“Looks like your gentleman caller has some competition.” She pointed at my plate of pancakes with her knife. “He might have to slather some of that sweetberry syrup on his lips to stand a chance with you.”
I laughed. It felt good. “I’d choose Jhaeros over sweetberries any day.”
“Must be love,” Keerla said. “I don’t get it, but I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks. I’m happy for me too.” I grinned and proceeded to dig into my pancakes.
Today, I got to have both sweetberries and Jhaeros. I hoped one day Mel would meet someone who treated her the way Jhaeros treated me. I wanted her to know that not all males were pit heads like Devdan.
After devouring every last drop of pancake and sauce, I cleared our plates and set them in the sink. While I was doing dishes, Mel tromped out, talking with Keerla. I looked over my shoulder. She’d brushed the tangles from her hair and had on her usual pants and blouse. A black cloak was balled up and bunched under her arm as though she planned on attending a funeral along the way.
“Ready to find yourself a mighty steed?” Keerla asked.
Mel slid a glance my way. “I don’t understand why you aren’t coming.” Before I could answer, Mel’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Unless you plan to call on Jhaeros again.”
“I’m not calling on him,” I stated, turning my attention back to the soapy water and the mugs, which were the last of the dishes. I scrubbed and rinsed them before setting them on the draining tray.
When I turned around, Mel had her arms folded around her cloak and was glowering at me.
“Is he coming over here?”
“Just for tea and a game of campaigne,” I said, feeling my cheeks heat as I thought of all the other things I’d like to do with him.
Mel huffed. “So that’s why you’re getting rid of me.”
“Seriously, Mel?” I said, feeling my patience strip away like a banana peel. “You should be happy to spend an afternoon picking out your own horse.”
“I don’t want a horse,” Mel snapped back. “What would I do with a horse? Ride over to the exciting village of Bluespark?” She made a loud snoring sound, briefly shutting her eyes as she did.
“It is pretty boring there,” Keerla said of her former home.
“I thought you’d enjoy a companion,” I said.
“A companion horse, oh sure, that makes sense,” Mel snipped. “Me and my horsey are going to have such meaningful conversations.” Mel rolled her eyes skyward. “I’d rather have another sword.”
“We could look at swords instead,” Keerla said with a shrug.
My shoulders slumped. “It doesn’t sound like Mel wants to go at all. Thanks for offering, Keerla, but I think it’s better if Mel stays home.”
Keerla folded her arms over her chest and shot Mel a menacing glare. “Nope, no way. Mel and I are spending the afternoon together. I don’t care where we go or what we do, but she’s not backing out”—Keerla slid a glance my way—“and neither are you.” Her fierce gaze meant business.
I nodded in thanks.
Though Mel pouted about it, she went without further argument. I watched my sister and Keerla from the kitchen window as first Mel and then Keerla mounted the horse. Mel sat in the front and patted the horse’s chestnut and white neck. Maybe she’d warm up to the idea of a horse by the end of the day and I’d see her riding back on her own steed. I certainly would have been excited to have my own horse at her age. But Mel wasn’t me.
As soon as they’d ridden off, I got to work making my chewy pumpkin, oat, walnut, and raisin cookies. While they baked, I rushed around the cottage, making sure everything was put away. I grabbed a miniature board of campaigne from my chamber and set it up with the tiny pieces on top of the trunk table. My miniature set was made of small wood carvings—sixteen pieces painted blue and sixteen painted red. The squares on the board were about a fourth the usual size. This was a travel set. I hadn’t gotten around to buying a full-size set.
Soon, the smell of sugared pumpkin filled every crevice of the cottage. The heat from the small brick oven helped warm the living space and cozy up the place. Once all the cookies were baked and set out to cool, I changed into a light blue gown with a low, loose bodice. I didn’t want to be tied up all tight, and besides, I had no one to secure a corset. I loathed the things, anyway.
