Song of the Fairy Queen (24 page)

Clearly entertained, Kyri grinned down at him, her gossamer wings stroking lightly, so she bobbed up and down lightly, glimmers of light dancing off her wings, shaking a finger at him.

“To skewer me first you would have to catch me, Morgan. That’s not so easy.”

In a flash, his hand snapped out to wrap around a slender, coltish ankle that had bobbed a fraction of an inch too close.

So slender was it that his hand wrapped completely around it, his thumb overlapping his fingers a fraction.

“No?” he said, looking at her impudent face, trying not to see up beneath that poor excuse for a dress that fluttered so fetchingly around her thighs.

Her eyes narrowed a little but a smile tugged at her mouth.

Good
, Kyri thought, Morgan’s expression had eased, softened again.

Something about his strong hand wrapped around her ankle sent warmth through her, though.

Besides, she liked the challenge.

Morgan saw the light spark in her eyes.

With a grin, her wings opened farther, spreading wide to catch the slanting sunlight and gleam like fine crystal. They broadened with each stroke, fracturing and refracting the light into a thousand rainbows. Reflections danced over the clearing. Those wings beat strongly, her body arched with the effort and force of it, her eyes alight. As full and as ripe as fresh-picked peaches, her breasts pressed against the thin shift, her slender belly was taut.

The dress swirled in the breeze from her wings.

Her laughter rang off the trees, echoed as she rose up.

Morgan’s blood heated and this time he didn’t resist it.

To his astonishment, though, he found himself being lifted from the saddle.

“You forget who carried you off the tower, my Lord Marshal,” Kyri said, grinning, her wings beating strongly. “Who has who now?”

Clamping his knees against the horse, Morgan locked his free hand around the pommel of his saddle. He was fairly certain she couldn’t lift both him and the horse… but then again…

Those pretty wings stroked, pulled.

And went nowhere.

She was caught.

Kyri laughed, visibly delighted, gazing down at him as he looked up, her wings still beating strongly, her eyes sparkling merrily.

It was stalemate.

Morgan’s hand, warm on her skin, was distracting. As was the strength in it. More so the look in his eyes, making her body warm, the look of his mouth – firm, so cleanly shaped, perfect, neither too thin nor too full, tempting…

Still….

“Now what, Morgan?” she demanded, crying challenge.

Morgan looked up.

She tossed her head so her hair shimmered golden in the sunlight. That hair tumbled around her lovely white shoulders, shifted tantalizingly over her body, revealing and concealing, those brilliant sea-colored eyes meeting his, daring him.

Shifting his weight, Morgan turned a little and yanked sideways and down on that slender ankle, jerking her off balance so the air spilled from those magnificent iridescent wings and she fell…

Straight into his lap.

He quickly slipped an arm around her waist to keep her from falling further.

It caught her completely by surprise…

Morgan had the satisfaction of seeing her eyes widen, startled, even as he felt her warm weight hit his thighs. Her wings fluttered, brushing against his arm softly.

Those lovely sparkling eyes met his, that pretty mouth curved, laughing.

Golden hair shifted and blew across his arm where it wrapped around her slender waist. Feathers brushed lightly there, too. Morgan was instantly aware of the closeness of her, of the weight of her. Her warm, slender body was close to his and those laughing eyes looked into his as her face tipped up to look at him.

Those pretty lips parted on a soft sigh.

Kyri’s breath caught as she met Morgan’s brilliant blue eyes, saw the sudden sense of awareness in them and heat rushed through her.

Morgan brushed his fingers across her petal-soft cheek.

For an instant, only a fraction of a second, Morgan hesitated, looking down at Kyri, the Queen of the Fairy, in his arms, the soft weight of her in his lap and then his mouth covered hers, catching her gasp in his mouth even as he did.

Her lips lifted to meet his.

She quivered.

His own lips curved as he sank into the kiss.

Strong slender arms circled around his neck as her fingers slid deep into his hair to draw his mouth down to hers. Her lips were warm against his, hungry, seeking what they’d both long denied.

At last
, was all he thought and,
finally
, taking in the taste of her…sweet and fresh, and the intense pleasure of finding her in his arms.

Wrapping his arms around her, Morgan surrendered.

To her, to his need…

It was as if all thought had been burned out of Kyri’s mind. All she could think, all she could feel, all she could taste, was Morgan. Heat poured through her, turning her skin to fire, it seemed.

Morgan.

Who had who indeed…?

The sense of him filled her and Kyri laughed with delight, tangling her tongue around his, tasting him…and needing more.

Morgan wanted to devour her. He drove his hand up into those bright, spiraling curls, gathered them into his hand tightly to draw her mouth harder against his, feeling the springy crush of them, before sliding his hand down to curl around her slender throat. Her pulse beat rapidly beneath his palm.

