Faery Godlover: BBW Paranormal Romance

by Lizzie Lynn Lee

  “You as well, yes, and you’re welcome,” he said as he hurried her down the steps, and she gave him a flat look as he glanced over his shoulder with a boyish grin. “Oh, forgive me, are those kinds of pleasantries a human thing?”

  “You’re the actual worst.”

  He simply laughed. “And yet you’re agreeing to our little date.”

  “Please. You’re practically abducting me.”

  “Come now, how do you know you won’t enjoy this little abduction?”

  She blushed. They went outside. She followed him down the sidewalk with a smirk, off to whatever the faery had in mind for the night, wondering if it was worth the time to ask where that was, exactly.

  *

  “Closed?” Duada pronounced the word on the sign that hung over the entrance to the city botanical garden. “Why… I don’t understand, what does this mean?”

  Jasmine pursed her lips, savoring Duada’s genuine confusion for a moment. “It means it’s closed. It’s kind of late for gardens, they close pretty early as it is.” She kicked the ground a bit. “I uh, appreciate the thought, though!”

  “What!” the prince exclaimed, looking plaintive at the news. “Why? Do the plants need rest after a long day’s work? No, no, this won’t do,” he said, shaking his head and stepping up to the gate.

  “What are you,” Jasmine started, but her eyes widened as he waved a hand and there was a light click at the door as it sprang open. “Duada! You can’t do that!”

  He looked over his shoulder with a bemused expression. “Clearly, I can. Garden security is miserable, we could make off with all these flowers, if we so wished.” He winked before disappearing behind the gate, and Jasmine hurried after him with a huff.

  “Okay, so I’ll admit,” she said as the gravel crunched beneath their feet while they walked through the garden, the moonlight casting a silvery glow over the trees, bushes, and ferns that grew in the carefully manicured conservatory, “I had a few ideas in mind for what a date with a faery prince might be like, but breaking into a garden like a couple of teenagers wasn’t high on the list.”

  “I’m full of surprises, Jasmine,” he said as he came to a stop in a central part of the garden. It was a rounded walking area with white stone benches situated around a large fountain that was still running, the sounds of water accentuating the foliage around them. “But that isn’t why I brought you here.”

  She raised an eyebrow, following him to the edge of the fountain, where he crossed his arms and surveyed the area around him thoughtfully. “O…kay. So why the gardens, then?”

  He gave her a smile with a glint in his eye that told her he was waiting for that question. “For a proper canvas.”

  Duada’s flick of the wrist seemed almost imperceptible, but what took place around Jasmine was like descending into a vivid dream. All around her, as if her earthly vision were peeling away, the dark greens and browns of the earthy city gardens seemed to melt away into an explosion of color. To her vision, the sky above them was a dark violet, stars twinkling lazily around nebulas. The leaves of the trees turned bright silver, their berries shades of vivid magenta, fuchsia, and teal. The wood of their stems and trunks seemed to swirl into ancient whorls that bore the same kind of striking, ethereal beauty that Prince Duada exhibited, and as her eyes surveyed the whole scene around them, they fell on the prince himself, and his amethyst eyes shone like the stars behind them as the now marble fountain behind him spilled crystal-clear waters.

  “What did you do?” Jasmine breathed, putting a hand to her chest, her heart fluttering. Despite all that was changing around her, Duada remained just as she’d seen him when he stepped into her door.

  “It’s a glamour,” he said, looking at his handiwork. “I know your state is renowned for its gardens, but I wanted to show you what the gardens of the Summerland Court are like. What my home is like.” There was a touch of sincerity to his voice that Jasmine had thought Duada incapable of, and she blinked before finding her wits, giving a faint smile as she stepped forward.

  “Glamour, huh?” she said. “I thought you said you wanted to give me something authentic.”

