Seduced by the Fae Page 10

  He rubs his big palm over the stinging skin of my butt, and my core shudders. I swear there's a direct connection between his touch and that secret core of me that aches for him. For his turgid flesh to sink into my melting pussy and fill me with his cum.

  He drags his thumb down to my clit and tweaks the bud. I moan and raise my head only to hurl it back down against his chest. Why doesn’t he just take me and put me out of this misery? Why is he torturing me?

  “Shh.”

  He thrusts his thumb inside my channel, and I all but come apart right then. He slips in a second finger and a third and…pumps his digits in and out of me, in and out…oh! Damn. My belly clenches. I dig my fingernails into his thick shoulder muscles. It’s too much, too little. Not enough. I lean back and sink down onto those fingers. His thick fingertips brush that sensitive part inside of me, and I groan. Moisture gushes out from between my legs.

  A quaking starts at my heels and works its way up. My back arches, my breasts shudder…damn, I am going to come. That’s when he pulls out his fingers. I cry out, raise my head and lock my gaze on his.

  He smirks. “Glad to see you are back to your feisty self, Red.”

  23

  Doc

  She bares her teeth and snarls at me. How cute. This little human shows me her true colors. I knew there was a feisty female underneath that shy virginal façade she’s been holding on to all along. I peel back my lips and snap at her, and she blinks, then her lips turn down in a pout. I want to lick those pink rosy lips, and bite down on her mouth. I want to eat her up, consume her whole. I want to absorb her into myself, merge my skin with hers. I want to break her, rut her, protect her...the fuck? “What am I going to do with you?”

  “You can feed me for one thing, you jerk.” Her stomach growls on cue.

  “So back to speaking now, are we?” I smirk.

  “Thought you wanted me to shut up and play the role of your willing slave.” She flutters her eyelashes and the skin above my chest throbs.

  Huh?

  How is it possible that I have a visceral reaction to something that’s so blatantly a feminine trick?

  She wrinkles her nose, and I can’t stop myself from bumping mine with hers. “You’re a handful, you know that?”

  She frowns. “You mean I am not what a virginal human is supposed to act like?”

  “I was going to say a submissive pet, but that, too.” My lips curve up, and I don’t stop myself. Okay, so I am going to seem smug and satisfied, but hey, I am allowed, right? At least for the next day. My throat closes.

  I rise to my feet so suddenly that she squeaks and grabs my shoulders for support.

  Water flows down and sloshes over the side of the tub, but I don’t care. I step over, still cradling her—fuck, but she’s tiny, yet such a handful and so right for me. She deserves a home, a family, warmth and laughter, none of which come naturally to me.

  Being a soldier of the Fae Corps is all I know. The heat that comes from taking on an opponent in a fight is the only time I have let myself feel. The adrenaline rush of a surgery well done when I save a life…is the only time I am allowed to feel alive.

  This gorgeous, sensuous woman in my arms? She brings out my protective nature, yet invokes the darkness inside of me.

  When I am with her I want to act out every depraved fantasy I have ever carried inside of me. I want to break her and find out what makes her tick; want to kiss her, seduce her, fuck her and consume her. I want to rip out every single barrier I have built around my heart and show her just what she means to me…and you corrupted her.

  It's what I do best. Mark everything that I encounter with my own brand of degradation.

  I reach behind her for one of the folded towels on the shelf. Grabbing it, I drape it around her.

  “Get dressed.”

  Her forehead creases in a frown, and she opens her mouth to speak. I shake my head, narrow my gaze. She bites down on her lower lip but doesn’t say anything. Thank fuck. If she had, I might have lost my battle with that part of me that insists that I throw her down and rut her all over again. The band of skin over my heart twitches again. I rub my chest, and her gaze drops to it.

  She reaches out to touch me, and I pull back.

  I lurch away from her and her confusion is so intense that I sense her discomfort coming off of her in waves. I almost turn then, to reassure her…almost.

