Page 59 of A Dance with the Fae (Mistress of Magic #1)

His breath was hot on her neck, and her skin was electric against his.

Faye, sidhe-leth, bruadarach, neach-gaoil .

His words were honey, his lips velvet on hers.

Her pleasure came in spirals of golden light, deepening to red in a soft throb between her legs.

She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him in deeper.

Finn, Finn . She called out his name, kissing the golden skin of his sun-warmed chest. Please, more.

He called her sidhe-leth : half fae. It was an identity she was still coming to terms with.

His body was so familiar. It was as if he’d been made for her – his muscular arms and strong, rangy torso with its tattoo of a kelpie that reared from his waist to his neck.

Kelpies were creatures from myth, yet Faye had first-hand experience of them now.

She’d learned that the faerie realms were as real – and as dangerous – as the ecstasy she enjoyed when she was with Finn Beatha, Faerie King of Murias.

She’d fallen for him, once, but it was over now. Or, so she thought…

Rav rolled over and draped his arm over her, waking her from her erotic dream. It was so sudden that she didn’t know where she was for a moment. Being jolted back into the ordinary world was painful; her heart yearned for Finn, and her body demanded its satisfaction.

‘You were calling out something. A name,’ Rav murmured sleepily. Her tall, strong, muscle-bound boyfriend: a man who adored her. She was still getting used to that idea. She sighed and turned towards him, stroking his body, not wanting her pleasure to end so abruptly.

‘Mmmm,’ he said, still mostly asleep.

‘Rav. Wake up.’ Faye’s hand caressed him, lower, lower, until she reached his thighs.

His eyes flickered open a little as she gently stroked his cock; even asleep, it was a good size.

She knew that when it was hard, it was long and thick: almost too much for her, but only almost. She loved the sensation of Rav’s thickness filling her completely; when he pushed into her, firmly and slowly, and she took all of him, it made her want to roll her eyes back in her head.

She could feel that she was wet already from the dream. She took his hand and stroked his fingers gently in her wetness. He made a low growl in the back of his throat, still half asleep.

‘Make love to me,’ she whispered, kissing him, the heat from Finn’s kisses still radiating through her body. Her hand began stroking him more insistently, and she felt him harden almost immediately. He growled and reached for her, pressing her naked body against his.

‘Who dares wake the beast?’ he mumbled, as he pressed himself against her.

Faye gasped as she felt him press against her wet, aching pussy; as she felt him roll onto her, his weight pushed her into the mattress.

Rav was a large, heavy man; he reminded her of a bull, all muscle and heavy brows, thick biceps.

His calves were as wide as Faye’s head, and if she put her arms around him, she could barely make her hands meet around his torso.

She loved his largeness. He growled like an animal when he was aroused, and yet he was so sweet to her: gentle, kind, thoughtful.

Apart from in bed, where he was her beast to be ridden, consumed and conquered.

That was how it was between them. With Finn Beatha, the faerie king, Faye had been his slut. His slave, his submissive concubine. And she had loved that, although part of her had hated herself for loving it.

With Rav, it was different. Rav was her bear, her bull, the lustful beast that she used for her own pleasure.

She was his queen, and he adored pleasuring her.

To Rav, his own pleasure was secondary: the more that Faye demanded of him, the more orgasms and delight he could give her, the happier he was.

It wasn’t to say that Rav didn’t have any pleasure of his own.

He did. Faye wanted to give him pleasure as much as she wanted to get her own.

But that was the dynamic between them: Queen and Beast.

Still half enmeshed in the dream, she’d forgotten the shadowy nature of her faerie king’s love.

Faye’s waking self knew that Finn Beatha was an amoral, selfish being concerned only with his own pleasure, but her unconscious remembered only the delicious pleasure he’d enchanted her with – a lassitude of erotic delight he cast over her like a silk robe.

A thousand of his kisses on her skin wasn’t enough.

Halfway between dream and reality, Faye’s desire for Rav merged with her desire for Finn, but perhaps most of all, the desire to forget.

Faye craved the lulling effect of being in the faerie kingdom of Murias; she wanted the abandonment of knowing nothing but desire and its satisfaction.

She didn’t want to have to struggle with the two sides of herself: half faerie and half human, light and shadow.

She’d tried – and failed – to reconcile one to the other.

How much easier it would be to forget everything and be only breath and pleasure, now, now, now ?

She made Rav lie under her, and straddled him in the light of early morning which was beginning to cast twisted shadows in the bedroom.

‘Shhh.’ She put her finger to his lips as an animal noise escaped them.

Pursuing her climax, she took him inside her and moved rhythmically.

He gripped her hips, drawing her back down onto his hard, thick shaft.

Opening his eyes and staring up at her with his long-lashed black gaze, he began pushing up into her, controlling the rhythm, increasing the speed, but she uncurled his fingers from where they dug deliciously into the softness of her hips and pinned both of his wrists to the bed, leaning forward and putting all her weight on him.

