FAERY GODLOVER
Lizzie Lynn Lee
Summary:
Capricious and rakish, the fae prince Duada Sidherhain lives a hedonistic life in the Summerland Court, dallying with every female that catches his fancy. Tired of his rebellious ways, the Queen sends him to Earth to be a guardian fae to a woman with an unlucky love life. Duada must find her a perfect man before he’s allowed to return to the faeland.
Curvaceous barista Jasmine Duval feels she had been cursed in the dating department. It doesn’t matter that she’s an attractive and vivacious girl; she seems to only attract the worst sort of guys. For months, she’d sworn off men before Duada descends chaotically into her life. He offers her a trade: he will set her up on a series of dates to find her a dream guy, so he can return home.
But Duada is full of mischief as he has a wicked sense of humor. Because Jasmine is sweet and too forgiving, he can’t stop himself from causing trouble on her dates. Unwittingly, Duada finds himself attracted to her. He wants Jasmine for himself even though she’s off limits.
Or is she?
First Edition 2016
©Copyright Lizzie Lynn Lee June 2016
Cover Art by (Lizzie Lynn Lee) ©Copyright (June/2016)
Edited by LinnieSarah Helpern
Proofread by Cassie Hess Dean
Galley Proofread by Lisa Bing
This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
Table of Contents
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
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One
There was nothing that pleased him more than to hear a woman’s cries while in throes of ecstasy. A stifled gasp escaped from her delicate throat as the prince’s hips thrust forward in a rhythmic, fluid force that drove him in and out of her ceaselessly, his energy seemingly boundless.
A curl of dark hair spilled over his face and his skin shone from perspiration, but it only served to make him look more ethereal, more hauntingly beautiful. His amethyst eyes gazed at her with haughty satisfaction as she gripped the silken bed sheets.
She was nearing her climax.
“Say it,” he cooed down at the woman as he slowed his rhythm, and she put a hand up on his chest, an unspoken plea for him to continue his ministration.
“I-I,” she gasped, face flushing.
She shivered when he tightened his hand over her breast and flicked his thumb over her sensitive nipple. With a smirk on his lips, he slipped his hand down to where he was penetrating her, stroking the sensitive nub. “I want to hear it from you, my sweet.”
“P-Prince Duada, please!” she gasped loudly, the sound filling the lavishly ornate, marble-floored chamber they were in, from the ancient masterpieces of art hanging on the walls to the tapestries of finely-woven embroidery.
“Good girl,” he whispered. He started to pound her more fiercely again, and as if on command, she came as she tossed and squirmed under him.
Energetic one, isn’t she? Duada mused silently. He licked his lips, letting his own pleasure start to climb higher and higher. He kept his machine-like rhythm until the tension became greater than he could control. The ferocity of his movements sent the poor woman spiraling into more climaxes as he drove himself forward.
Tossing his long hair back, he pulled himself out of her and pumped himself with his hand as he ejaculated, spilling his come on her bare breasts.
Duada never planted his seed in his partners’ wombs.
No female creature was worthy enough in his eyes. He dallied constantly since he reached his majority some three centuries back, filling his bed with a different female companion night after night and yet, he hadn’t met that special someone who satisfied him emotionally.
Love? He wanted to laugh. Love was some silly word humans invented.
Duada Ashvyrvalan Sidherhain didn’t love.
He did “fond.”
Though lately, he found it becoming harder and harder to harbor that special fondness for someone. His cousin Aodhe said it was the curse of immortality. Staying young and beautiful, with immense power at their disposal, made royal fae like him prone to boredom.
In order to fight boredom, the fae indulged in excesses.
Duada breathed heavily as his orgasm waned gradually. He rolled off of her, slowing his breath as he slipped off the bed, grabbing a cloth and tossing it to the noblewoman.
“Hmm, my prince,” she whispered as she took her time in cleaning off her chest, “that was… amazing. I don’t know why we didn’t do this sooner.”
Prince Duada of the Summerland Court smiled affably as he climbed back into his trousers and shrugged on his bed robe. He tied it around his waist and ran a hand through his dark locks. He eyed his latest conquest with a smile on his face.
The noblewoman on the bed was lovely indeed, an ambassador from some neighboring minor fae court trying to suck up to his aunt, the Faery Queen, who ruled half the continents. As such, Prince Duada felt it his noble duty to make certain accommodations for their female guest while she waited on an audience with the Queen.
“Just one of the many pleasures we have to offer here in the capital, my sweet,” his voice lilted in response. “I wish your visit to Summerland to be memorable.”
“Memorable indeed.” She laughed coquettishly. “I might have to request an extension for my duties here,” she said as she stretched in one languorous sweep.
Duada gave a light chuckle as he made his way across the room, his walk a lazy saunter bred only from a life of ease and authority he exercised through his status.
“I think the powers-that-be might just be amenable to that,” he half-lied as he headed for the door. In truth, he had no direct authority over that kind of thing, but he’d come this far leading the lovely lady along, and he didn’t mind doing so a bit longer until the Queen dismissed her.
