Curse of the Fae King (2 page)

She shot him a quick, puzzled glance, then grinned and shook her head. “Stoker’s the man who invented Dracula. And I messed up when I told some idiot teenager she didn’t need to be sky-clad to work her spells. She told me her so-called coven, mostly her gullible school friends, meets up on the North Yorkshire Moors. I mean, it’s bleak up there even on midsummer’s eve, and spell-craft doesn’t need gale-force winds and goose bumps to work. How was I supposed to know she’d take the hump? Or that her uncle was the head of the town council? Anyway, my boss’s planning application comes up next week, and she needs him on her side. She kind of lost it when little Miss I Know More About Witchcraft Than You kicked up a fuss. In fact, my boss called me stupid and fired me on the spot.”

Leonidas frowned. “We do not speak the same language, even though the words are the same. No wonder the Fae hate this world. Return my dragonet, and I’ll leave.”

Lipstick mewled, coiled his tail around Meena’s leg, and rummaged in her bag with his snout.

“Greedy guts.” She laughed. “Sorry, sweetie, I’m all out of cheese sandwiches. Time you went home. Besides, if any tourists spotted the pair of you, they’d freak.”

Fae usually looked as if they were sucking ice cubes, but she’d have sworn Sexy and Gorgeous over there just rolled his eyes at her.

“Human eyes can perceive neither me nor my dragon, but you do. Again, what are you?” His tone was long-suffering, so cold she shivered beneath her thick woolen cloak.

“Peeved, fed up, and angry,” Meena answered. She turned her back and wrapped her arms around the dragon’s neck. “So long, Lipstick. Be good for Daddy. And you. Feed your beast when you get home.”

She gave the dragon’s ears a final scratch, and when he uncoiled his tail, it dropped so low it brushed the ground. With a rueful smile, she stepped back—straight into the Fae warrior’s arms.

“You dare attack me?” he teased, more sexual predator than lethal warrior.

There he went with the lightning-storm thing again. Up close, she could feel his magic tingle over her skin, and she basked in a taste of everything her life lacked. Everything the Witch Council had stripped from her. Her heart fluttered, and her lips parted. Her breasts perked up, and her cunt ached with need. Truthfully, if she only knew whether she was immortal, she’d have taken a lover or two by now, but she didn’t dare risk falling for a man she’d outlive by centuries.

“Love me,” he demanded. “Open your legs for me, and let me make recompense for my previous angry words.”

Where the hell had that come from? One minute he stared at her with murder in his eyes, and the next he wanted to screw her senseless. She should shove him off and tell him to get stuffed, but the beauty running though his voice enthralled her. Her nipples pearled, and she’d have given anything to feel his mouth on her breasts or his fingers on her clit.

His arm locked like a steel band around her waist. Was that his cock pressing against her back? He must be one well-endowed male if she could feel it through her cloak. When he ran a trail of kisses down her neck, spikes of pleasure tingled through her spine. She moaned and moved in closer, and even that small surrender made her pussy clench and demand more. What in the name of the Goddess was she doing? Getting close to a Fae was madness—even one who made her ache with wicked, wanton desires.

Pushing him away was the hardest thing she’d ever done, but she refused to be some passing Fae’s easy lay. “Get your hands off me, jackass. I’d never willingly touch you, especially not after you’ve just handled fresh meat. Besides, you’re the one who crowded against me.”

“Aggressive argumentative female.” He stepped closer and nibbled at her earlobe. “You definitely attacked me, and I demand a forfeit.”

She stiffened again, but another touch of his sensual lips on her neck, and her need to fight him melted—right along with her resolve. As she leaned into him, he spun her round and locked his lips against hers. He tasted of magic, mystery, and home—the home she’d abandoned when the Witch Council condemned her. Despite everything, she still missed the otherworld.

Nostalgia welled up inside her, but she refused to show him her pain. Then his tongue slipped between her lips. Resistance? She didn’t have any. She craved more of his touch, wanted him inside her—pounding his cock into her pussy until her back ached and she came over and over. Every stroke of his tongue against hers made her sizzle with sinful desires.

A slow burn started in her groin, then shot like an arrow of liquid fire between her legs. He slid one hand inside her cloak and homed in on her breasts. She should stop him; she knew that…really. Only nothing had ever felt as right as his hands on her breasts. When he fingered her cunt through her flowing black skirt, her breath came in short, passionate gasps that left her weak-kneed.

