Bite Of Winter (Fae's Captive #3)(22)

“What am I?”

“Huh?” She turns to look at me.

“Didn’t mean to say that out loud.” I sigh and snuggle deeper into the fur. Leander arranged it so I don’t even feel the stone floor beneath us.

“I know what you are.”

My eyes pop open. “What?”

“A cock block.”

I snort. “Not this again.”

“I want to see the mating.” She sighs dreamily. “Is that so wrong?”

“It kind of is, yes.”

“I bet it’ll be like, pretty much the most amazing sex ever.”

“How many men have you been with?” I blurt.

She arches a brow. “We’re going to have that conversation, are we?”

“I just.” I shrug. “You know.” I shrug again. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“Are we talking the males I slept with on purpose or the ones who …” She tries to keep her tone light, but I sense the pain beneath it. She’s such a deep river of history and layers. Maybe I’ll never get to know all of her, but it won’t stop me from trying.

I take her hand. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“Eh, it was a long time ago. Besides, I was more prone to getting beatings than anything else.”

My throat constricts. “I know what that’s like.”

“You do?”

“I had a stepfather.” My skin crawls just talking about him. “He was kind at first. Or, at least I thought he was. But then he changed. And he would …”

“Bastard.” She says it so low it verges on a Leander-growl.

“He was good at it. He knew where to hit me where it hurt but didn’t leave many marks. He’d just, I don’t know, get mad about traffic or a sports game or maybe his coffee wasn’t quite right. He would somehow work it around to being something I did, and he’d hit me. My mother never believed me when I told her. Or maybe she did.” That’s the part that draws a tear from me. Knowing that my mother likely did believe me but wanted Steve more than she wanted me. I blow out a long breath. “I’ve never told anyone about all that.”

“Sometimes, you can only tell someone who knows the pain the same way you do.” She closes her eyes but doesn’t let go of my hand.

“Where is this man now?” Leander’s lethal voice is right next to my ear, and I jump.

“Fae hearing is a bitch.” Beth sits up and glares at him. “Not to mention that you need a bell or something. Damn.”

He cups my face in his hands gently, his soft touch at odds with the murder in his midnight eyes. “Where is your father? I swear on the throne atop the High Mountain that I will find him and make him pay for—”

“He’s dead. I mean, my father died when I was really little. Steve was my stepfather.” I press my palms to his hands. “He died in a barfight when I was in high school.”

He grits his teeth. “I would kill him again.”

“I don’t think that’s a thing.” I press my forehead to his. “But I appreciate the offer.”

His gaze turns heated, and he leans into me until his lips brush mine. My heart jumps, leaps, and falls. But he catches me. He always does.

“You know I will murder any enemy you have. Send them to the Spires with a smile on my face.” He kisses me slowly, his tongue worshipping mine with slow strokes as one of his hands trails through my hair. “Any command from your lips is one I will follow until the Ancestors call me home.”

Why does his murder talk turn me on? I fear this whole “darkness inside me” thing is starting to make sense.

I shake my head. “I don’t want anyone dead.”

“Tell me what you want.” The feral fae is in control, Leander’s fangs long and his pupils blown. “I will give you an empire, a crown, every jewel you desire. You have but to ask.” He kisses me again, pulling me down into the bottomless depth of desire.

I need him in ways that I can’t comprehend, and that scares me.

I pull back and take a breath, my gaze straying to Para and Gareth, both of whom pretend to be inspecting the crystals along the ceiling. “They’re watching us.”

“So?” He moves closer until I fall back on the fur. “Let them.” His mouth claims mine again, one possessive hand sliding down to my waist.

My worries disappear, my thoughts vanish. He fills my entire world, my heart and mind. I wrap my arms around his neck as he moves on top of me.

“Leander!” I gasp when his hard length presses against my thigh, but he prevents any discussion with another wicked sweep of his tongue.

“When I claim you, little one, you will squeal with pleasure.” His feral fae growls as he palms my bottom.

“Oh my god.” I grip his hair as he pulls me against him, his thigh pressing between my legs and heightening every sensation.

“Let me claim you.” He licks my throat, his fangs tickling along my skin. “I can scent your desire, taste it.”

“Yessss,” Beth’s hiss sounds next to me.

My eyes open. “No.” I shake my head and push his chest. “Not happening.”

Beth groans. “You can’t be serious right now.”