They both knew that Rav could push her off him easily if he wanted to, that he could take control whenever he wanted.

He could flip Faye over, pin her to the bed with one thick wrist and fuck her mercilessly if he wanted to.

Occasionally, the Beast took over, and Faye secretly loved it when he did.

Then, Rav was in charge, and he would push her face into the bed, telling her that she was his, that he was going to take his pleasure from her and there was nothing she could do about it.

That she should spread her legs and take what was coming; that he was going to treat her like a servant girl for the evening and not a queen.

Yet, most of the time, Faye was in charge, and Faye loved to be queen.

She leaned forward slowly, pulling him all the way out of her and then pausing for a moment before she pushed back, gradually feeling him fill her. He grunted, and she smiled.

‘You can’t come until I tell you. The Beast needs to know his place.

Under me,’ she whispered in his ear, and he growled appreciatively.

Faye felt him harden even more. She pressed her full, rounded breasts to his mouth and he sucked, kissed and licked them greedily.

‘Good boy,’ she murmured as she rode him. ‘Good…Yes…’

The spiralling pleasure that had begun in the dream returned, and the need for satisfaction roared in her body. She closed her eyes, and Finn’s perfect face appeared before her eyes; when her hands stroked Rav’s broad, hard muscled chest, it was Finn’s flesh they remembered.

Her pleasure grew and grew, and the erotic dream of faerie returned.

Faye remembered the silk dresses she wore there, cut to the waist, exposing her breasts; she remembered the feel of the material on her skin.

And she remembered the night of the masked ball when, delirious from the faerie food and wine and from the desire that flowed in her veins, she and Finn had made love in front of an audience of fae creatures.

At the time, it had seemed as though their pleasure fed their audience, and vice versa.

‘That’s right. Don’t stop,’ she ordered, as Rav obediently suckled at her nipples, growling with desperate desire.

‘My Queen…Please…don’t torture me any longer…’ Rav begged her, but she shook her head.

‘No,’ she said, knowing that the longer she kept him from climaxing, the better it would be for him.

She knew that he wanted to explode inside her, but that he also loved delaying his own pleasure.

Waiting, being told when he could come…It was all something they had begun to explore together.

And the more Faye stood in her own emerging fae power, the more they both loved it.

However, as Faye began to feel her climax approach, she was only half in the ordinary world.

Half of her was in Murias, making love to Finn, who could exploit every feeling of pleasure in her – with his breath, with his tongue, with his fingers and with the ardour that seemed never to come to an end.

Faye loved being the all-powerful queen of Rav’s fantasies, but she had never truly had an orgasm as mind-blowing as the ones she had had with Finn Beatha in the land of Murias when he had dressed her in the finest rose gold chains, paraded her almost naked in front of his faerie court and made her submit to him in the most delicious, depraved ways she could imagine.

As she closed her eyes, the dream returned to her, and her orgasm – a wave that had been building and building, plateauing and then building again as Rav’s cock rubbed against all the sensitive parts of her – began to break.

She felt a spurt of wetness from her bathe Rav in her ecstasy. She screamed, allowing herself to totally let go, surrendering herself to her own pleasure. She panted, making guttural noises in her throat.

Yet, it was Finn Beatha she cried out for in her mind and had to bite her lip to stop herself screaming for.

It was for Finn that she ground her hips as she came, hard and deep and hot.

It was her faerie lover that was with her, his hot mouth on hers.

Rav was just a body, a substitute in that moment.

‘You have not forgotten me.’ Finn was there, behind her eyes; perhaps she’d conjured him in her lovemaking.

The faerie king had forbidden her from ever returning to Murias, the faerie realm of water, because of her betrayal; because she chose a human lover over him. And yet, he was here, wanting her.

‘No,’ she breathed. The sheets became his skin, smooth against hers. Falling deeper by the second, she buried her head in them, seeking Finn’s perfect body; his smell, which was of the sea.

‘My Queen…my Queen…please…’ Rav moaned against Faye’s shoulder, and she closed her eyes as the ripples of the orgasm continued to radiate through her.

She didn’t want to remember where she was.

Though she would choose Rav every sober and conscious moment in her waking hours, her unconscious wanted Finn.

But Finn is dangerous. And you have been banned from ever visiting Murias again , she told herself, her head clearing a little.

‘Come for me, Beast,’ she murmured. ‘Fill me up.’

Rav growled, gripping her bottom and pulling her down onto his rock-hard shaft, making noises in his throat, rutting, desperate for her, for release.

‘My Queen…ahhh…Faye…’ He grunted as his cock pulsed inside her.

She felt him climax and kissed him, holding him, knowing that he was real. That she could rely on him.

‘Good Beast,’ she purred as he held her tight against him.

‘Thank you, my Queen,’ he breathed, holding her, kissing her forehead and reaching up to stroke her hair away from her face.

Yet, when she closed her eyes, she saw Finn Beatha’s face one last time. ‘You are mine,’ he said. ‘You are mine, sidhe-leth . Our bond is too deep to be denied.’

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