by Jen Katemi
Pain flashes in his eyes, and I pat him gently on the chest.
“But you didn’t. And you were strong enough.” I wriggle a bit, stretching my arms and legs and experimenting to see the extent of my physical state. “See? I’m all fixed. You should cut yourself some slack, Tarrien.”
“Slack?”
“You know, rope. It’s...oh, never mind. Just focus on the fact that I’m here and I’m fine, and it’s all thanks to you.”
He removes his arm from my shoulders, and runs his hands through his hair. For the first time since we met, he looks rather dishevelled. It does nothing to lessen his overall sexiness. My woman bits choose this moment to wake up. I try to ignore the ache of desire between my legs, and move a lock of hair away from where it has fallen across his cheek.
“How long have I been out of it, Tarrien?”
“A day and a half since I brought you back here.”
“Have you had any rest in that time?”
“No. At first I was working to bring you back, and then... well.” His cheeks darken in a slight blush. My brows rise at the sight.
“And then?” I prompt.
“And then, once you moved out of danger into a more natural state, I just enjoyed watching you sleep. That probably sounds creepy to you, right?”
A chuckle bursts out of me. “No creepier than finding out you’d been stalking around spying on me for a week, when I didn’t know you were there.”
“Indie, I apologize for—”
“Stop apologizing. I’m teasing you, Tarrien. You know, if we are going to spend time together, then I think we’re going to have to extend that sense of humor of yours.”
“I want to spend time with you, and I would not want anyone else teaching me how to be less serious. But there’s something you should know...something I should have told you straight away...”
I sigh, perhaps a little more dramatically than I need to, but he doesn’t take the hint. Seems like “serious” Tarrien is still in play.
“I couldn’t sense where you were straight away, when they first snatched you from the club,” he says. There is a note of apology in his tone. “It wasn’t me who located you in the Badlands, Indie. It was Renna. Renna, of all people! Once she did, I was able to home in on your essence, but you have your mother to thank for finding you in the first place.”
“Renna? She helped find me?”
He nods. “If I had located you sooner, then maybe you wouldn’t have been traumatized, or hurt. It’s my fault you almost—”
“Stop! None of this is your fault. It’s that goddamn exiled stupid fucking queen of yours.” I frown. “Our queen, I guess, if you count a half-fae as one of your own. And...”
Here’s the tricky bit. I don’t quite know how to raise this with Tarrien. There’s simply no easy way to say it. In the end, I take a deep breath and blurt it out.
“The person helping her with her evil plan might have been related to...you. I think—well, actually, I don’t think, I know—it was...your father. He looked almost exactly like you, and given what you told me about his relationship with the banished queen...well...” I shrug, not needing to say more.
There. That was gentle enough, wasn’t it?
Tarrien stands and begins to pace back and forth across the room. His distress is evident in the jerky movements and the grim set of his features.
Hmm. Maybe not gentle enough.
“I’m sorry,” I add. “I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine, Indie. I know my father is involved. The queen as much as confirmed it, before she escaped. I always suspected, which is why I’ve continued to do Renna’s bidding for so long. Trying to make amends, in my own way, for something I always felt guilty about on my family’s behalf.”
My heart squeezes tight when I see his anguish and I wish I could tell him otherwise. But he deserves to know the truth.
“He was there, Tarrien, and I don’t think he was helping her, as such. I think he was in control of them all. Even the queen, though she wants everyone to believe she’s in charge. He—your father—might be the actual mastermind behind all of this...horror.”
“I didn’t know for sure, Indie.”
“I know you didn’t.”
“Not until I burst into that ritual and saw Rhiannon standing behind you. She almost brought down the Winter Court with her betrayal and her hunger for power.” He finally stops pacing and turns to face me, his eyes steely gray.
“But he is the one who creates and controls those abominations. Not her. He did it. And I will do everything in my power to stop him. I don’t care what it takes. The day my father chose evil over good, is the day he ceased to be my blood.”
I don’t know what drives me, other than instinct. I throw back the bed covers and jump out, rushing over to Tarrien and sliding my arms around his waist.
After a moment, his arms come around me, too. The embrace feels right, and I don’t want to let him go.
Eventually, I realize that I’m wearing a white nightdress, and no underwear. None whatsoever.
“Umm, what happened to that dress I had on when you rescued me?” I ask.
He wrinkles his nose. “That blood-soaked piece of fabric that barely covered anything, even though it reached your feet? I had it burned.”
“Oh. Good. But...” I swallow nervously. “Who undressed me, when I got here?”
“I did.” His brows rise up as he stares down at me. “I don’t understand. Is that an issue? I’ve seen it all before, remember?”
Oh, yes, I remember.
My cheeks begin to heat, as do other parts of me.
“I don’t have an issue with that,” I say, my husky voice already communicating my growing need.
Tarrien crushes me against him, leaving me in no doubt whatsoever about his need being very much in sync with mine. His flesh is firm against my belly.
I release a shaky breath, and stand on my tiptoes to receive his kiss. The added height brings his organ into contact with my aching clit instead of my belly, and I release a moan that disappears into Tarrien just as his mouth connects with mine.