It was a guilty pleasure of his; giving into the lustful pursuits he could afford himself while idling about the court. In fact, he didn’t have any kind of personal attachment to the woman he’d just had fun with—and he knew that the feeling was mutual. To her, he was just a means to her ends, and to him, she was just a bit of fun. Such gallivanting was a deadly game for the lower-ranking courtiers, but as a prince, who could tell Duada to behave himself?
His answer came in the form of a pounding at the door right as he reached it, startling him. There was a silence after the knocking, and Duada cast a perplexed glance back at the noblewoman, who bunched the sheets up over her naked body, looking just as confused. The prince nodded to the door with a questioning expression, but she just shrugged her shoulders, bewildered.
“Prince Duada, are you decent?” boomed the voice from the other side of the door.
After a moment, Duada raised his eyebrows and glanced back at the noblewoman. “Ah, see? Not to worry, it isn’t for you.”
Despite a yelp from her as s
he threw the silk covers over her body, Duada swung the large, beautiful door open, letting out the scents of expensive incense and lovemaking as he made eye contact with two of the Queen’s elite guards standing in the doorway. The fae guards looked unamused.
“Are you lost?” he asked, leaning in the doorframe. “My chambers are two floors up, third door on the right. I’m sure you’ll find me there.”
“Your Highness,” said the one on the left, his golden armor gleaming in the sunlight that spilled in from the windows in the hallway behind him. “Her Majesty has requested your presence in the court, post haste.”
“Now?”
“Her Majesty insists the timing is of most importance, Your Highness.”
The guards stepped back, expectant looks in their eyes as they waited for him to follow, but Duada held up his hands as he stepped out, making his way in the opposite direction down the hallway. “Come now, do you really think she wants to see me like this?” he said, gesturing to his person. He very obviously looked like a man post-coitus, half-dressed with hair mussed to all ends.
“Her majesty instructed—”
“Believe me, I’m just as eager to see my dear aunt as she is to see me, but I assume you’ve seen how she dresses in court? I can’t present myself like this. And could you imagine what the repercussions would be if you dragged me like this into her court?” He wiggled his eyebrows with a grim expression, suggesting the consequences could, indeed, be dire.
The guards exchanged glances before Duada continued with a sigh. “By all means, escort me to my chambers and wait for me to change, then I’ll come with you.”
A short while later, convinced yet reluctant, the guards stopped at the entrance to Duada’s personal chambers. The faerie prince waved to the two guards as he stepped into his quarters, breathing in the fragrant air as he stripped himself of the clothes he’d been sauntering around in.
Summerland, and the Summerland Court, was truly paradise. His room was a prime example of the decadent wealth the fae reveled in on a regular basis, columns of ivory lining the golden-hued stone that made up the ancient walls, ivy running along the tops where they met the ceiling like natural molding. His rich, purple bed sheets and massive bed put to shame the comparatively humble quarters the ambassador was situated in, each of them bearing fine gold thread woven into the seams.
He strode into his colossal walk-in closet and took his time in selecting an outfit. He thumbed through the various articles of clothing, from deep and vibrant red silken shirts to flowing black robes, all of them absurdly soft to the touch and made to be comfortable enough as to be unnoticeable to the wearer. He had always believed that he ought to shape his body to match the majesty of the luxuries around him.
His aunt would just tell him he’s being an ass, but he didn’t let that stop him.
Duada’s dawdling was wholly intentional.
He spent a large amount of time picking out just the right shirt, the trousers, the belt, even a small shoulder cape he debated over for a few minutes before tossing it on, trying to look like he put effort, but not too much effort, into the way he looked. His new shirt still left almost as much of his chest visible as the haphazard robe had, and he rather liked it that way. It was nearly an hour later that he re-opened the doors to find the two guards, now decidedly irate, standing there.
“Oh, were you waiting on me?” he feigned surprise. “Where are my manners? I should have let you in. Come, let’s not keep the Queen waiting.”
Their footsteps echoed in the long halls as they made their way to the court, Duada swaggering in front of the guards as if they were his personal bodyguards. The guards didn’t approve, Duada knew it, but he didn’t pay them much mind. Although he was loath to admit it, the Queen was probably the only person in the palace who could pull rank on him, and the guards knew that though he was insolent, he wasn’t so insolent as to cross the Queen.
Otherwise, he might not enjoy his cushy position as long as he’d like.
The three rounded the corner into the throne room, where the majesty that was the Queen of the Summerland Court sat upon a high, crystalline throne in a sparkling green dress that would put any human princess to shame. Diamonds lined its hem, and its frills stuck out at least a foot from her shoulders, wafting in the breeze that flowed in through the windows high above the floors. Her hair spilled over her shoulder, and her amethyst eyes, that matched Duada’s, locked with his the moment he entered the throne room, their glint contrasting with the golden tiara inlaid with topaz resting on her head.