  Duada smiled, and Jasmine cursed silently as she realized he’d been waiting for that question, too. He always seemed a step ahead like that. “What you see, Jasmine, is everything that I know to be real,” he explained. “The trees, the ever-twilight skies, the leaves, the fruits…” he slipped her hands into his, his piercing gaze growing somehow softer, “and me. Jasmine, I show you all this to ask you, frankly, no tricks and no strings attached—how would you like to be a part of all this?” He paused before proceeding. “To share in this with me?”

  A rush of emotion surged within her as she looked up at him, her heart pounding as color rushed to her face, the soft skin of her hands being brushed by his, that charming face enticing her by its own natural magnetism. She started to open her mouth to respond, but Duada cut her off.

  “Don’t answer yet.”

  With that, the prince closed the distance between them and pressed his lips onto hers, and Jasmine let out a soft moan as she melted into the kiss. She parted her lips, allowing his tongue to delve into her mouth as she reveled in his airy yet masculine fragrance, the warmth of his body, the strength of his grip—she only just then realized he was holding her, and she let herself relax in his embrace. Having his arms around her was thrilling and even a little frightening, being surrounded and held submissive to such power. But at the same time, she knew she was safer in his arms than anywhere else in the world.

  This was a prince. A faery prince. A being with the power to change the appearance of the things around him on a whim, a man with sway in a world so alien, yet so rich and vibrant. But it was so much more than that. There was no dishonesty in his touch, in the way he held her strongly yet lovingly. He desired her.

  Jasmine pressed her hips against his and she felt his hard erection that sent a shiver up her back. He was clearly well endowed, but not like Hayden. A curiosity blossomed in the back of her mind. She wondered why Hayden’s size had freaked her out in the first place. Had Duada somewhat cast glamour on Hayden at that time simply because he had a wicked sense of humor and wanted to see her date fail? Her train of thought was obliterated when Duada possessively wrapped his arms around her waist. Whatever he did, she couldn’t stay mad at him. If she was to be honest with her feelings, she liked this gorgeous bastard a little too much. Duada nuzzled her neck and she shivered in delight. A gasp curled out of her throat with sheer anticipation.

  He was a prince, and he was going to claim her.

  The realization sent ripples of heat that made her heady as she felt his hand move up to undo her blouse. It fell to the side. As he reached behind her to unhook her bra, she leaned in to whisper into his ear, “So after setting me up so much, how does it feel to get your hands on me yourself?”

  The bra fell to the side, and Duada gripped her ample hips, his hungry eyes drinking her in, looking downright predatory. “Woman,” he hissed through his teeth, “you’re fanning a dangerous fire.”

  Before she could respond, he descended on her breasts, his tongue brushing up against her quickly stiffening nipple, and she let out a gasp as he guided her to sit on the fountain’s edge. Heartbeats quickened. Lust surged at a fever pitch. It wasn’t long before he was working at her skirt, but Jasmine wasn’t going to let him get away with that without getting something for herself. She tore at the front of his shirt with her fingers. He moved his shoulders, letting the fabric slide away.

  Every bit of him could be defined like a marble statue—flawless. Feeling greedy, she wasted no time in running her hands all over him, relishing in the feeling of those sculpted muscles under her fingers. She could feel the pure, supernatural strength rippling through every fiber of his being. She trembled ever so slightly, wondering just how much he was capable of. Just what he could do to her.

  Her skirt came off as she kicked her shoes away, and her panties came next. Jasmine couldn’
t remember the last time she gave herself up to anyone, to anything, so openly and willingly. After being alone for so long and keeping her emotional and physical needs under strict lock and key, it was fully liberating to finally just let go. Especially knowing that she had someone strong and capable enough to catch her when she did.

  Duada kneeled down between her legs and breathed her in, his fingertips digging into the soft flesh of her thighs. Jasmine held her breath, watching him intently, waiting for him to make his next move. She was too afraid that this was a dream. That at any moment this magical, impossible scene would all disappear and she’d be left all alone again with nothing but a collection of bizarre, brightly tinted memories to sustain her.

  But the prince didn’t disappear this time.

  The fairy tale didn’t end.

