3

I tease her about her tryst later, when she returns home and I’m back in the form of her Faerie godfather. Even as I watch her blush and squirm, all I want to do is confess everything and beg her to let me taste her pussy again. I’ve tasted my share of females, but the taste of this human is like a fine wine crafted especially for me. Her arousal was the most delicious liquid, and the very shape of her pussy was so pleasing, so satisfying for my tongue. The way she came for me thrilled not just my body but my brain in a way I can’t describe. It was all I could do not to glow in her presence.

And then she let me come inside her.

No one else has ever felt so good wrapped around my cock. I’m ruined for anyone but this woman.

When she asks to attend another ball, my heart sinks, weighed by guilt. If I am to grant this wish for her, I’ll have to keep up the pretense and continue being the King, which means performing difficult spellwork so I’ll have the knowledge I need to play the role convincingly. It means more blood magic and a constant drain on my energy .

And it means I’ll be tempted to fuck her again.

Revealing the truth now would make her rightfully afraid and angry. She would reject all future favors from me… and I can’t allow that, because she needs me. Without me, she will continue to be miserable, abused, and hopeless.

I’ve created this mess. I’ve trapped us both in a situation that I suspect won’t end well. And yet I can’t stop thinking about kissing her again. The compulsion grows more insistent the longer I’m in her presence. So when she proposes a bargain that will bind us even closer together, I consent. For every compliment, I’ll owe her a favor.

We bind the bargain with a kiss—gentle this time, sweet and soft.

I can’t stop the glow. It suffuses my body, radiating from every pore. I’m incandescent in her presence, too weak to resist the adoration flooding my soul.

So I leave. I whisk myself through a portal without even planning my destination, and somehow I end up in Torin’s sitting room again.

My cousin is there, wrapped in a velvet robe, drinking and gazing into the fire. When I appear, he startles.

“The fuck, Kil,” he mutters. Then his eyes widen. “You’re glowing.”

“I know.” I fling myself onto the sofa opposite his chair. “I think I’m in love. Or I found my mate. Or something. God-stars, I need a drink.”

He gestures to a collection of crystal decanters on the low table. “Help yourself.”

I pour myself a glass of green-tinted troll whiskey, a black-market variety he’s technically not supposed to have. It wrecks my throat on the way down and scorches my belly. I deserve the pain. All the pain.

“Fuck, what have I done,” I groan, lying back and pressing one hand to my forehead .

“You fucked her.” Torin pulls a licorice stick from a jar on the table and takes a gigantic bite.

I don’t respond. Torin has done his share of questionable things, but I think this is worse. I’m not sure I can bear his judgment. Even though the girl consented to sex with me, even though she said she simply wanted to fuck and anyone would do, I can’t shake the sense of guilt. Honesty has always been important to me, and by doing this, I am going against one of the prime tenets of my character. My dick has overruled my good sense.

“Why so glum?” Torin asks. “Was she not good?”

I choke out a laugh. “Didn’t you hear me? I said—”

“You think you’re in love,” says Torin sardonically. “I’ve heard it before, Kil. You fall hard, you’re ready to bond with someone, they reject you, and you crumble into despair. Same cycle.”

“This one is different.”

“You’ve said that about all of them.”

He’s right, I have. But with my other lovers, I wanted them to be the one for me, and this girl simply is the one . She’s mine, and I belong to her, whether she knows it or not, whether either of us want it or not.

“I can’t explain how I know,” I admit. “And I have no time to languish here, moping about it. I have work to do. A mortal kingdom to run.”

He arches a brow. “A kingdom? What have you gotten yourself into, Killian?”

I get to my feet and down the rest of the troll whiskey, shuddering at the fiery rush through my throat. “Don’t tell my parents, or yours. I’m going to fix this.”

“My darling cousin, you’ve mistaken me for someone who cares one iota about anything that happens in the mortal world,” he drawls. “Off with you. Enjoy your machinations and mysteries, while I drown myself in drink and darkness. ”

I hesitate, sensing a shadow in him that I don’t normally perceive. “Are you alright?”

He flashes me a bright smile. “Always.”

I’m unconvinced, but time is short. I must fetch supplies for the spells I will have to cast, and then I must make an appearance as the King before his servants and guards begin to panic over his absence.

“I’ll be back soon,” I tell Torin. “We’ll talk.”

“Gods, I hope not.” He takes another bite of his licorice stick as I walk through my portal.