Page 43 of A Kiss from the Fae (Mistress of Magic #2)

Queen Moronoe knelt with her back to Faye in front of a throne made from rock covered in moss and ivy. She was completely naked, and her impossibly wide, stout thighs suffocated the heads of what appeared to be a human man and woman.

The man lay on his back, on a kind of reclined green velvet chair, with his head buried in the faerie queen’s large, rounded bottom.

The woman lay with her head touching the man’s, facing in the opposite direction, so that they made a line of nakedness on which the queen sat, with her bottom on the man’s face and her pussy on the woman’s.

The queen’s thighs rippled with pleasure as she moaned loudly, grinding herself onto their faces. Faye looked away as she noticed the man’s rock-hard erection; the woman, too, was noticeably aroused. The top of her thighs were slick with wetness.

Both the man’s and woman’s head and face were completely obscured by the mountainous behind, and Faye wondered if they could breathe at all.

As she rocked and ground on her servants’ faces, the queen held two fae creatures to her immense breasts as they suckled there, their faces almost lost in her vast, fleshy breasts.

Faye saw that the queen was lactating; dribbles of milk bubbled from the fae creatures’ mouths, wetting their lips and running down their chins onto their bodies and down the queen’s ample bosom and onto her stomach.

Around the queen jostled a throng of earth elementals, watching the spectacle of the queen being pleasured.

There was a hum of noise in the room; somewhere, music was being played amid laughter, merriment and the sounds of the queen’s moans of pleasure, and the lustful noises of the fae observing the scene, many of whom were pleasuring themselves and each other as they watched.

Moronoe’s throne room – Faye guessed that was what this was – resided in a hollowed-out cave where insects scurried up the walls and roots poked out of the black earth.

The coppery smell of earth and blood was stronger here, but combined with the freshness of a lemony resinous smoke that rose from a number of crude earth pots with holes at the top.

Sex was thick in the air; the cave-like room was womb-like and dark, and the whole place seemed to have a heartbeat of lust uniting it.

It was a different allure to Murias, but Faye could feel it entering her senses, nonetheless.

It seemed that all the faerie realms had this sexual element: they were the primal places of elemental power, after all, and nothing was more primal than the life force of nature, forever seeking to perpetuate itself, to grow and spread.

Faye called out to the faerie queen who frowned at being interrupted from her lovers.

‘My queen! I would speak with you.’ Faye bowed her head before the vast presence of Moronoe, who despite being naked, gave her such an imperious look that Faye felt mortified by her own presence in the room.

‘Who is it that interrupts my pleasure?’ the queen boomed.

Her breasts were the largest Faye had ever seen, supported by voluptuous rolls of fat; her arms were thick with muscle and dimpled flesh like her thighs, and her stomach was wide and curvaceous.

There was simply so much of her; her power, Faye knew, would be great, like all the faerie queens.

But there was something in her simple physical presence that screamed power, like a mountain.

Where Levantiana seemed to merge with her surroundings, Moronoe pulled everything in the room to her.

She represented every pleasure that the body could ever possibly experience.

Her largeness was testament to the strength and vitality that emanated from her like a battery of life.

‘Faye Morgan. I’m…I’m your brother Lyr’s daughter.’ Faye pushed forward through the crowd and bowed her head respectfully.

‘Can’t you see I am busy?’ the queen demanded.

‘I apologise, Your Highness. I would speak with you,’ Faye repeated.

The queen regarded her for a moment.

‘Why would I be interested in one of my brother’s by-blows?’ she asked.

‘I…I must speak with you,’ Faye repeated. Though I don’t know how I came to be here , she thought. Am I in a dream?

‘Then you must wait.’ Moronoe pointed to a seat at the end of the room.

‘Yes, my queen,’ Faye said obediently.

Moronoe had the same dark beauty as her brother Lyr, but her black hair was braided and dreadlocked, partly piled on her head and partly threaded with ribbons, reaching the floor. The robe that she drew casually around her naked body was a deep wine-coloured velvet.

She had finally emerged from the orgy a good time after bidding Faye wait for her.

Moronoe’s ample breasts bulged from the front opening of her robe and her arms strained at the velvet fabric.

Instead of the delicate leather boots and shoes Faye had worn in the water kingdom, Moronoe’s feet were bare and covered in smudges of mud and dust. She settled herself into another throne, though this one was much grander, made of gold and studded with natural crystals, which sat at one end of a much smaller room.

The same roots grew into the room from the earth walls, but there was no other furniture apart from a golden table next to the throne on which there was a large bowl of fruit and a cup of wine.

