Loving Ean (The Fae Guard Book 2) (3 page)

“I can’t leave you like this. I don’t want my girl unsatisfied.” I cross my arms and harrumph, pouting. He smiles and winks at me before leaning forward to nibble on my lips. I can’t help it, I melt into him and when the kiss deepens, I barely notice him unsnapping my jeans and slipping his hand inside. He tears his mouth from mine and just as he sucks my nipple into his mouth, over my shirt, he plunges a finger deep into my pussy. “You’re so fucking soaked. I want to beat my chest like a caveman, knowing it’s just for me.” His words fan the flame and I rock against his finger. He adds a second finger and switches to my other nipple.

His mouth moves up to my ear and he captures the lobe between his teeth, nibbling it and then releasing it. “I want you to come, baby. I want to feel your pussy sucking on my fingers. Let yourself go, Laila. Ride my hand,” he purrs. The heel of his hand presses against my clit and with another thrust of his fingers, I completely explode, the orgasm ripping through me, before I float back down and collapse onto Ean’s strong chest. He lifts my chin with a finger and I watch him place the other two inside his mouth and suck them clean. When he pulls them out, he licks his lips and sighs, before taking my lips in a deep kiss, sharing my taste.

“From now on, that’s going to be my favorite dessert. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snack—my favorite thing to eat.” He squeezes me tight in a big bear hug and then unceremoniously dumps me onto the couch next to him again.

“Would you stop doing that?” I grumble. He laughs and pecks my lips.

“So, here’s my plan.”

My brows rise. “You have a plan?”

“Yup.” He grabs my left hand (yes, I noticed it was my left hand. I’m choosing to believe it’s symbolic) and places a sweet kiss on my fourth finger (see?). “I don’t want to go from zero to sixty in the space of one orgasm.” I stifle a giggle. “I want to date you, to grow our relationship and not just rely on the fact that we are fated. We need time to learn how to be a couple instead of just friends.”

By the time he was done with his little speech, I’d fallen.

Hard.

“I DON’T KNOW WHAT
the fuck is going on!” My voice is shaking with rage and I hit the heavy bag in front of me with more force than necessary. Brannon jumps out of the way just in time as the bag breaks from its anchor on the S frame and goes hurdling into his bag. “Damn, Ean. You think you could reign it in a little? What did my poor bag ever do to you?”

Since I’m wearing hand wraps, instead of gloves, I’m able to flip Brannon the bird and scowl when he grins at me, his seriously ridiculous dimples digging into his cheeks. The ever present twinkle (it’s a girly bullshit word, but fuck if it doesn’t fit Brannon perfectly) is in his cerulean blue eyes, but it fades quickly when I continue to stare at him with absolutely no mirth.

“More problems with your leath leanbh?”

I nod, closing my eyes and clenching my fists, before bringing them to my forehead, the rough material scratching my skin. “Every fucking time I go to check on one, I have to spend extra time there figuring out who is trying to get at them. And, I can’t seem to get one fucking clue about who is pulling the strings!” If my bag weren’t lying on the ground at Brannon’s feet, I’d be throwing another deadly punch, but instead, I dig the material of my wraps even deeper into my skin, the pain from the abrasions soothing my guilt.

Lately, the leath leanbh, children who are half Fae, half human, that I guard, seem to be constantly chased by the shadows. It’s almost as if they’ve been targeted, except that theory makes no sense. Their magic is virtually undetectable until they are twenty-one and marked with a unique tattoo of wings: the symbol of the Fae. I can’t even figure out how they are being found, and there are way too many halfs being discovered for it to be a coincidence.

It’s my job to protect those children, to keep them from being courted by The Fallen; dark Fae who live in the shadows. Honesty is the mark of the Fae and, as decedents of fallen angels, if we lie, we become as our ancestors—a Fallen.

These half children aren’t able to accept the truth until they turn twenty-one and are marked. They gain the ability to use their magic, and we escort them back to the fae realm to be trained to use it, to fight the darkness, and learn about the world they are now a part of.

It’s never easy to explain to someone who is half human that the world they believed was nothing but fairy tales and folklore is in fact real. A world where you stop aging in your mid-twenties, where you can manipulate the elements, and where you can find a destiny that would never have been a part of even your wildest imagination. How do you help them to understand that they are descended from fallen angels and that they now possess magic that it is meant to protect, to heal, and to fight evil? Then explain that we are tied to the sun; it literally fills our souls and feeds our magic. Without it, we would wither away.

The simple answer is to take them into the sun, helping them feel the warmth and power that flows through them in its rays, and then take them into the shadows to feel the difference in their energy. The cold almost chills you to the bone, even on the hottest day. And when a Fallen is near, a rush of coolness flows through your body in warning. These are all things that I teach them, hoping they will accept it with enthusiasm.

I help them accept the dynamic changes within their family, as well. Not only hiding their true nature from almost everyone, but the realization that they will outlive every person they have ever known and loved. For the Fae, too much time spent in the human realm will diminish their immortality, and they will eventually begin to age. If they stay there permanently, they will die. These children have enough fae blood to move between worlds, but when a human steps into the Fae realm, they cannot leave, and since the child can’t enter until they are marked, most often, the Fae parent will stay away from Rien so they will age appropriately with their spouse. After their child, or children, are marked, the parents must make a difficult choice. The human will gain immortality but will leave everyone and everything, besides their spouse and children, behind.

