon, they will come. They will listen to their hearts, and they will trust as I have trusted. We will be reunited—in this world. I am certain of it.

  While my sisters speak to me in their dreams, Mama weeps for me while Papa sits in his study, all alone. He has told Mama of his bargain with the fey, and while she was shocked, heartbroken and outraged, she has begun to slowly accept that we shall meet again. Perhaps it is my nightly visits to her that have helped her accept that her daughters are not cursed, but blessed. We were born to a higher power, a power that is much needed in the Unseelie Court.

  I am not angry with Papa. He made his pact with the faery queen out of love. I have come to realize what one will do in the name of love, for I know there is nothing I would not do for Thane.

  My heart beats for him. My body burns for his touch. Thane, my Dark Fey prince. My lover. My husband is more than I could ever have hoped for. He has worked tirelessly to bring me happiness. To make my transition from mortal to faery princess as easy as possible. He still feels some measure of guilt for betraying me, even though I have tried to convince him that my heart and soul have always longed for him, to be where he is, whether it be in the mortal realm, or his court. How can he not realize that it was him alone that awakened me? That made me see who I truly was? What woman would not wish to give up everything in order to stay with him? I tell him this, every night, right before he takes me. Sometimes it is Lust who claims my body. Sometimes my Unseelie lover. But it is always beautiful. Always breathtaking. Always love.

  My existence was part of a curse, my conception used to thwart this court. All my life I believed my virtue was a higher power, my birth something precious. But it has been a sad truth to realize that I was conceived to hurt. To destroy. I was born to ruin this court, and Thane.

  For in the weeks here, I have realized that all is not as it would appear in the mortal realm—or in Faery. Those we thought we knew, we discover we never really knew at all. Sometimes it pains us to discover that someone we thought so highly of is not worthy of our love. Sometimes it gives us relief to be proved wrong, to be shown the goodness in someone we feared incapable of anything but destruction.

  Good and evil, saint and sinner, all relative terms and as blurred as the many faceted layers of the truth. What is good? What is evil? I wonder if I shall ever know, shall ever understand the workings of good and bad. I always thought I did, until that night when I realized it was possible for good to be bad, and those who were considered to be evil, to be good.

  Sin is a pleasure, and sometimes pleasure is a sin—but never here at the Dark Court. Here, sin is always a pleasure, and I shall embark to commit it every day of my existence alongside my fey prince.

  MIDNIGHT. THE GARDEN WAS ENGULFED IN SHADOW. The air heavy with an impending storm. She had come again, in her dreams. Chastity. Glowing. Beautiful. In love.

  Mary sat on the garden bench, stewing at the memory of her sister. It had not been a dream. Chastity had really been there—present in her room. She’d been smiling, happy, and Mary knew that her sister was lying with a beautiful faery and enjoying every second of it.

  Why? she wondered, not for the first time. Why had Chasti
ty been first? She cursed Crom for not being able to find her sister in time before she’d been carted off to the Unseelie Court. They had made a bargain, and now she was left here, forced to bear witness to her sister’s conjugal bliss.

  Angry and jealous, Mary tore the petals off a rose and squeezed the bud tightly in her fist. She would not be left alone.

  “You’ve been betrayed.”

  Crom’s voice came from the shadows, and Mary watched as he appeared, golden and beautiful and virile as he walked toward her.

  “You’ve been robbed of your birthright.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked, narrowing her gaze.

  She had not seen Crom in weeks. That he was here now must mean he needed her again. Well, she would not agree to any further alliance with him.

  “You were intended for Rinion, the Dark Fey prince possessed of Vanity.”

  “As I told you.”

  “Your father made a bargain with him. The hand of his firstborn daughter, for unlimited riches. Beltane was to have been your wedding day.”

  “Then why I am here?” she snapped. “Why am I still suffering this deplorable existence?”

  “Because you weren’t his firstborn daughter. That honor, my lovely, belongs to the village seamstress’s daughter.”

  “A bastard!” she spat, unable to credit it. “That plain… daughter of the seamstress, she has the beautiful fey in tended for me?”

  Crom’s eyes glistened. “She does, indeed. And every thing he is giving to her, should be yours.”

  Jumping up, Mary paced before the bench, unconcerned with the fact she was in her nightclothes. Suddenly, she stopped and looked up at the Seelie prince.

  “What can be done?”

  “I am certain that you can have him—but it will cost you. Faery gifts do not come without a tithe.”

  “Don’t I know it,” she drawled. “Well, what do you want?”

  “Prudence,” he promptly replied. “Tonight.”

  “Why?”

  Crom shrugged. “I could not have Chastity. ’Tis a pity, I wanted her not just because she was a virtue, but be cause I desired her. She is lost now, corrupted by Lust and my dark counterparts. But the other virtues cannot be lost. They cannot be allowed to go to their court. I must possess them if I am to see the Dark Court destroyed.”

  “And what will I get?” Mary snapped. It was no trial to hand over her sister to Crom. The uptight, spinsterish Prudence actually wanted to go their court.

  Crom took a step closer and captured her face in his hands. “If you help me obtain your sisters, then I will make certain that Rinion will be yours.”

  “A Dark Fey, for my sister.”

  “Precisely.”

  Crom lowered his head and Mary looked into his beautiful eyes. “You don’t need me, do you?” she asked coyly.

  “You are not a virtue,” he whispered, “but I need you. I think you know just how much.”

  No, she was not a virtue. She’d always known that. But she wanted what was supposed to be hers. Rinion. But she suddenly found herself curious about what Crom was offering. Men always wanted her, and she wanted them. She could feel how much Crom desired her.

  “We’ll work together,” he murmured as he brushed his thumb over her lips, “and I can show you how to pleasure your Dark lover. I am half Dark Fey, you know, and have more than my share of their desires.”

  Mary trembled as Crom tore her night rail from her body. She was wet. Aching. She was not virtue. Or a virgin.

  “You want this,” he asked as he cupped her breasts.

  “Yes. I want this bargain. I want you. But most of all, I want what’s mine.”

  “Then you shall have it.”

  And, heedless of her own betrayal to her sisters, Mary lay down on the grass beneath Crom and allowed his pleasure while she thought of how she would convince Prudence to go with Crom to his court. Thoughts of the Seelie Court soon gave way to images of the decadent Unseelie Court.

  Closing her eyes, Mary pictured Rinion, and imagined it was his mouth licking her sex—not Crom’s.

  “Yes,” she cried out, bucking beneath him. Yes…she would have what she was entitled to, even if she had to sell her own mother to the Seelie Fey to get it.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  THANK YOU TO KATHLEEN OUDIT, FOR ONCE again spoiling me with a gorgeous cover. It’s everything I wanted and more!

  And to my fantabulous editor, Susan Swinwood, who most definitely lives up to the adage Patience is a virtue! Thank you for that!

  LUST

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-8443-6

  Copyright © 2011 by Charlotte Featherstone

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photography and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Spice Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  For questions and comments about the quality of this book please contact us at Customer_eCare@Harlequin.ca.

  Spice and the Colophon are trademarks used under license and registered in Australia, New Zealand, Philippines, United States Patent and Trademark Office and in other countries.

  www.Spice-Books.com

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Also by CHARLOTTE FEATHERSTONE

  Title Page

  Dedication

  CONTENTS

  THE CURSE OF THE UNSEELIE COURT

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  EPILOGUE

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Copyright

 

 

 


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