Tempted By Fae

by Midnight Coven

  “Arnarra,” he growled. His control snapped. He crushed his lips to hers, giving in to her.

  Arnarra threw her arms around him and hung on while he pillaged her mouth with his tongue. Hers was bold in meeting his. He wouldn’t expect anything else from the headstrong royal. Arnarra was unlike any other woman he’d met. She didn’t back down from a fight and met her adversaries head-on.

  He wasn’t surprised that she was the same way when it came to a kiss.

  She unhooked his cape, the hefty material sinking to the floor. Her hands landed on his belt. She undid the buckle, allowing his sword to fall. They ignored the clatter of metal. He reached down and snagged her shirt with his fingers. He pulled, ripping the soft fabric from her body.

  He tore his mouth from hers, his gaze landing on her breasts encased in black lace.

  Goddess above, she is perfect.

  “Princess,” he groaned.

  “You call me that one more time, and I will use your own sword on you,” she growled. She leaned forward and undid the button to his leather pants. “My name. Say it.”

  “Arnarra.” This time her name flowed from his mouth with ease.

  Her lips curled up in the corners.

  With a groan, Voron hoisted her up into his arms, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. She sprinkled his face and neck with hot, wet kisses while he stalked across the room. Arnarra’s body felt terrific. He would no longer think with his head. At the moment, his heart and his cock were in charge. He stopped by the bed and paused. She slid down the length of him, slowly torturing him. Voron experienced her every curve and held back a groan. His cock pressed harder against his leather pants, demanding to be released from its prison.

  He leaned down and retook her lips in a bruising kiss, needing to have another taste of her. The kiss grew deeper while Voron trailed his hands along Arnarra’s torso. He gripped her trousers and pushed them down. Together, they made quick work of ridding themselves of their clothing before falling onto the bed together in a tangle of arms and legs.

  Voron growled, rolling them over until he was braced over Arnarra.

  He had to gain some type of control. He stared down into Arnarra’s eyes and breathed deeply.

  “Arnarra, are you sure?” he asked. He didn’t deserve the gift she was about to bestow upon him.

  She reached up and cupped his face. He briefly shut his eyes and leaned into her touch. Never in a million years would he have actually thought he would have a chance with her. If only for one night, he would cherish this. His world had been filled with pain, war, and survival. Men like him weren’t meant to have something to love or adore.

  He was a protector.

  A warrior.

  Staring down into Arnarra’s eyes, he realized the one thing he had denied for years.

  He loved her.

  Pain spread throughout his chest. He didn’t know what was going to happen when they returned to Faery, but he would cherish today. He would accept her gift and hold on to the memories they created together.

  “More certain than anything,” she breathed.

  She guided Voron’s head down to hers. Before he could connect with her mouth, she pushed with all of her might. They rolled again with her landing on top of him.

  She let loose a laugh, and Voron didn’t resist. The sight of joy on her face and her wide grin would be etched in his mind forever.

  Arnarra Maglynn could do as she chose.

  “This is better.” She giggled.

  Voron leaned back against the mattress and allowed her to explore his body. She trailed hungry kisses down his neck and down his chest. Her hand trailed along his skin, lighting a fire in his loins. His body was hers to do with as she chose.

  “You’re like chiseled stone.”

  Her heated gaze met his. Pride filled him. His body was his weapon, a machine, and he had taken care of it. A warrior had to be in the best shape possible to fulfill his duties.

  He didn’t know what to do in return but stare at her. This beautiful woman was worshiping his body and didn’t bat an eye at his scars. He was riddled with them. She pressed a kiss along each and every one of them.

  She slid down farther, arriving eye level with his cock. She wrapped her hands around him, eliciting a moan deep from the back of his throat. She slowly stroked his hard length.

  “I love the feel of you,” she whispered. She increased her pace slightly while placing her other hand on Voron’s lower abdomen. “Your power, Voron. It’s intoxicating.”