His answering groan is deep and rough as we press against each other. The sound reverberates all the way through me. My lips explore his with abandon, and he deepens the kiss as our tongues slip and slide and dance with each other in an erotic parody of actual lovemaking.
When we finally break apart, we are both breathing fast. There are spots of color in Tarrien’s cheeks, and I’m sure my own face is equally flushed.
“Can you do that thing again, the trick with the disappearing clothing?” I can hardly speak, due to the waves of desire that wash over me.
“Hmm. That’s a big ask, Indie, considering how much clothing you have on.”
A bubble of laughter pops out of me. “I guess you’ve passed your first lesson in humor with flying colors.”
He does a little wave with one of his hands, and we are both instantly naked. His skin against mine is warm and smooth, and I run my hands appreciatively over his chest and across his shoulders.
One of his hands cups a breast. “I believe I am a quick learner, Indie.”
His mouth descends and he draws in a nipple, sucking and licking so deeply that I feel the pull all the way down in my womb.
“Oh, I think you must be. That feels so good,” I gasp.
He raises his head and stares at me, his eyes all silver. No gray whatsoever.
“That is only the beginning of the onslaught, Indie.”
When he places his hands on my buttocks and lifts me up, I wrap my legs around his hips. He kisses me again, and carries me back to the bed. He lays me on my back and then kneels on the floor between my open legs.
“I hope this feels even better.” He dips his head between my legs, and takes my clit into his mouth, licking and sucking until I can’t think at all, but only feel. The sensation is so intense I moan and buck beneath him, the pressure building to an intensity that is beyond anything I have ever exper
ienced.
“Tarrien, I can’t hold on. I’m going to...please, I need you inside me...”
He is up in a flash, onto the bed, and he settles his rigid flesh right at the entrance to my channel. Everything down there is slick and wet from his mouth, and when I lift my hips to meet him, the head of his cock slides in without any resistance whatsoever.
He grunts, and thrusts hard, seating himself fully inside me. Again, I wrap my legs around his hips and buttocks. The feel of his fullness within and the weight of him on my outer sex are like twin pressures that are exquisite and almost unbearable.
He balances on his elbows and stares down at me. “When I was healing you, Indie, I had to dig deep inside to find your essence.”
“Really?” I jiggle my hips, reminding him to move.
Instead, his hips remain still. He bends his head and kisses me so gently on the lips that the connection is almost not there. But the effect is so intense it takes me right to the edge of the precipice. If he moves now, I will explode around him in a violent orgasm.
“I found your banshee essence, Indie. Deep down inside you. I found your life threads, but I also found your death magic.”
Before I can react in any way, he breaks out into the biggest smile I have ever seen on his face. The smile creates joy in my heart.
“It was beautiful, Indie. So beautiful. When I bound myself to you, to bring you back, I experienced something I have never before experienced, ever, in my life.”
He stares down at me in wonder, and I reach up and cup his cheek.
“You weren’t afraid? Death is terrifying, to most. Even to me, sometimes.”
“I felt like I had found my soul mate, Indie. I felt like I had found my other half.”
With that, he begins to thrust, gently at first and then faster, pounding into me so hard that my head bumps against the headboard.
I don’t care. The connection is perfect. He saw my banshee power and he wasn’t afraid. He saw me—the real me—and it didn’t scare him away. The rush of desire is so sudden and explosive, the sensation building so quickly, that I tip over the precipice within seconds, falling into the most intense orgasm of my life.
He releases a guttural roar and follows me into climax, his hot seed rushing into me and our bodies bucking and shuddering together.
As we slowly come back to the moment, the enormity of what he said overwhelms me. I begin to tremble, and the urge to cry becomes so strong I close my eyes tight to contain the emotion.
“What is it, my love?” He presses gentle kisses on my eyelids, and I squeeze them even tighter shut for a moment, before opening my eyes and facing him.
“What you said, about seeing my death magic. The source of my banshee power.”
“Yes. Is it okay that I told you? Does it make you...uncomfortable, to have had me poking around inside you?”
Even now, he is doubtful.
“You saved my life, Tarrien. I will be forever grateful for that. It’s definitely not that worrying me.” I frown, trying to find the right words. “If you found my banshee song, then maybe others can find it, too. The queen—”
“Try not to think of her, Indie. She will never again be a threat to you. I promise.”
“But it was so awful, Tarrien. They said they would drain me. If I gave them my name, apparently that would amplify the power in my blood, so they wouldn’t need to take as much. But I wouldn’t give it to them. I knew it wouldn’t make any difference to me. I figured I was gonna be dead anyway. But I was hoping it might make a difference to others.”
A particular memory rises and I gasp. “She said she’s going after my siblings. She’s going to drain them all. Because I didn’t give them my name. And if she does, then it will be all my fault.”
Chapter Twelve
I CAN’T HOLD IN THE tears any longer. I hate that I’m crying in front of anyone, but particularly in front of him. I want him to see me as strong and independent.
But I can’t help it. I was so afraid, when they took me, and I tried so hard not to let them see it. Now that I’m safe, it seems ridiculous that I can’t stop the tears from flowing.