Everything, myself included, was ready for Jhaeros’s visit, but I could not relax. I checked my reflection in my vanity mirror half a dozen times. I’d taken to wearing my hair down—every last strand free from pins or ties of any kind. It flowed light and bright down my shoulders. Blue ballerina slippers that matched my dress covered my feet. I was all but dancing in them as I flitted around from room to room. There wasn’t a whole lot of ground to cover in the small space of the cottage.
When the hour of Jhaeros’s arrival neared, I thought I might faint into a heap of spent nerves. I would have thought that knowing he loved me would have made things easier—no pining or agonizing over a male’s true feelings. But my heart was going haywire as a cyclone of emotions spun through me: excitement, passion, love, desire, need, hunger, and longing.
I heated the water in the teakettle for the fourth time, wanting it to be ready to pour as soon as Jhaeros stepped inside.
This afternoon we’d be truly alone for the first time. No crowded ballroom outside of a castle sitting room. No meddlesome father waiting impatiently inside an estate. Not even a blind butler in a foyer.
I leaned over the kitchen sink and peered out the window. No sign of Jhaeros yet. My skirts rustled as I ran into my room to check my reflection one last time. Nope, my hair and eye color hadn’t mysteriously changed during the past few minutes. Same face. Worried expression. Why did I look so worried? This was Jhaeros! I forced a smile over my lips, which appeared as more of a grimace.
A faint sound had me rushing out of my room and back to the kitchen window, but I didn’t see anything. I stood stationed behind the small square of glass until a dark gelding appeared, Jhaeros riding atop with a bouquet of pastel flowers in his left hand, the reins in his right. He looked so handsome on his steed. Well, he always looked handsome.
The smile lifting my cheeks felt genuine. I could finally relax a little now that Jhaeros had arrived. I fisted a handful of oats from a bag I kept in one of the lower pantry drawers and walked outside as Jhaeros rode up.
His face lit up when he saw me, and his smile stretched to his eyes. “Hello,” he said with a warm eagerness that curled my toes inside my slippers.
“Hi.” I beamed up at him as though he were a knight who’d stolen my heart.
Well, I wouldn’t be as forthcoming at campaigne. I could promise that much.
I offered my open palm filled with oats to the horse. His lips tickled my fingers as he gobbled them up. I swept my fingers clean while he munched on his snack. Jhaeros slid out of the saddle, landing in front of me. He held out a bouquet of pink chrysanthemums interspersed with delicate white candytuft and purple heather.
“They’re beautiful. Thank you,” I said, taking the flowers.
Jhaeros followed me to the shade behind the cottage where he secured his steed at a hitching post beside a water trough I kept clean for visitors—mostly Keerla. I still hoped Mel would return with a horse. I wouldn’t mind having a little more life around the cottage.
Once the horse was comfortably situated, I led Jhaeros back around and inside.
“Welcome to my humble home,” I said, feeling proud despite its size. I’d never had a place of my own until now.
I pulled out a blue-tinted vase with frosted white flowers etched into the glass, filled it with water, and put the lovely bouquet inside, taking a moment to admire the fall flowers. “Can I get you tea?” I asked.
When Jhaeros didn’t answer, I turned and caught him staring at my backside. He looked up quickly and cleared his throat.
“I’m fine right now. Thank you.”
“It’s not spiked or anything. I plan to bea
t you fair and square,” I teased.
Jhaeros’s eyes danced with amusement. “We shall see.”
I puffed up my chest. “The only thing you’re going to see is me whooping your ass.”
Jhaeros winced. It wasn’t the kind of language he was accustomed to. Well, he needed to get used to it.
I smirked and swished over to the living room, taking a seat in the armchair. Jhaeros followed slowly behind and lowered himself onto the sofa. When he looked at the campaigne board, his brows nearly touched.
“I need to get you a better game set,” he said.
“But this one is so cute.”
He looked up and met my gaze. I smiled, which made him smile, which made my smile widen, then his, until we were grinning at one another like a couple of love-struck fools.
“I think you’re cute.”
Amused laughter burst from my lips. Had Jhaeros really just said that out loud? I was totally corrupting him.