Magic stormed around them—tiny thunderbolts of power that warmed her blood and made her yearn for all the sensual pleasures only he could give. She wanted him naked, stretched out on her bed, filling her so completely his cock brushed against her womb. Her arms slid around his neck as her breasts pressed up against his chest, and her foot rubbed up and down his leg—Argentine tango-style.

She forgot they were alfresco on the windy cliff top, and her troubles seemed insignificant compared to her needs. He overwhelmed her, enthralled her, and just being near him pushed her to the edge of a precipice. And if he asked, she’d jump. Her mind fogged with passion, and she was willing to surrender her soul to this sweet-talking Fae. One kiss, and he’d already stolen her heart.

Then the dragonet’s head snaked between them. Lipstick’s mewl brought her back to her senses. She jerked out of the Fae’s arms and pulled her cloak tight around her chest. “Okay, I get that you’re some otherworld sex toy, but you’re sure as hell not playing with me.”

Chapter Two

The escaped dragonet was the cutest thing ever, and Meena didn’t want Leonidas taking out his anger on Lipstick. When the Fae’s you-can’t-resist-me smile turned into a frown, she hid her laughter with a cough—but her grin gave her away. Then she shivered at the lack of body contact. This attraction between them felt special and precious—not something she should discard on a whim. Only she wanted a relationship with a future, not a quickie on the cliff top with an oversexed…drop-dead sexy…Fae.

He lifted his chin and looked down his nose at the baby dragon but still tossed him another chunk of raw meat. Lipstick pounced like a puppy and cradled it between his front paws. Even Leonidas laughed; then he turned to Meena. “I’d have thought my intentions were obvious.”

Obvious? Necessary, more like
. She’d never lusted after anyone before. Her pussy craved the passion he promised, but she needed time to think. Backing off, she tucked a stray curl back behind her ear. “Well, thank Hekate your dragon’s got more sense than me. Don’t you dare touch me. Do I have to remind you that you’ve got blood from raw meat on your hands? Try to keep up, Fairy boy.”

She pulled the black evening gloves that completed her Vampire outfit back on and hurried toward the Church Stairs—one hundred and ninety nine steps cut into the cliff side to connect the abbey ruins to the river estuary below. When she cast one last look over her shoulder, the sweet-talking Fae warrior and his scarlet dragonet had vanished.

“Stuck-up Fae,” she muttered. “He’s too sexy for his own good, what with all that corded muscle and his stunning emerald-hued stare. He better look out for Lipstick once he gets him home. Not that there’s much I can do if he doesn’t.”

Right now her life sucked—no job, no real friends, and no prospect of a romance. And how many twenty-two-year-olds still lived with their mother? Okay, her mother was cool and funny, a minor scion of the House of Hekate. She’d packed up and left when the Witch Council banished her daughter, and she’d never once blamed Meena for their exile.

Now that she’d gotten used to it, Meena loved the small Yorkshire town where they’d made a new life, and she always found peace in the abbey’s grounds. The ruins dominated the cliff top in a show of enduring strength in a short-lived mortal world. Not that she even knew if she was immortal. She never got ill, but that didn’t mean she’d live forever. Sweet Goddess! Stranded in this mundane world with neither companions nor magic, Meena wasn’t even sure she wanted immortality.

No wonder that stiff-backed Fae drew her in the way a lightning rod attracts electricity. They shared a common background, but he’d flashed back to the otherworld and left her.
Just bloody walked away, and left me when I’m burning for more
. Damn it, how much rejection could one girl take? The Witch Council had put a price on her head; then her drop-dead gorgeous warrior—with his haughty manner and kissable lips—abandoned her on the cliff top.

Better to live in the human world, even if she didn’t quite fit, than return home to fickle Fae and Witches who wanted to execute her. Earlier she’d wandered through the abbey’s Gothic arches and roofless walls, trying to work out what she wanted from life. Then a cute baby dragon distracted her.
A dragon, for goodness’ sake.

Shame about his bad-tempered owner. He’d bawled her out and mocked her, but even at his angriest, he’d offered to have sex with her. Demanded to screw her, more like, but his voice had warmed the coldest corners of her soul.

