This is different, though. Kirian’s never seemed so… human. He’s hurt, and it’s not the kind of pain that can be healed.
“I just don’t get it,” I say. “I don’t see what they would have to gain from hurting me. And I know it sounds crazy, but I swear I could sense their honesty when they denied it.”
“You’re not crazy. I think you just want to believe the best in people, and I love that about you.”
He’s not wrong. I’ve always given everyone the benefit of the doubt before judging them. “Do you want to talk about it?”
It’s not the first time I’ve asked since he let Torius and Kai go, but every time I bring it up, he turns the subject around to me. I think he’s using his concern for my well-being to distract himself, which is fine. I get it. But I want to be here for him.
Seconds pass before he says, “Torius and I were born the same year. His father was my father’s best friend and one of our best warriors. When Torius was five, his father was run through the heart with an iron spear.” He doesn’t have to remind me what that means—the worst kind of death for a fae. “My father made a promise to him before he died. He’d train Torius and I together. Basically raise us as brothers.”
“Maybe Torius wasn’t lying,” I suggest.
“It doesn’t matter. At this point, I can’t take anymore chances.” He lovingly strokes my nose with a finger. “Not when your life is involved.”
“You’re so good to me.” My hand slides down his abdomen, and my clit starts pulsing when my fingers comb over his happy trail. “I can be good to you, too.”
Kirian spreads his legs a little, getting comfortable as I squeeze his rock-hard cock. When my other hand cups his sac, he groans.
Biting my lip, I think about my decision to have sex. We got derailed, but I haven’t changed my mind. I want Kirian. All of him.
Wetness floods my core as I lick his nipple and pump his cock. A bead of precum gathers at the tip, and I use it to lube up his head with my thumb.
If I keep going like this, I know he’ll get off.
Keeping my firm grip on his shaft, I halt my movements. Jerking his hips, Kirian attempts to fuck my hand, but he’s not getting enough friction.
“Why’d you stop?” he pants.
“Because I want something else.”
His lips part, and he lets out a growl. That’s all the warning I get before he flips us over, and suddenly he’s on top of me.
Pushing my thighs apart with his strong hands, he sniffs the air. “So fucking sweet.”
He lowers himself until our naked chests are touching, and I lightly scrape my nails down his back. As if we’re magnets, Kirian’s cock is drawn to my soaked center, and the swollen head bumps against my clit.
Bracing himself on one elbow, Kirian reaches between us and starts rubbing the tip along my slit. Each time the thick flesh presses against my entrance, I want nothing more than to thrust up until he sinks inside.
But he keeps teasing me. “You want me to fuck this pussy?”
God. Teaching him dirty words has certainly paid off. “Yes.”
“How do you want it? Slow? Hard?”
To be honest, I’m past the point of caring. “I—I don’t know. Just give it to me.”
He chuckles darkly, lining his cock up perfectly. He’s about to push forward when a loud knock raps on the wooden door.
Frustrated, we both blow out a breath.
“That would be breakfast,” Kirian says through gritted teeth.
I huff. “Tell them to go away.”
“I can’t.” Reluctantly, he lifts himself off me. “You need your strength today. We’ll have to go on foot to the Shadowlands.”
“Why can’t the horses come?”
“Because it’s likely they wouldn’t survive the trip.”
Yikes. I don’t even know how to respond to that.
Kirian tosses a robe to me before pulling on a pair of loose-fitting pants.
When he answers the door, a troll wheels the food cart in, and it’s covered in steaming plates and bowls of fresh fruit. The smell of sausages and freshly baked bread wafts through the air.
The innkeeper, a dark-skinned fae with long white hair, trails in after our breakfast. Like all the other times we’ve eaten here since the soup debacle, Titus insists on testing the food himself. He seems happy to be our guinea pig. The culprit for the poisoning has yet to be found, and I’ve never seen someone so apologetic about something that wasn’t his fault in the first place.
We wait fifteen minutes, and he and Kirian pass the time by chatting about last year’s festival and the weather. Snow is expected later today. When Titus shows no signs of illness, we finally get to eat.
I’m not sure I want to. Although I’m better, every now and then I get a wave of nausea when I smell food.
I’m pouring myself a glass of citrus juice from the pitcher when another knock comes at the door.
“It’s me,” Damon calls through the wood. “Don’t make me eat alone again.”
Kirian doesn’t get up. With a surly expression, his butt stays planted in his seat while he bites into the loaf of bread. Doesn’t even slice it. Just mauls it like a barbarian.
I nudge his leg with my toe. “Let him in.”
“He’s trying to crash all our dates,” he grumps, then yells, “Get your own mate!”
“Gladly,” Damon shoots back. “Are you offering to help me find her? How kind of you. If you don’t open the door in less than five seconds, I’ll take that as a yes. Five, four—”
Kirian’s out of his chair at lightning speed. He jerks the knob with so much force it shakes the crystals on the chandelier.
He sweeps a hand toward the table. “Please, join us, cousin.”
Laid-back as always, Damon snickers and saunters in, already wearing his leather get-up for the day. Only two dining chairs are available, so he pulls an armchair over to the table.
“That’s