  He didn’t know what she was talking about. All he knew was that the feeling of her her palm around his cock was sending an electric current through him.

  “Arnarra, you are perfect,” he hissed through clenched teeth. He’d never had a woman take the time to ensure he felt something. Her kisses, her touch…made him feel.

  Arnarra was the perfect fae woman any male could ask for. She was everything he would want in a mate. Headstrong, a fierce fighter, a protector, and beautiful.

  “As are you, Voron.” She crawled up his body and braced herself over him. Arnarra gripped his cock, nestling it between her slick folds.

  Voron bit back a shout once she started to impale herself on him. The air rushed out of him when she was entirely settled on him.

  No words came to mind that could describe what he felt. Her warm sheath housed him, wrapping around him, and he realized what it must feel like to be in Heaven.

  He was...home.

  “Arnarra,” he groaned.

  “Just feel me, Voron.” She moved her body up before sliding back down on him with a moan escaping her lips. “Goddess above, you feel so good inside me.”

  Voron couldn’t take his eyes off Arnarra. Her dark skin appeared to glow. Her chocolate nipples were beaded into little buds, and her hips flared out, giving him the perfect place to rest his hands and guide her. She threw her head back as she rode him.

  He gripped her hips tightly in his hands, driving her up and down on his length.

  Her head rolled forward. Her hair cascaded around her shoulders. She leaned down and rested her hands on the pillows above his head. Her eyes opened and locked with his.

  Voron’s breaths were coming faster. Arnarra crushed her lips to his. He thrust his hips up, sending him farther into her slick channel. Their movements became frantic and wild.

  “Yes,” Arnarra cried out, tearing her lips from his.

  Voron whipped them over, with him landing on top. He raised himself and pushed her legs back to allow him to thrust forward. Instinctively, he allowed himself to let go, pounding away inside Arnarra.

  A growl was ripped from him.

  Arnarra’s body fit him perfectly.

  She writhed on the bed while he pushed them both to the limit.

  The familiar signs of his release rushed toward him. He slid a hand down and found Arnarra’s nub buried between her folds.

  “Voron,” she moaned while he rubbed her clit.

  “Come for me, Arnarra. Now,” he growled.

  Her body arched from the bed with a scream spilling from her lips. His own pleasure slammed into him. A roar bellowed from him as he filled her with his release.

  Voron’s body trembled uncontrollably.

  An immense emotional wave raced through Voron. It was powerful and unlike anything he’d ever felt before.

  They were connected.

  “Arnarra.”

  He had been hesitant before in saying her name. Now it would be sacred to him, just like the memory of their lovemaking. No matter what happened in the future, he would cherish this day forever.

  Chapter Five

  Arnarra breathed in the scent she’d grown to know. A smile formed as she stretched. A large hand clamped down on her hip, holding her in place against a warm, hard body.

  Voron.

  Finally.

  The culmination of their attraction had completely exploded. The decision to whisk them away in order to force him to acknowledge the growing sexual tension b
etween them was a sound one.

  And it was worth it.

  Desperate times called for drastic measures.

  Arnarra grinned. She was sure he felt the call of the magical pull. Their sexual romp had been mind-blowing.

  Voron tugged her back against his chest. He nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck. She basked in the feel of being wrapped up in his arms. He pressed a kiss to her before rolling away.

  A sigh slid from her.

  “You are thinking entirely too loudly, General,” she murmured. Arnarra turned over to find Voron sitting on the side of the bed with his head in his hands. His long dark locks hid his face from her.

  “There is much to think about,” he replied.

  The hitch in his voice concerned her. She sat up from where she lay and crawled to him. She brushed his hair from his face and tried to catch his gaze.

  Shit.

  She knew the look. Voron was as stubborn as they came. The set of his shoulders and the firm line of his jaw tightened.

  Just when she thought they’d had a breakthrough, he had to go and ruin it by thinking.