She hadn’t expected that kiss, but her body still thrummed with the need of him. At least the sweetie-pie dragonet had interfered before she did something she’d always regret. Although right now, she wished she’d surrendered rather than stopped. She wanted to forget the pair of them and plan out her future, but the way that let-me-fuck-you Fae had moved with such dangerous, deadly grace fascinated her.

Just thinking about his smooth-as-honey voice made her pussy tingle with damp heat.
Move over, Bruno Mars; there’s a new guy in town
. She could almost hear him tell her to open her legs, and her nipples hardened at the thought. She’d missed her chance to fondle and pet him the way she’d stroked his dragon, but his furious glower had pinned her hands to her side. She could still hear him demand a forfeit in that toe-tingling, deeper-than-ocean voice.

His voice! The jackass Fairy enthralled me with his voice.

He’d stood there and dripped magic, and she’d drunk it in—drunk him in—like a drug. If he was here right now, he’d sure as hell be sporting a black eye. She’d make certain of that. Bespelled or not, she knew that when she stroked herself to sleep tonight, it would be his face that filled her dreams. Or did she mean her nightmares? Okay, momentary madness over, she needed to sort out her head before she returned home.

She knew spells and magic the way a university professor knows facts and figures—but nothing worked for her. One word, one gesture from her mother, and herbs grew at a phenomenal rate. One minute with Meena, and they curled up and died. Time to move on and study something worthwhile—law or accountancy perhaps.

Boring—but at least they’ll pay my rent.

* * * *

Elizabeth Sybil’s Herb Farm stood close to the road, but tonight the walk home seemed endless. When the rain started, Meena pulled up her hood and let it fall over her face, but briefly, she rested her fingers on the back of her neck. Right where the Fae warrior had kissed her.

At least her sanity had returned before she did something stupid. Like let him between her legs. For the first time she hated her sensible streak. She wanted to run wild and free—her insatiable Fae at her side.
Okay, that’s not happening
. And, her witchy side demanded, whose fault is that?

Rather than sulk over all the good things her stupid, underdeveloped powers cost her, she hurried home to change her clothes. Mr. Open Your Legs and Let Me Love You had stroked her pussy through her skirt—right after he’d tossed that cute baby dragon raw meat.

Ugh! Blood on my skirt! Thanks for nothing.

At least she’d stood up for herself and sent him away with a flea in his ear, but she treasured his smooth compliments. He’d even called her beautiful, and just for an instant, she’d believed him. Finally the farmhouse came into sight. Unlike Yorkshire’s other herb farms, Elizabeth Sybil’s didn’t encourage visitors. Meena’s mother had been a renowned seer in the otherworld, but she hadn’t made a single prediction since they fled to Whitby. Instead she used her green-fingered magic to grow the best herbs in the county.

For once Meena’s skin didn’t tingle as she passed her mother’s protective barriers—the ones that kept otherworld creatures at bay. Instead she did an abrupt double take.
Yes, that really is Lipstick grazing his way through our profit margins.

She ran toward him, flapping her arms to attract his attention. “Get out of there, you dumb dragon.”

He roared out a welcome and galloped to her side, but now he stood as tall as a fully grown pony.
How fast can one dragon grow?
His tail wrapped around her waist, and his forked tongue flicked over her face.

“Down, boy. Stop it. Yecch. You’re worse than an oversize puppy. Did you ditch the jackass Fairy again? Yes, I get that you’re pleased to see me, but have you seen my mum? Come on, let’s get you something to eat; then we’ll see what you’ve done to our herbs.”

The drizzle lightened, but thunder rolled across the moors. Lightning zigzagged through the clouds. Her muscular Fae flashed into the garden, but he was more dominant warrior than passionate lover.

Meena fondled the dragonet’s ear. “Hey, here’s Daddy, come to take you home again. What’s up? Did your dragon ditch you?”

“No, he did not. It’s more like he popped in and out of Whitby like a needle through cloth until he sensed your trail. Apparently my dragon wanted to spend some time with the fascinating, slender creature that fed him cheese sandwiches rather than stay with his rightful owner—the one that feeds him fresh meat.”

Fascinating? Her? More points to the Fairy boy for his silver tongue, only he was a fully grown man, and judging by the bulge in his trousers, a sexually frustrated one. After the way he’d used his voice to enthrall her, she was on to his tricks.