  But if I do that there is no telling what is going to happen next.

  And you weren’t thinking of that when you were slapping her ass, or when you marked her throat?

  If I tear off the towel and turn her around, I’ll see that gorgeous reddened flesh of hers, feel her wince as I trace my fingers over those lashings. Fucker. Get out of there before you take hurting her to the next level…not counting the ways in which I have already changed her…taken her virginity, introduced her to my perverted world of kink, where there is no justification for my actions, except that I enjoy it.

  That I get off on it.

  That I want her to feel every inch of my flesh as she comes.

  The scent of her arousal seeps into the air, and I quicken my steps.

  “Doc, why are you angry?”

  The fuck if I know.

  I don’t turn. Walking to the open closet I grab a towel and dry off, then fling it aside. It hits the wall then plops to the floor. I am making a mess of the place, but whatever. No doubt the Fae Corps will be sending someone along to check up on us. They’d have tracked me in my crazy headlong rush to get to her, then here. Which means I have very little time left. Yeah, asshole, so you already reminded yourself.

  There’s a strangled sound from behind me.

  I turn to find her standing at the entrance to the bath still wrapped in the big towel, her dark hair in wet strands around her pale, heart-shaped face.

  Her pupils are dilated, her breathing harsh. Color floods her cheeks, and fuck, my dick twitches. My balls harden.

  Bending, I drag on a fresh pair of pants.

  Not bothering to towel my hair, I walk to the exit. “Get some clothes on before you catch a cold.”

  “Doc, wait.”

  Don’t turn around. Don’t stop. I pause at the doorway. “What's up?” I glare at her over my shoulder.

  “You’re acting like a bear with a sore head.”

  “Something is sore, and I promise you that it’s not my head, at least not this one.” I rap my knuckles against my forehead.

  She snickers. “Bet you are nowhere near as sore I am.”

  “If you are asking for sympathy, you’re not getting any here, considering you all but begged me to take your virginity.”

  “I did, and you know what…?”

  I straighten my spine.

  This is when she says that she regrets it, that she should have never asked me to fuck her, that I should have warned her just how brutal I was going to be with her…speaking of which, why hadn’t I? Had I meant to scare her away? Probably. Had I succeeded? Maybe. Only one way to find out. I turn around and glare at her.

  “What?” I wait for her to say it. Say it.

  “I don’t regret one second of it.”

  I stare, then a chuckle cracks out of me. “You should be scared of what else I can do to you. I thought I could rein myself in, but obviously my control is nowhere near as good as it should be.” My gaze drops to the broken skin on her neck.

  She raises her palm to touch the wound and winces. “Are we going to talk about this?”

  No.

  “I warned you about what it meant to give yourself up to me.”

  “You did.” She drops her arm and tucks it against her side, favoring it.

  Fuck this, I hurt her and in a way I hadn't planned for. What was I thinking about claiming her? I hadn't been thinking at all, not since I’d met her. I'd been too carried away in the heat of our coupling. I had told her she could trust me and I had betrayed her.

  I rake my fingers through my hair.

  I shouldn’t feel
sorry for her. I shouldn’t. I take pleasure in hurting, remember?

  I want my slaves to beg for release…but with her I need more. I need her for my mate. Need to tie her to me, hide her away forever, so no one else can come near her again. And that's so fucking wrong. She deserves a man who is capable of giving her the love, the tenderness she needs, which she's not getting from me.

  I initiated a fledgling mating bond, but there’s still time to break it.

  “This is all you are going to get from me, Red.”

  Her gaze widens. “You mean—” She gulps.

  Why does she have to look so stricken? She knew the score. She knew what she was getting into. Hell, I thought I knew what I was getting into.

  Just another Master-slave relationship, just a way to get off on my kink, to indulge my need for pain, that’s all it was. So why am I sure that my world just shifted? That nothing can be the same again? Why does my chest throb like my heart is breaking into many pieces… because I've decided to let her go?