  She let out a sharp gasp as his tongue ran up her pussy, his warm breath spilling over her nether lips as he tasted her long and deep. His tongue moved all the way up to her clit, where it lingered for one more teasing moment before withdrawing.

  “You taste even better than I ever imagined, Jasmine,” he said in a husky voice. “I could never get enough of you.”

  She whimpered as the sinful sensation rippled up through her. “Duada…” she mumbled some unintelligible words as she threaded her fingers through his lush, silky hair. “Please… take me.”

  He closed his eyes with a smile as though she’d just played a lovely note on the harp for him. “My dear,” he said, “do you know just how long I’ve waited to hear those words spill out of your lips?”

  “I think there’s more you’d like to have spilling out of my lips,” she said cockily. His grip tightened on her thighs before he ravished her with his tongue again.

  The strokes started coming hard and fast, as if he meant to extract everything desired from her in those motions. He was insatiable, and every lick and nip and bite made Jasmine’s back arch up into him, pressing herself into his mouth as much as she could bear to endure his delicious torment.

  The dexterity of his tongue was unimaginable. It seemed like he was in two places at once, the tip of his tongue darting up against her clit and sending shockwaves up her body.

  She hadn’t realized how tense she was. She was pent up. She was nervous. This felt so otherworldly, yet it was so familiar, so right. God, how she needed him, she realized. She was coming so close to feeling the fullness of her pleasure, but she needed something more—she wanted it to be special. “Duada,” she whispered urgently as he tormented her poor clit, knotting up the muscles inside her with the merciless flickering of his tongue. “Duada, I-”

  “I do love how my name sounds on your lips, darling,” he said, his voice a purr that nearly made her spill over the edge.

  “Duada,” she half-laughed, but his grip on her thighs was too strong to resist. “I want you inside me!”

  She thought he was going to torment her more, but the prince stood up, obliging her wish. He removed his pants with fluid motion. Jasmine watched in awe at the sight of his cock. It, like the rest of his skin, was a beautiful golden tan with its dark crown bulging with need.

  And no, he didn’t scare her.

  She almost laughed if it weren’t for her ache for him. Silently, she cursed her traitorous body for giving into such lusts. But God, she couldn’t resist him. He might be capricious and impish, but he was the one man she really wanted.

  “Jasmine,” he said, his voice husky as he leaned over her, and she gasped as his crown touched the surface of her pussy, its girth taunting her. “I want to show you how I could let you live.”

  Jasmine let out a sharp cry as his cock penetrated her to the hilt, sheathing that hot, slick, throbbing flesh deep inside of her and filling her with a warmth that was unlike anything she’d ever felt in her life. Instinctively, she tightened her muscles around his shaft.

  The sensation was too good for words.

  She closed her eyes, her heart dancing a tribal beat, skin flushing, almost feverish as their bodies became one. She hid her face in the crook of his neck, the lingering scent of his cologne drifted to her nose, giving her unimaginable comfort. She could feel his heartbeat pound as fast as hers was, and could hear the deep rumble in his chest and a groan escaped his masculine throat.

  “Jasmine,” he whispered, voice was rough, dripping with lust. “You feel so goddamn good.”

  She opened her eyes to meet the hauntingly gorgeous amethyst gaze that seeming to give off their own light as he looked down on her. He slipped his hand on her back and he pulled her closer into him. Heart to heart. Skin to skin. “I’m not dreaming, am I? You’re real, right?”

  He laughed, a deep sound that reverberated through her whole frame. “Jasmine,” he murmured, “I’m the realest thing in this whole garden.”

  Duada gently eased her onto her back on the grass. The sweet smell of fresh cut grass and rich earth wafted into her nostrils. Dew glistened on the tip of the green grass blades, cooling her heated skin. But inside her, a fire continued blazing. Being intimate with Duada was different. He filled her so deep she felt him in places she didn’t think existed before. If he moved… just one stroke, she was sure, she was a goner.

  Her pussy clenched hard around his shaft. She creamed in excitement, making her slicker and wetter. “Duada…”

  He straddled her, adjusting his position.