Tarrien, to his credit, doesn’t pull away. Instead, he wraps his arms tightly around me and croons in that delightfully soothing tone, in a language I don’t understand, until eventually, the tears and the hiccups subside.
“How do you do that?” I hiccup. Okay, maybe not all of them have subsided. “Healing magic?”
“Not healing magic. I don’t know. I just hold you, and I feel things. Things I’ve never felt before. Things I was always told a winter warrior could—or should—never feel.” He shrugs, still wrapped around me, and I shift until his heart is beneath my ear.
It is beating quite fast, and sounds healthy, for a heart that is meant to be encased in ice.
“And then I tell you about what I’m feeling, in my own language,” he adds.
I start to speak—to tell him I want to learn his beautiful language—but my nose is still running. I sniff and stare around in vain for a box of tissues. “What do fae use to blow their noses with?”
His body shakes. I realize he’s laughing.
“Now, that is where magic does come in handy. Here.” He disentangles himself from me and cradles my face in his hands. Warmth suffuses me, and suddenly my nose is no longer in need of a tissue.
“All fixed?” He places a gentle kiss on the tip of my nose, then moves up to do the same on my forehead.
“Yes. All fixed.”
How is it possible that a light kiss can send tremors right through my system, so soon after we sated our desire?
As if he senses my need, his pupils flare, and just like that, desire is re-ignited.
“Will you teach me your language, Tarrien?” My voice is husky.
He smooths back my hair.
“Afterward,” he says, and I’m gratified to note his voice is equally as rough.
“After what?” I begin tracing a pattern on his bare chest, aimlessly at first and then with more intent. I swirl downward, until finally I reach the nest of hair at the base of his shaft.
He shudders and releases a tiny groan. “After...oh, that is very nice, Indie. Very nice indeed.”
“After...?” I run a fingertip up his shaft, circling the head of his organ. He sucks in his breath.
“After we make love once again,” he says in a rush, and flops backward onto the bedcovers. His organ reaches skyward as I continue to circle the tip.
“Only once?” I love teasing him like this. I feel powerful and wanted. I take his shaft in my fist and pump the flesh a few times, enjoying the uneven harshness of his breath.
His hand comes down to cover mine. “Many times, Indie. Perhaps a lifetime’s worth of making love. If that appeals to you, of course?”
If that appeals...?
I bend down, sliding him deep into my mouth and throat. I add in my fingers for good measure, cupping his balls and dipping into that little gap behind them that is so sensitive in men. He growls somewhere far above me, his whole body shuddering now.
“For the love of the winter gods, Indie, I need to be inside you. I mean...inside your...”
His voice trails off as I continue to bend and dip and suck, increasing the tempo until the slick burst of flavor in my mouth signals he is fast approaching a climax. I let him free, and then climb over him until I straddle his hips, my pussy hovering just above his rigid organ.
“A lifetime’s worth...of this?” I slowly descend, letting his organ slide deep into my channel. I settle myself more comfortably atop him, the pressure inside an exquisite torture that I want to prolong for as long as I can.
He nods frantically in response to my question, seemingly unable to formulate actual words.
“Then yes, please, Tarrien. Making love to you, over and over, appeals to me very much. Far more than I ever expected it to.”
I begin to rock back and forth, feeling the increasing pressure in my clit, coupled with additional press
ure deep within my belly. The feeling grows, until there is nothing left but Tarrien and me, connected in the most intimate way possible.
When he arches his back and roars, I join him, screaming, and we climax together as he releases his load inside me with a shudder. Endless waves of pleasure engulf my whole body. I collapse against his chest, feeling both shattered, and completed. I cannot understand why this man is the right one for me. But everything—my gut, my heart, and even my head—tells me he is.
When eventually, my heart rate slows to a more normal level and my breathing becomes less ragged, I smile against his chest. I am more replete than I have ever been in my life.
And I couldn’t imagine a better place to fall asleep than right here in Faerie, wrapped in Tarrien’s muscled arms.
Tarrien
WE BOTH DRIFT IN AND out of sleep. I have never felt so sated, nor so complete. Even as I slide back into slumber, I know my face is sporting a wide grin.
“Uh, Tarrien?”
Indie’s voice seeps into my half-dreams. Dreams where I lay entwined with the woman I love, warm and secure in her embrace. Dreams where I tell her how much I love her, and she says exactly the same in return, and the world does not end, or implode, and nothing evil happens at all. Instead, we decide to stay like this forever, wrapped in each other arms, drawing comfort and strength from one another, two halves of the same soul...complete at last...
“Please wake up, Tarrien. I have something important to ask you.”
I blink and come back to consciousness slowly. Indie slips out of my hold and sits up. She brings her knees up to her chest and hugs them. Her skin is so pale and smooth. She’s beautiful.
I reach out and caress her arm, enjoying the goosebumps that raise themselves beneath my touch. “What is it, my sexy little banshee?”
A smile lifts her beautiful mouth, though only for a moment. Then a frown descends as she turns to study me and I sense her mood change. I stop touching her and roll properly onto my side, propping myself up on an elbow.
“What is it?” I ask again, this time in a firm tone that shows her I’m genuinely listening.