  “What is there to think about? We enjoyed each other’s company.” She shrugged, trying to appear calm and collected. Arnarra wouldn’t dare let on that his shutting down affected her. She may project herself as fierce and sassy, but internally, her feelings were hurt.

  How could he just shut himself off from her so quickly?

  Voron pushed off the bed and bent down to swipe his pants from the floor. Arnarra didn’t hide the fact that she eyed his ass. It was a nice firm one. Voron’s body was one that deserved to be worshipped. His taut, muscular ass flexed as he pulled his pants up.

  He turned toward her with a scowl. “We have been gone for far too long. We need to get back and plan our defenses.”

  Arnarra held back an eye roll. He was in full general mode. After hours of mind-numbing sex, he was now focusing on the dark fae.

  “We haven’t been gone long.” She slid to the edge of the bed, taking the sheet with her. She wrapped it around her like a toga and stood.

  “Arnarra, we’ve been here for hours. It’s dark outside.” He pointed to the windows. He moved around the cabin, picking up his belt, sword, and cape.

  She wasn’t ready to go back to face reality, but it looked as if she had no choice. Her responsibility was waiting for her back in Faery, and she couldn’t ignore it.

  “What about us?” she asked quietly.

  Voron paused with his hand resting on his belt. A pained expression crossed his face before it disappeared.

  “How can there be an us when you admitted you have found the mate for you?” He rested his hands on his waist.

  Arnarra slowly made her way to him, unable to believe he hadn’t caught on yet. Was he purposely trying to push her away from him? She stopped in front of him and tilted her head back to meet his gaze.

  She would have to admit, fate had matched her with one bullheaded male.

  “Did you even listen to a word I said earlier?” she asked. She pressed closer to Voron. The heat radiating from his body was indicative of his power. She lifted a hand and rested it on his chest.

  “Believe me, Princess. I heard every word,” he breathed. His dark eyes locked on her. “We need to get back to the palace where I can do my job, and you can go after your mate.”

  She took notice of how he clenched his teeth at the word mate.

  He did feel something. Arnarra grinned. She couldn’t help but tease him a little.

  “Oh, General. What am I to do with you?”

  His gaze flicked toward the bed then returned to her. “I think we have done that enough. It is time to go, Princess. I am sure they are looking for us.”

  “You didn’t enjoy yourself here with me?” She pouted slightly, trailing her fingers along his pectoral muscle. His quick intake of breath was the only sound in the room.

  “You know I did,” he growled. His muscles tightened beneath her hand. “There is a war brewing, and we don’t have much time—”

  “We are in Sataria, Voron,” she announced. It was time she finally put him out of his misery. She had brought them to the parallel realm of Sataria. In this realm, the conception of time was much different than reality. An hour in Sataria was equivalent to five minutes in Faery.

  Voron’s eyes widened.

  She patted him on the chest before moving away from him.

  “Don’t worry, General. I wouldn’t want you to run yourself ragged. Back home, we haven’t been gone more than thirty to forty minutes.” She found her clothes, at least what was left of them. She closed her eyes and breathed in. When she opened them again, she was clad in a different outfit. It was a benefit of being fae. She could conjure clothing with her magic.

  “Whose cabin are we in?” he asked.

  “Mine. You think it is easy being royalty?” She turned to him with a smirk on her lips. She glanced around her cabin and blew out a deep breath. This was a place she was able to be alone and gather her thoughts. Voron was the first person not related to her to step foot inside this little oasis.

  She loved the climate here. It was so different than that of Faery. She and her sister came here quite often to escape. The snow and beauty of the landscape helped her relax. She loved playing in the cold ice flakes that fell from the sky.

  She could spend hours here unwinding, but only be gone minutes.

  It was her perfect retreat.

  “Let’s not compare upbringings, Princess.” He slowly shook his head. He held out a hand to her. “It’s time to go.”