“Okay, Keasandoral, no more stalling,” I chided. “Today we find out who is the true campaigne champion.”
“Ladies first,” Jhaeros drawled in a deep tone that warmed my belly.
I moved my first piece, a shrub, and started the game, but Jhaeros’s attention kept drifting to my bosom rather than the board. My breasts ached and nipples hardened to points beneath his gaze. I shifted from one thigh to the other, trying to get comfortable in my seat. When I moved to pick up another shrub, I accidently lifted my mage.
“I meant to grab a shrub,” I said in alarm. When I looked up, Jhaeros smiled and shook his head.
“These game pieces are too small. I don’t know how anyone plays on them . . . unless they’re only in their fifth year.”
I snorted. “Just what every five-year-old wants to do—spend hours staring at a game board.”
“I did,” Jhaeros said, straightening his spine.
I could picture him as the dignified young elf, sitting ramrod straight as he contemplated the campaigne pieces and where he planned to move them. Hours of entertainment for someone as straitlaced as Jhaeros.
He looked down at the board. “Do you have a pair of tweezers? Maybe then we could move our pieces.”
I laughed. “They’re not that small.”
Jhaeros raised his eyebrows at me then got up and began a slow tour of the living room, inspecting every nook and cranny.
I swiveled around in the armchair, as much as it would allow. “Hey, we’re in the middle of a game.”
Jhaeros kept looking around, moving from one spot to the next.
I got out of my chair and put my hands on my hips. “Still afraid to lose to me?” I questioned.
Jhaeros pulled his attention away from the stack of pillows in the alcove, sliding his gaze smoothly across the small space until locking eyes with me. His expression was very serious at the moment.
“You’ve already won,” he said softly.
Tingles of electricity sizzled through my blood. I blinked.
He took a step toward me.
“You have my heart.”
Another step.
“My soul.”
Another.
“My undying devotion.”
The breath left my lungs when he filled the space directly in front of me.
“You have all of me.”
My body shivered in anticipation and need, spiraling out of control. But Jhaeros stood as still and immobile as a king on the campaigne board. It took me several seconds to realize he’d made his move—several moves—and was waiting for me to make mine.
Without further hesitation, I threw my arms around his neck and pulled his mouth to mine. Jhaeros grabbed me by the ass and jerked me against him. He might not be able to say the word “ass,” but he most certainly knew how to handle one. I yanked his head closer, running my fingers through his silky hair as his tongue thrust its way inside my mouth.
Jhaeros lifted me several inches off the ground and carried me to the hallway before setting me back down. One hand left my backside as he pawed at a door handle.
I broke off our kiss, gasping, “No. Mel’s room.”
Jhaeros jerked his hand away from the knob, and I swallowed down a chuckle at the thought of us defiling my sister’s personal domain.
Mel would just lovvvve that!
We stumbled to the next door, nearly tripping along the way as though we’d entered a three-legged race and the finish line was only a hop, skip, and a jump away. Jhaeros twisted the knob on my door before we shoved our way to the cavernous space within.
Faint light spilled in from the door, which neither of us bothered to close. I grabbed Jhaeros between the legs and squeezed. He groaned and retaliated by yanking my bodice clear down to my waist. I gasped as cool air rushed over my breasts.
Jhaeros growled at the sight. His thumbs brushed over the tips, teasing them into tighter peaks. He stared with lambent eyes as though seeing a sunset for the very first time. When it came to Jhaeros, I wouldn’t be surprised if these were the first pair of tits he’d ever clapped eyes on. He’d probably planned to save himself for marriage . . . until a certain widowed elf (me!) went turning his sense of propriety all topsy-turvy, upside down.
Jhaeros groped greedily before licking, tasting—sucking the tender flesh until I could only breathe in pants and gasps. Heat bloomed between my legs. I grabbed at his pants, but Jhaeros captured my wrists, unwilling to relinquish my breasts so soon.
He backed me up to my bed. We fell over the side onto the mattress—me on my back, Jhaeros on top. I moaned as he bathed my breasts with his tongue. My hips arched, rising off the mattress, as I tried to rub against him so he’d hurry up and fill the aching need between my legs.