For some, they embrace the knowledge, running to their new future with excitement and open minds. Others require more convincing to understand that their knowledge of faeries are truths that have been twisted by humans. Often, it helps to find the mark that has appeared on their body. Showing them the wings, that somehow spurred the human belief that the Fae have literal wings and can fly. Being able to control the wind and give ourselves a running boost, certainly doesn’t help this ridiculous bullshit.

However, the worst of experiences is when the one you protect is turned before they even have a chance to learn the truth. If a Fallen somehow discovers one of these kids and can weave them into a web of lies, then when they turn twenty-one, they are already submersed in that way of living.

I don’t want to admit it to Brannon, but I’m scared shitless to lose another one.

My thoughts are interrupted when a bright shout of laughter rings throughout the training room. The sound warms me, brings peace and contentment to my soul, and puts tiny cracks in the hard exterior I’ve built. I can’t keep my eyes from wandering over to the doors and the woman who has just walked in. Laila Foster. Her head in thrown back as the sound bursts from her mouth, a mouth I know has plump, red lips and tastes like the sweetest raspberries. Her green eyes are closed tight, her rounded little nose scrunched, and her apple cheeks reddened from the exertion of laughing, a look similar to the one on her face in the throes of ecstasy. Her shoulder length, white-blonde hair is pulled into a pony tail, but I know those straight strands will slide through fingers like the finest silk.

Before I can stop myself, my eyes travel down her luscious body, petite, but with curves that have my dick standing at full attention whenever I am near her, or see her, or even think about her. She is wearing form fitting running shorts, and a t-shirt that is much too small (in my opinion). Her tits are pressing against the fabric, showing every man in the room what I already know—they are round and plump, more than a handful. But, only I know that they have dusky, rose nipples that are heaven to have in my mouth. Her pale skin is radiant and smooth, a playground for my tongue.

Her coloring matches those of all the Fae, with the exception of our variety in eye color. And yet, somehow, she stands out; a vision of beauty that outshines any other woman I’ve ever met. Her laughter is pure music, and I feel a rush of irrational anger that I’m not the one making her smile.

Fuck!
I turn back towards the bags and adjust myself, willing my cock to settle down and get rid of the tent in my loose gym shorts. After a minute, I’m able to get a semblance of control and notice that Brannon is leaning against his bag, shaking with laughter. My eyes narrow into slits and I glare daggers at him. He’s the only one who knows what is going on in my head right now, and I’m really starting to regret having ever confided in him.

“Dude, your face isn’t the blank canvas you think it is. You’re going to need to do a better job of hiding the jealousy and the obvious hard-on she gives you.” He sobers just a little, “Or better yet, do something about it.”

I don’t respond, I glance back at the woman of my dreams, careful to keep my face expressionless, before grabbing my gear and heading to the locker room. I can feel his eyes burning into my back as he watches me walk away. Halfway across the room, I’m ensconced in the scent of raspberries and cream, causing my body to pause without permission.

“Ean.” Her voice washes over me and longing suddenly consumes me. My head swivels to meet her stare and I’m struck speechless by her beauty. She always has this effect on me, so I just lift my chin in greeting, and continue on my way.

Inside the locker room, I pick up the rest of my things and turn to head up to my apartment. Brannon is standing by the door watching me, his face unreadable. “You underestimate her, you know.”
Why does everyone keep telling me that?
I know Laila’s strong, but she is also soft and sweet, and obviously couldn’t handle the life as a guard in the field. She’d only spent a decade or so protecting before she decided to stay at the facility as a full time instructor. If she couldn’t handle that, how would she be able to deal with my shit?

“I don’t think I do. She’s too good for me—I would break her.” My voice in defiant, shutting down this thread of discussion. Brannon’s face is still a mask that I cannot read, but he unfolds himself from leaning against the wall, shaking his head, and approaches me.

“Was Fate able to give you any insight into what’s going on with the kids you protect?” he asks, changing the subject.

“No,” I huff in frustration. “She hasn’t been able to get a clear grip on what’s going on and it’s got her mad as hell. She agreed that there is cause to be wary of how many of my kids are being threatened by darkness, though she wasn’t ready to go so far as to agree that they are being targeted. I think she knows more than she is telling me, but what else is new?” I sit on the bench and scratch my head before pinching the bridge of my nose, trying to release some tension. My mind wants to dwell on that first time, but I push it away. I can’t get distracted by letting myself fall into the destructive memories.

“Did Aden tell you about Shaylee?” Brannon asks.

“Which part? The part where he’s completely whipped already? The part where he is going to get his ass handed to him for being an idiot and leaving her without a word for two years? Or the part where he’s lost as to how the darkness has already found her?”

Brannon snickers quietly at my first response before responding to my last question. “Aden is desperate to get her back here. You should tell him what’s going on with you and see if he can come up with any theories.”

Aden has been gone for a few months, taking the opportunity to check on all of his other charges before getting Shaylee and bringing her back here to Rien. He’d been guarding her from the time she was born, but when she was nineteen, apparently their attraction got a little out of hand and he decided it was best for him to leave. So he left, in the middle of the night, without a word. As I said,
fucking idiot.
He’ll have his hands full when he gets back, training her and convincing her that they are supposed to be together, not to mention that they happen to be fated. While he deals with his shit, I’m going to drop in on a couple of his charges over the next few months.