Storm's Heart (Elder Races #2)(69)

She couldn’t give either one of them to him fast enough. He dug into her mouth, his teeth and tongue hard, punishing. She clawed at his shirt as she kissed him back. She couldn’t get him close enough, couldn’t get the kiss deep enough.

Then he sank one fist into the hair at the back of her head. He forced her to look up at him. “Now you listen to me,” he growled. “It’s my turn to talk. I will not leave you. If Dragos or anybody else has a problem with it, they can take it up with me.”

“The Dark Fae will never accept you,” she said between her teeth.

“I don’t give a shit about what the Dark Fae accept or don’t accept,” he snapped. “There’s only one person and one thing that could make me leave, and that’s you. Look me in the eye, faerie. Tell me you don’t want me, and you better make me believe it.”

Tears welled up and spilled out the corners of her eyes. They streaked down her cheeks to soak into her hair. She looked devastated. She worked to form the words, her mouth trembling. Someone else might have taken pity on her, but he wasn’t a creature that knew much about pity. He knew a hell of a lot about fighting, though, and survival. He was fighting for the both of them now, if she only knew it.

She whispered, “I d-don’t want you.”

“What a bad liar you are,” the monster whispered back to her. “I can smell how much you want me. I felt your wetness and all I want to do is lick it up. Your desire is coated all over my fingers. It’s got me so hard I can barely stand up straight. You’re a twist in my gut I can’t unknot. I look for you when you’re not with me. After you sent me away all I could think about was how much time I should give you before I came back to you. I counted it by hours, by minutes.”

She stared at him, pinned and transfixed by his white eyes and the re-formed structure of his face. “That’s just sex.”

“Is it?” He showed her his teeth. “How bad did you miss me when you thought I went back to New York?”

“N-not bad.” When she had found out he had left the hotel, she had curled up on her bed, unable to move.

“You said you missed me so much. How much is so much?”

“Not much.”

He cocked his head. There was something almost plaintive about his ferocity now, a puzzlement that sliced at her. “Why are you still lying?” he asked. “Why can’t you admit the truth to me? Is it such a horrible thing, to want me? Do you wish you didn’t? Is that why you’re trying so hard to drive me away?”

He was a lord of war. He instinctively knew more about assault tactics than she ever would. He had to know how he dug away at the foundation of her walls. It was a two-pronged attack, as he came at her from the outside but also from within, for she was her own worst enemy. She crumbled and sobbed, “I want you so much it’s making me crazy.”

“Then take me,” he said. His grip in her hair loosened. He knelt in front of her, shocking her anew, and wrapped his arms around her waist as he laid his head against her breast. “Because nothing else matters.”

She cradled his head and bowed over him, wiping her damp cheeks with one hand. “We’re so different from each other.”

“We live a long time. It’s good to not be bored.”

“I like pink lipstick,” she sniffled. “And pretty shoes.”

“Much to my surprise, I find that I do too,” said the monster. His big hands moved up and down the shapely hourglass of her back, and cupped the back of her slender knees. Not once did he let the talons tipping his long fingers graze her thin, tender skin.

“I tried to think how I could walk away from the throne and follow you,” she whispered. “But it’s too late. Now everyone knows I’m alive. There would always be someone coming after me.”

“You need me, faerie. I’ll protect you.” He rubbed his face in that extravagant, silly, wonderful heart-attack dress, and tiny strings of sequined beads tickled his nose. He smiled to feel those little fingers of hers thread through his short hair. Some time very soon he would have those kitten claws digging into his back while he made her scream with pleasure. His voice deepened. “You know we’re good together. Even the fighting is fun.”

They were so good. She buried her face in his hair. She whispered, “Rune was right, the Dark Fae will never accept a Wyr as ruler.”

Rune? Tiago turned his head slightly away from her as he thought. He had known when the First had arrived at the bar, had heard when Rune and Aryal evacuated everyone, and none of it had mattered. That Rune had talked to Niniane—yes, that made sense. That explained it. She had been with Tiago all the way. Then she had changed so suddenly, he still felt mental whiplash. She had tried to drive him away, not for her sake, but for his. He was pretty sure he had Rune to thank for that.

Tiago would make a point of thanking him in person later.

But first things first.

“That dog won’t hunt,” said Tiago. “Because I don’t give a f**k about ruling or the Dark Fae throne. But you should know, they’re still going to object.”

Her breathing stilled as she tried to think. It was hard to do, with hope twisting her into a pretzel inside. Could they do it, could they pull this off? The thought of Tiago coming with her was such a game changer, she couldn’t compute the consequences.