  Because I tasted her sweet essence, buried myself in that hot, succulent pussy and felt complete fulfilment. I knotted her so deeply that it changed not only her, but also me? The thought of pumping her up once more with my cum, filling her up with the evidence of arousal and making her climax again and again, sends a surge of primal lust raging through my blood. Fuck.

  Her glance drops to my crotch, and she swallows. “Ah…you’re, you’re...”

  “Horny.”

  “So why not just make love to me again?”

  “I didn’t make love to you. I fucked you. I knotted you.”

  “You claimed me, Doc.” She wraps her hand around her throat, covering the evidence of the wound that gapes at her neck.

  Fucking hell, she is going to scar, and those won’t fade, for she isn’t Fae or a shifter. She’s human. It's clear for all to see that she belongs to me. Only to me.

  And I must let her go.

  My chest burns. I slap a palm to the skin above my heart and sway. I fucking sway. My legs weaken, my thighs spasm, and a searing weakness grips me. “The fuck?” I swear and grab hold of the doorframe for support.

  “What’s wrong?” I hear her voice as if from a distance.

  Guess I am not over whatever that bastard Boris hit me with, and the mating bond I initiated is reacting with the poison that still lingers in my system from the hit.

  I stagger against the door, curl my fingers into fists so my nails dig into my palms. Pain slices up my hands, and I use it to center myself. There’s a touch on my shoulder, the scent of jasmine that floats in the air. She is here, next to me. I swerve away from her, so her hand falls away. She stiffens. I’ve hurt her…again. But it’s for the best.

  “Stay where you are.”

  She obeys me, thank fuck.

  I take another step forward, and another. My chest aches once more, before the pain recedes to a dull throb. I straighten my spine and walk up the corridor. “Get dressed and come to the kitchen.”

  I stalk up the corridor on legs that are almost steady. If you don’t count the thick shaft that strains between them. My cock is not happy to be separated from her for even a second. I crack my neck.

  “You sure you’re okay, Doc?”

  Her voice is hesitant, and I sense her lingering in the doorway. “I won’t be if you make me wait any longer.”

  24

  Alice

  “Don’t make me wait, Red. Turn that way, Red. I want to whip your ass, Red.” Gah! Bossy is too tame a word to describe the man.

  He's a force of nature who blew into my life, ripped me out of every single innocent fantasy, and plunged me headlong into the kind of sinful experiences I hadn't ever thought could be real. The smarting skin of my backside confirms the truth.

  I blow out a breath as I examine the contents of the closet. There’s only men’s clothes. Of course! And all of them are in just one color. Black, light black, darker black, bluish black, oh, yeah, a pale, worn-out…you guessed it, black.

  I pull out a pair of boxers—okay, it might almost make do as shorts.

  He hadn’t worn any underwear, had he? Hmph. Guess he was worried about poking his way through the cloth when he extended. Ha! Did that happen to Fae males when they masturbated? Or did they only extend the way he had when he was inside me, knotting me? A trickle of liquid creeps down from my pussy, and I squeeze my thighs together.

  Not good, don’t think of that particular part of the Fae anatomy, but hell you could forgive a girl for being inquisitive, right?

  You wouldn’t begrudge me my curiosity on how he looks fully aroused, fully extended as he runs his big palm over his cock then cups his balls with his other hand, right before he grips my head and yanks me close and pushes his turgid shaft between my parted lips. Saliva pools in my mouth.

  He’d taste salty and musky and laced with that dark edge that is Nolan. Funny that only when I think of being in such an intimate situation with Doc do I think of him as Nolan. Perhaps it’s because I don’t know him at all. I am aware his perversions, and the taste of his cum, and how he can fill me up to the brim, and the sting of his palm as he whips my ass...I am intimate with the man in the carnal sense, and my instincts say that behind all that kink is a man who cares, perhaps too much.