He skimmed his hand down her arm, then slipped it to her waist. He ran it up her ribs slowly, going still as he found one firm breast and cupped it. His thumb brushed across the hardness beneath the silk. There was nothing between him and her skin but that thin garment.

That breast seemed to swell beneath his hand, filling it. A burst of heat rushed through him, need, desire…..

Her firm slender body pressed against his was maddening. He needed to see, to touch what had always been and was now so tantalizingly close. It wasn’t enough to run his hand over her, for the silk to shift and slide over her skin, the ripe curves of her give beneath it as it did. It was glorious to feel the firmness of her, but he needed more. She quivered to his touch, her mouth avid on his, but he needed more.

He needed to touch her skin.

Grasping that thin shift in both hands, such a fragile piece of cloth, Morgan tore it in two, ripping it from her body, exposing her to him.

He went rigid and groaned…

Hunger blinded him to everything except the glory of her body…

Slender as a reed, with skin as white as fine ivory, her breasts were as full and firm as those peaches he’d compared them to in thought. The areoles were dusted with rosy color, her nipples already taut, hard. Her ribs arched to offer herself to him, her abdomen was firm, and a small thatch of golden curls was snared between her slender, muscled thighs.

In a flash need flared, want and control were gone.

Morgan was so hungry for her he devoured her, burying his hand in her glorious hair to wrench her head back and open her to him, supporting her and binding her at the same time. His mouth descended on her lovely breasts. He savored her, sucked and suckled on them as her hands speared into his hair. Kyri cried out her need as she clung to him. His free hand stroked up her ribs, along the line of her back between her wings as they folded around it, the feathers downy soft, and then down again, over the smooth curves of hip and thigh. Smooth, soft, firm. He couldn’t get enough of touching her. Driving his hand between her thighs, he cupped her and she arched with a soft moan.

Morgan swung a leg over his horse to slide off, cradling her in his arms to carry her to a patch of soft green moss and lower her there.

Gods, she was beautiful
. Her brilliant hair spilled like sunshine across the deep green moss, her wings were spread beneath her, glistening. Her slender white body arched, her breasts were round, perfect…

Morgan wanted to touch her everywhere and anywhere, to stroke his hands over her satiny skin, to have her tremble at every brush of his fingers, to watch her eyes go blind to anything except him. It was their own private magic and, all unknowing of what it was he did, he used it to bind her to him as his mouth and hands molded her, caressed her, and she quivered.

To his joy and pleasure, she did the same. Her hands danced over him, stripping off his shirt to trace the muscles of his chest, his back, with delight and clear joy, her mouth curving into a brilliant smile.

Kyri couldn’t get enough of him. Her hands mapped Morgan’s skin, tracing the broad curves of the hard muscles of his chest, the breadth of his shoulders, the long strong muscles of his back, all the glorious strength of him there beneath her hands.

She looked up at him and his blue eyes go hot as he looked at her. A like fire kindled inside her.

He was maddening. Delightful. Glorious. All she wanted to do was touch him, to feel his body against hers. Between them, they cast his trews away.

Then his mouth lowered to her breast again, tasted her nipple lightly.

Kyri’s breath caught in her throat. Pleasure speared through her. All thought fled as she surrendered to him.

Heat poured through her, Kyri’s heart, soul and spirit sang….wanting….

Morgan made love to her reverently, his mouth brushing over her breasts until he and she were aching. He cupped her sex, sliding his over the places that were heated and damp, teasing until she moaned with need.

She cried out his name.

“What do you want, Kyri?” Morgan demanded, his hands stroking over her, over her soft skin, firm breasts and down to the springy curls between her thighs.

He needed to know, needed to hear it.

A sob in her throat, the truth came out.

“You, Morgan,” she cried. “Always and ever you.”

Shifting her, cupping her hips like a chalice in his hands, raising her to his lips like an offering, Morgan offered a benediction and lowered his mouth to her most sacred places and feasted…

How long had he waited for this, dreamed of it?

Since that first time he’d seen her, dropping to the parapet, so lovely, her skirt fluttering.

She cried out, trembling, quivering, as he found the delicate folds between her thighs. He tormented her deliberately, pleasurably, so those firm thighs opened to him, her hips pumped, begging… Delicately, softly, he savored her until she yielded, her hands falling away as her body shook.

Moaning, nearly weeping, Kyri was beyond surrender as Morgan’s mouth moved on her. His fingers drove deep inside her until she shuddered and fell back helplessly.

Her body was his as her heart and soul already were.

“Kyri,” Morgan said.

She was so beautiful, her lovely head tossing as he pleasured her.

He wanted her so badly. He’d waited for this, wanted it, dreamed of it of a night.

Morgan raised himself over her and at the sound of her name her eyes lifted to meet his, but also to find him thick and hard at the entrance to her.