If Faye was in a dream, it wasn’t an ordinary one.

Faye bowed her head again.

‘Blessings to you, my queen. I come?—’

Moronoe interrupted her, biting at a pomegranate from the fruit bowl, spitting the thick pith onto the floor and licking the fruit’s sticky juice from her palm. ‘I know why you’re here. I summoned you. I know who you are. Approach the throne.’

That would explain it. Faye approached her aunt carefully.

‘You summoned me? Am I…in a dream?’ she asked.

‘After a fashion,’ the queen replied. ‘Closer.’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘Hmm. You don’t have our colouring. A shame.’

‘I’m…I’m sorry, my queen.’

‘Aunt. I am your aunt. And I am also a queen, though not your queen. Be correct in your expression,’ Moronoe chided.

‘I’m sorry, I…Aunt,’ Faye stammered, taken off guard.

‘No matter. You are blood and that is enough.’

‘Why did you summon me here?’ Faye was wary. She knew that she should fear Moronoe as much as any of the other faerie kings and queens.

Moronoe leaned forward and studied Faye’s face.

‘You are with child, niece. But you cannot have the baby. It will be too dangerous.’ The faerie queen sat back in her throne. ‘It isn’t too late. A little tea and the problem goes away.’

‘No, I…I don’t want that.’ Faye’s hands shielded her belly protectively. ‘I mean…I don’t need it.’

‘Many come to me for it.’ Her aunt sighed and clicked her fingers at a fae that stood next to the throne awaiting orders. It had rabbit ears and the body of a young child. ‘Hermione will fetch it.’

Faye’s stomach lurched as if in reply to Moronoe’s offhand statement. No, no, no , her inner voice pleaded. This isn’t happening.

‘How can you be sure?’ Faye whispered.

A little problem , Moronoe’s words echoed in her mind. A little tea, and the problem goes away.

‘Because I am the faerie queen Moronoe, the ruler of the element of earth. All bodies are made of earth. I am sovereign ruler of all material life – human, animal and plant – and I govern the eternal flow of birth, life and death. I am the womb of the world and also its grave. Trust me that I know when seeds of new life grow in one such as you.’ The queen held out her arms towards Faye who watched as a vine twisted along Moronoe’s arm.

Grapes bulged from the stems and swelled to ripeness.

As Faye watched, enthralled, the deep purple fruit split open and then shrivelled.

The vine retracted as if it had never been, and Moronoe shrugged.

‘You should know as well as anyone that the circle of life follows its path, death and life, life and death,’ she said. ‘I know you lost your friend in Murias. Do you understand now the power that the faerie realms hold?’ she demanded.

Faye took in a deep breath, feeling her stomach twist in grief. Yes, she knew. She could never forget Aisha.

‘Levantiana started to teach me. About the magic of water—’ Faye ventured.

‘Levantiana is not your blood. The High Queen of Murias should not be instructing my niece in the ways of power!’ Moronoe shouted, and Faye stepped back in alarm as the roots in the walls shrivelled and the flowers on the table next to Moronoe shed their petals.

‘You went to her, and she asked that of you that should never be asked. You must know that if you gave her the child that is inside you, Murias would gain a terrible weapon against us. Against your own kind.’

‘I wouldn’t give her my baby. Ever,’ Faye retorted. ‘I made the bargain, but I had no choice.’

‘There is always a choice, niece. You just mean that you disliked the options.’

‘Whatever.’ Faye wasn’t in the mood to be lectured, and for a moment she forgot who she was standing in front of.

She’d reverted into a defensive mood, like when Grandmother used to tell her off.

Her mother, Moddie, never had done much lecturing; she wanted to be more like a sister to Faye .

I became a mother too young , she’d been prone to saying.

I love you more than the world, but I missed out on being young when I had you.

If I’m pregnant, what will it do to my life? Faye wondered. And whose baby is it? Rav or Finn?

‘Do not sass me, Faye Morgan,’ Moronoe snapped. ‘You are thinking of your own mother. She was Lyr’s lover, and she fell pregnant by him. She was young, yes. Younger than you are now.’

‘I…I don’t know if I’m ready. To be a mother,’ Faye confessed.

‘No one is ever ready. It is in your fate to have a child – that, I can see. But it is your choice as to when and how.’

‘How do you…’ Faye started to ask, but Moronoe raised an eyebrow, and Faye didn’t finish the question. It seemed irrelevant. Instead, she asked, ‘ If I’m pregnant?—’