  Arnarra walked to him and slid her hand into his. Their time together was drawing to an end. If he thought things with them were over, he had another think coming.

  “Just so you know,” she began.

  The air around them stirred. She moved closer to Voron until they were flush against each other. Voron tightened his hand around hers.

  “The male I was speaking of was you.”

  The cabin disappeared, and she flashed them back to Faery.

  “Arnarra.” Her name spilled from Voron’s lips. He blinked and found himself in the hallway leading to the dungeons. He spun around in an attempt to find Arnarra, but he was alone in the dark hall.

  She had dropped him off and vanished.

  Her words echoed in his head.

  The male I was speaking of was you.

  He was a fool. He had been too caught up in his emotions and the jealousy spreading throughout him that he hadn’t really listened to Arnarra.

  He would have to go after her.

  She’d known all this time they were mates?

  While he had tried to push down his feelings for her all these years, she’d known and probably bided her time. Apparently, she was ready for them to mate.

  He froze in place, torn. He had a job to do, and getting the vital information to protect Faery was more important than him or Arnarra.

  The sound of voices from around the corner caught Voron’s attention. He stalked down the hallway and paused. His men, Eldar and Rolim, stood outside an interrogation room, speaking quietly. They grew silent once they took notice of him.

  “General,” they greeted him. They stood taller as he strode to them.

  “Is Shelmir in there with a prisoner?” he barked. He didn’t want to let on he didn’t know what was going on. A good general was always a few steps ahead of his men. His eyes narrowed on them when they shared a glance.

  “Yes, sir. The princess said you were indisposed for the moment,” Eldar replied with a confused look.

  “Shelmir said the princess told him you were busy with something else,” Rolim said slowly.

  “The princess said what?” he roared. What in the seven hells was going on? He strode to the door and snatched it open. His strength meant it slammed against the wall. Inside, his gaze landed on Shelmir with the prisoner who was hanging upside down from the ceiling. The questioning had turned quite bloody. The floor was covered with a dark-red fluid
that dripped from the captive’s scarred skin.

  Shelmir’s head whipped toward Voron. “General.”

  “Any word?” Voron stepped into the room; the copper scent was overwhelming. He tightened his hands into fists. He would have loved to participate in the extraction of information. Still, by the looks of the room, Shelmir may have been successful.

  “A few tidbits. Phrases that don’t really make any sense.” Shelmir shrugged. He snagged a cloth from the table and wiped his hands. “Not sure if this one knew anything.”

  “We’ll go through them all,” Voron replied. He scowled, staring at the still form of the dark fae. From what he could see that was left of the male, he resembled a high-class warrior. Voron was only too familiar with the ones who were to guard the prize slave fighters.

  They were the cruelest, taunting and torturing the slaves for sport, but the prized fighters weren’t to be touched.

  Voron had been a witness to their cruelty, unable to defend the ones who were the guards’ targets.

  “With pleasure.” Shelmir chuckled. He tossed the filthy cloth back on the table on top of his tools. “He kept babbling nonsense. If this is their top warrior, then we won’t have—”

  “What was he saying?” Arnarra’s low voice asked from the corner of the room, startling them.

  Voron snapped his head toward her. His muscles were tensed, and he dropped down into a defensive stance with a growl. Shelmir, too, was ready for a fight.

  Arnarra slowly appeared from the shadows. Voron’s mouth grew dry at the sight of her emerging from the darkness. No longer was she dressed in the clothes she’d conjured when they were in Sataria.

  Arnarra wore her leather fighting outfit. The one that hugged her body and put all of her voluptuous curves on display. Her dark hair was flowing down her back, and her silver eyes practically glowed. Twin knives were sheathed at her hips. Those weapons were legendary, having been passed down to her from her mother.

  “Your Grace.” Shelmir fell to one knee with his head bowed low.

  Voron moved to bow to her, but her glare had him freezing in place. He didn’t know how long she’d been in the room.