“Jhaeros,” I pleaded.
The warmth of his tongue on my right breast made the left one tighten and peak in the cool room. Jhaeros caressed my free breast with measured strokes.
When I moaned, he drew my nipple in and sucked.
“Jhaeros,” I pleaded again.
How could he torment me this way?
He slipped a hand up my skirts, fingers gliding up my leg, beneath my shift. When he reached my thigh, I opened my legs. He slipped a finger inside me and, feeling how molten I’d become, added a second finger and began to stroke.
My body shuddered, and my eyes squeezed shut as though I was in unbearable pain. But it was ecstasy, and it was blinding. My moans could have been those of a dying warrior’s, feeling too much at once. If Jhaeros had a kind bone in his body, he’d stop torturing me and end my suffering.
Jhaeros yanked my skirts up to my waist with the rest of my mangled dress. I might as well have been naked with everything on display in the wide slice of light spilling in from the hallway.
Finally, Jhaeros seemed to understand that the fire he’d stoked was burning out of control and only he could put it out.
He released my breast and tore down his trousers before yanking my hips into position, driving his entire length inside me in one thrust. I nearly fell apart.
The wooden headboard thumped against the wall as Jhaeros rode me into the mattress.
I threw my head back and moaned.
Jhaeros growled, which was appropriate when I felt like I had a beast between my legs.
I felt gravity slip away and my body float, hips rising with his as I tightened around him. I could no longer think, speak, or breathe. Sobs of ecstasy filled the room, followed by a wail of release. Sun, moon, and stars flashed over my darkened ceiling. I floated atop the mattress as though on a cloud.
When my body went limp, Jhaeros let go with a groan that made his body tighten and his head jerk back. Once freed from the throes of release, he scooted behind me and wrapped me in his arms, rocking me gently as he kissed my neck.
“I need you, Aerith,” Jhaeros said in a breathy whisper.
I chuckled silently. “You just had me.”
“I need you to be mine. I need to see your smiling face every day. I need you in my bed every night.”
A soft ringing filled my ears and made my head dizzy. Something was off, pulling me from the present.
The room went arctic. My body turned cold as Jhaeros and his warmth slipped away, leaving me alone in an empty, cavernous space. All the brightness and joy were sucked from the room.
Jhaeros faded away, replaced by the last male I ever wanted to see again.
“Lucky male, my brother,” Liri drawled, “to have you in his bed every night.”
How did he find me?
He couldn’t be here!
He wasn’t.
And neither was I.
Somehow I’d been sucked into the quicksand of treacherous memories.
My body stiffened in the tight corset of my blue ballgown. Symphony music swirled around us as beautifully dressed Fae danced in feathered and jeweled masks. Crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead, projecting shimmers of light that reminded me of broken glass.
“You shouldn’t say things like that to me,” I hissed at my brother-in-law, not taking my eyes off my mate and the petite brunette in the shiny silver mask he spun on the dance floor.
It was my duty to watch out for Cirrus, which meant always being wherever he was like a damn guard dog trotting after her master. Watching. Waiting. Ready to attack anyone who meant Cirrus harm, which mostly consisted of his siblings. Always on pins and needles. Welcome to the glamorous life of a princess.
“You deserve better,” Liri said in his haughty royal voice.
I narrowed my eyes and turned to him. Only, it wasn’t his face I looked into but that of a black mask with a long nose. He looked every bit the dark Fae prince—the one the rest of the Elmray siblings were careful not to provoke.
I glanced back at Cirrus in his white and silver glittered mask.
“I don’t mean him,” Liri said. “He’s already been dealt with. I’m referring, sweet Aerith, to the male you just slept with.”
The music stopped.
My bejeweled slippers remained on the polished floor of the ballroom, but the gathered assembly dissolved, leaving me alone with Liri.
Dread spread through my veins like icy tentacles, squeezing the last of the warmth from my body. I might as well have been miles under water where no sunlight reached.
Stolen Princess Page 16