  Beneath all that dominance is a sensitive soul who's been hurt, enough that he needs pain to feel again. Yeah, and I am the woman who’s going to redeem him, eh? That’s the classic mistake committed by females who are attracted to alpha-holes.

  We think we are the ones who can reform them, that by giving ourselves up to them, we’ll somehow soften them up enough to make them want to…commit?

  But he claimed me, right? Doesn’t that mean something? Holy hell, he claimed me. The breath wheezes out of me.

  The wound on the junction between my neck and shoulder burns on cue. What does that mean? That I am his mate? Can a human be a Fae…well, a half Fae, half dragon man’s mate? And…he came inside me. He pumped me up with his cum, so I could be pregnant?

  My legs weaken, and I grip the door of the closet for support. Okay, stop. Take a deep breath. And another. No use getting ahead of yourself. Obviously, everything that happened—the kidnapping, the almost being sold off, giving up my virginity to the man I wanted to…all of it is taking its toll. And on top of that, pun intended there, this discovery that I have a kinky side to myself, that I am turned on by Doc’s sadism…well, admit it, that’s a lot. A freakin’ lotta stuff to take in.

  My heart thumps. My pulse rate surges. “Get ahold of yourself.”

  The sound of my voice echoes through the space. I dig into the closet, pull out a T-shirt and shrug it on. It slides down almost all the way to my knees. Then scrounge around and yank out a pair of pants, then another. Okay, this pair is closer to my size. In fact, they’re small enough to belong to a woman. Huh?

  I step into them, and they’re still loose at the waist. I bend and fold up the legs, and it’s not a bad fit. Has he had a woman here? Why had I assumed that he's never brought any other female here? Or perhaps it belongs to someone else who'd stayed here on another mission. After all, this is a safehouse used by all the Fae Corps. Either way, I need to find out.

  Adrenaline laces my blood. I slam the closet shut, then swivel around and cross the floor. He'd better not have brought another female here.

  Hell, he’s not going to look at anyone else, no woman, that is, except me. A part of me warns that Doc won’t appreciate my being this possessive… his rule that I cannot make any demands, remember? But no, this is different.

  This is about showing him that I am not a pushover female.

  I am his, and I want him to acknowledge it. But how do I do that? Maybe to begin, I try to understand what exactly makes Doc the way he is. This seething mass of contradictions that annoys me, and yeah, intrigues me.

  I’ve never met anyone who turns me on this much.

  Who infuriates me until I want to fling myself at him and shake some sense into him,
and yeah, lick him from head to toe. My belly spasms, and my pussy trembles. No winning with him, is there?

  Even when he’s not with me, the dominance of his presence surrounds me, pulls me, tugs at me, makes me miss everything he did to my body.

  The fabric of my pants brushes the skin of my butt, and pinpricks of pain dance over my skin. Little sparks of lust go off in my brain, and my scalp tingles. Clearly, whatever he did to me has conditioned my body into wanting more…more of what he did to me.

  My breath comes in pants, and I hurry my steps. I need to see him. Now. Must go to him. Now. By the time I reach the door, I am already running.

  I sprint into the corridor when a crash from the other side of the house reaches me.

  25

  Doc

  “The fuck is wrong with me?” I glare at the dishes scattered around me.

  Okay, so I am not handy in the kitchen. I’ve known enough to get by over the years, had picked up the basics from one of my foster moms, the only one who’d been somewhat maternalistic with me.

  Then, her husband had changed his mind and become envious of the bond that had sprung up between her and me. He’d dumped me back at the home where I’d met Tristan. Protecting Tristan, who had been younger than me and weaker, had given me purpose. I have always been big for my age, growing into my almost seven foot height by the time I'd turned twenty-one. Guess the dragon genes had to manifest themselves in some form. I can’t shift, never have developed wings or sprouted scales, or claws for that matter.