  The friction caused new fire to burst. The wanton aches intensified. Having him like this as if the whole purpose of existence was to be with him. “Duada, take me…”

  “Hmm? I didn’t hear the magic word?” he teased.

  “Please?”

  “That’s not the magic word.”

  Jasmine swallowed hard. What was the magic word for mischievous being like him? Sometimes fae could be quite literal. “Fuck me, Duada. Fuck me hard.”

  He gave her an indulgent smile. “Just what I have in mind.” He grabbed her hips and plunged down until his cock sheathed completely.

  And just like that, an orgasm hit her hard.

  She cried out and threw her head back, baring her throat to him. Duada grunted hard at the sign of her submission. He seized a handful of her hair in his fist as he fucked her with a series of battering thrusts. A different shade of pleasure burst out. She gasped. This was too fucking good, it left her speechless. New fire, hot and pure, seared her nerve endings with manic need. He wasn’t just delivering what she wanted, but he also possessed her entire body and soul, branding her with his lust.

  He pounded her harder and faster and deeper until she thought she would faint from too much pleasure. Together, they rode toward the ultimate completion.

  “More…” she begged, her voice was raw.

  She dug her nails into his flesh. “More…” The pleasure quickly gathered to promise the storm of the century. Her body tensed, getting closer. “Duada!”

  The second climax tore through her. It was so powerful it bordered on agony. She thought she’d died for a moment and had been resurrected in the wickedest, most wanton way. She floated through red-hot ecstasy as Duada slammed his cock into her three more times and then came with a grunt.

  He jerked as he emptied his seed into her.

  Their bodies were slicked with perspiration and the smell of sex, grass and flowers hung thickly around them. The glorying moment consumed her whole. Her pussy fluttered around his shaft, milking him to the last drop. Duada disengaged from her and crashed to the grass next to her.

  He found her hand and gripped it hard as they basked in the afterglow.

  Then, there was nothing but the sound of their breathing together there in the moonlight, and as Jasmine opened her eyes again, she saw that the glamour around them—the silver trees and violet skies—had all faded. Everything was mundane again. Everything but Duada, his face serene as his chest rose and fell, breathing heavily.

  Their gazes clashed.

  “Won’t you be mine?” he asked, “I want to take you home with me and make you my princess.”

 
; “Me? Princess?” Jasmine laughed. “That sounds like a fairytale.”

  “Do you forget who I am?” Duada stroked her cheek. “I want to take you on adventures. There are beautiful places to visit. Grand parties to attend.” He played with a strand of her hair and curled it around his finger. “We’ll have many more dates. There are so many things I want to show you.”

  Jasmine studied him. Duada looked and sounded sincere. “Adventure. I like the sound of that.”

  Duada kissed her passionately.

  “Has this ever worked before? A relationship between a fae and human?”

  “It is known that some fae take a human spouse. The Halfling is usually fostered in faeland.”

  “But you people are immortal, is it right? Would you still like me when I’m old and saggy?”

  Duada laughed. “My dear, you forget who am I. My magic will keep you young forever. No sickness. No old age if that is what you wish.”

  “Oh. But what about your Queen? Is she going to be okay with you taking a human lover?”

  “Bride. Wife. My Princess,” Duada corrected. He stroked her hair lovingly. “My aunt is wiser than everyone gave her credit for. Perhaps this was her will when she gave me this task. I can’t wait to bring you home with me. We’re going to send the Court of Summerland in a tizzy.”

  Jasmine sighed dreamily. “Just like a fairytale.”

  The End

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  About the Author:

  Lizzie Lynn Lee is a gutter-minded hopeless romantic who doesn’t live in this world most of the time. In her perfect utopia, her heroes never take their women for granted, love at first sight exists and soul mates always find a way to be together. She invites you to visit her world, where she spins her tales because the men are sizzling hot, master the art of sex and they are really into their ladies—be that a slim girl, or curvy, interracial, interspecies, sassy or shy—their adventures redefine erotica. Are you ready to be thrilled?