“My dear nephew,” she said as Duada moved past the assembled courtiers. There was a range of fae in the court from all ranks, from diplomats like the ambassador whose company he’d just enjoyed, to lowly attendants bearing platters of fine drinks for all who desired them. There were fewer people than usual at court today, which gave Duada a sickly feeling in the pit of his stomach; that usually meant the Queen was about to share bad news. The Summerland Queen carried her court as elegantly and lavishly as she did everything else, and airing out dirty laundry in public was not something she was fond of.
“Your majesty,” he replied, bowing respectfully, feeling the eyes of the other courtiers on him. That was a common enough feeling, given his reputation, but there was something he didn’t like about the attention today. “How may I be of service to Your Radiance today, dear Aunt?”
“Spare me the pleasantries, Nephew,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. Despite her bright and vibrant attire, her expression was aloof—more so than usual with Duada. “I summoned you here precisely because of your idea of ‘pleasantries.’”
Duada knew damn well where this conversation was going, which was why he was going to waffle as long as he possibly could. “I do apologize for my tardiness in responding to your summons. But I must say, though your luminosity outshines my own on the best of days, I wished to make myself presentable to-”
“You may dispense of your efforts to change the subject as well,” she cut him off, and he let his shoulders slump, not used to his games being nipped in the bud so early. “This has become a rather serious matter, Duada. I have received word from the duchess who visited our court last month,” she said, standing up and taking slow steps down the stairs of her throne.
Duada smiled, remembering the good duchess fondly. “I remember her, yes. Will she be visiting us again? Am I to organize some kind of welcoming feast?”
“On the contrary, her letter made it sound like you did most of the ‘feasting’ while she was here,” she said pointedly, reaching Duada’s level and looking at him sternly. Duada raised his eyes to the ceiling with an innocent smile as the Queen passed by. “From the sound of it, you feasted rather sumptuously with her, as well as five of her handmaidens, her personal cook, and the captain of her guard.”
There were a few whispers around the court as Duada folded his hands behind his back, and a few of the female courtiers blushed.
“All perfectly pleasant women to entertain, dear Aunt,” he said with a smile. He didn’t even remember fucking the cook, but there were a lot of things he didn’t remember about that particular night.
“Ordinarily, dear Duada,” she continued, striding up and down the court slowly, looking as ethereal and elegant as the aurora borealis, “I turn a blind eye to your dallying. You are a member of my highest ranking circle of relatives, and I appreciate your diplomatic talents.”
Duada was genuinely surprised at the compliment, and he offered a sincere smile. “I never knew you took my work to heart, your Majesty.”
“You know well that I pay close attention to all of the goings on in my court, Duada,” she said, rolling her eyes, “and in your case, I must sometimes pay closer attention than I’d like. What I’ve found has been causing a great deal of trouble.”
“Trouble?” Duada asked, tilting his head to the side and pursing his lips.
“Your little affairs have complicated tenuous diplomatic relations I’ve been cultivating for cent
uries, Nephew,” she said. “The duchess isn’t the first instance of this kind of behavior. Don’t fool yourself into believing that I don’t know about your visit to the Diamond Enclave, from which I still receive missives requesting your return. And that debacle with the Contessa and her sisters who still won’t speak to each other because of your unbridled tomfoolery.”
Duada was ruffled now, his arms crossed. Such a show of insolence would be harshly punished coming from anyone but a Prince of the court, and even at his status, Duada’s roll of his eyes was putting him on thin ice, based on the daggers the Queen was now shooting him.
“As such,” she continued, folding her hands in front of her with a suddenly smug look that Duada liked even less than his public humiliation, “I cannot ignore your misbehavior any longer. I must take action. But let no one in the Summerland Court say that their Queen is unjust,” she added rather loudly, casting an icy glare over the entire court.
Duada made eye contact with a few of the courtiers, silently seething and wondering which one was the straw that broke the camel’s back. This was, no doubt, some kind of ploy to force the Queen’s hand against him. He sighed. Not even his looks could grant him immunity to the politics of the court, it seemed.
“Shall I receive forty lashes for my terrible crimes of… what are my crimes, precisely?” he asked, tilting his head and arching a triumphant brow.
“You have broken no sanctioned law,” she admitted with a cool smile that chilled Duada to the bone, “which is why you shall receive no sanctioned punishment for what you have done. However, I am sending you away from the court,” she declared, and Duada’s heart dropped, along with his jaw.
“Are… are you banishing me?”
“Don’t look at it as banishment, dear Nephew,” she said with a smile, meaning that yes, she damn well did mean ‘banishment.’ “On the contrary, you are perfectly able to return to the court, rather soon. You only need to complete a small task I have arranged, a task quite perfectly suited to someone of your… particular talents.”
Duada watched her circle him like a shark, and he ran his fingers through his dark, thick hair, his amethyst eyes locking with hers. “Is that so? It sounds like you’re sending me on a mission to do precisely what you’re kicking me out for doing.”
Faery Godlover: BBW Paranormal Romance Page 1