Page 12 of Accidentally Ever After (Wings & Whispers #1)
As we made our way back to our chambers, Caelen’s hand rested comfortably at the small of my back, a warm presence I’d grown increasingly accustomed to.
“You’ve made an impression tonight,” he said as we walked the quiet corridors. “Several of my father’s traditional allies approached me with reassessments of their positions.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning they had expected my human consort to be an embarrassment,” he explained. “Instead, they found someone adapting to our ways while maintaining a fresh perspective they found… intriguing.”
“So I’m not a complete diplomatic disaster,” I said, pleased.
“Far from it.” His fingers traced small circles against my back, sending pleasant shivers up my spine. “You may be my greatest diplomatic asset.”
We reached the doors to our adjoining chambers, but instead of separating as we sometimes did, Caelen followed me into my rooms. As the doors closed behind us, I felt the tension I’d been carrying all evening begin to ease.
“God, I need to get out of these clothes,” I groaned, already working at the fastenings of the formal tunic. “They look amazing but feel like wearing a costume.”
Caelen’s eyes darkened as he watched me. “Allow me,” he said, moving closer.
His fingers replaced mine at the tunic’s closures, deftly undoing the intricate fastenings. As the garment loosened, his knuckles brushed against my skin, leaving trails of tingling awareness.
“The court would be scandalized to know how eagerly their prince undresses his consort,” I teased, trying to lighten the suddenly charged atmosphere.
“The court would be envious,” he corrected, his voice dropping lower. “To see what is mine alone to witness.”
The possessive statement sent heat pooling low in my belly. Over the weeks, our physical relationship had deepened, each encounter more intense than the last. Yet there remained a careful restraint on Caelen’s part—a holding back I’d attributed to his concern about rushing me.
Tonight, though, something felt different. There was an intensity in his gaze I hadn’t seen before, a tension in his movements that suggested tightly leashed control.
The tunic fell open completely, and Caelen slowly pushed it from my shoulders, his eyes following its descent. When his gaze returned to mine, the violet had darkened to that indigo that indicated desire.
“You were magnificent tonight,” he said, his voice rough. “Navigating the court as if born to it, challenging Ellaria, charming even my father’s allies. Do you have any idea how that affected me? Watching you claim your place at my side?”
His words sent a thrill through me that had nothing to do with politics and everything to do with the hunger in his eyes.
“Show me,” I challenged, my own voice husky with sudden need.
Something broke in his expression—that careful restraint finally snapping. In one fluid movement, he pulled me against him, his mouth claiming mine in a kiss that was pure possession. His wings extended, wrapping around us both in that intimate cocoon that had become one of my favorite sensations.
I kissed him back with equal fervor, my hands finding the fastenings of his formal attire, eager to feel his skin against mine. He helped me navigate the complex closures of his tunic and armor, breaking the kiss only when necessary to remove layers.
When we were both shirtless, he pulled me close again, the feeling of skin against skin drawing matching sounds of pleasure from us both. His wings enfolded us, creating that private world where nothing existed but the two of us.
“I have wanted you like this all night,” he confessed against my neck, his lips tracing a path that made me shiver. “Watching you in formal attire, bearing my token, moving through the court as my consort… it awakened something primal in me.”
“I like primal,” I encouraged, my hands sliding up his back to the sensitive base of his wings.
The contact drew a groan from him, his wings trembling against me. “Careful,” he warned, voice strained. “I am not in a mood for restraint tonight.”
“Good,” I said boldly. “Neither am I.”
With a sound that was nearly a growl, he lifted me effortlessly, carrying me to the bed. As he laid me down, his wings spread wide above us, catching the moonlight streaming through the windows and casting patterns across my skin.
“Do you know what it means,” he asked, hovering over me, “when a fairy displays their wings fully during intimacy?”
I shook my head, mesmerized by the sight of him above me—skin glowing with those pearlescent patterns, wings extended to their full impressive span, eyes dark with desire.
“It is the ultimate vulnerability,” he explained, voice low and intense. “To expose one’s wings fully to a partner is to place absolute trust in them. It says: I am yours completely.”
The significance of the gesture made my chest tighten with emotion. “Caelen…”
“Tonight I claim you as mine,” he continued, his hand tracing the line of my jaw. “And offer myself as yours in return. No holding back. No careful distance. Just us, as we are meant to be.”
The declaration hung in the air between us, weighted with meaning beyond the physical. This wasn’t just about sex—it was about commitment, about choosing each other despite the complications.
“Yes,” I said simply, reaching for him.
He came to me willingly, our bodies aligning as if designed for each other. His weight settled over me, comforting rather than confining, and his wings created a canopy above us, shutting out the rest of the world.
Our kisses grew more heated, hands exploring with increasing urgency. When his fingers found the fastenings of my formal pants, I lifted my hips in silent encouragement. He removed them with practiced efficiency, his own following quickly after.
Naked beneath him, I felt none of the self-consciousness I might have expected. There was only desire, anticipation, and a deepening emotional connection I was finally ready to acknowledge.
“How do you want me?” I asked, running my hands along his sides, feeling the subtle difference in texture where skin met wing.
His eyes, now nearly black with just a rim of violet, held mine. “In every way possible,” he said with such sincerity it made my breath catch. “But tonight, I wish to claim you completely. To join with you in the deepest way.”
I understood his meaning. Though we’d shared many intimate acts over the weeks, there was one line we hadn’t yet crossed. Until now, Caelen had been careful not to push for full penetrative sex, perhaps sensing my lingering reservations.
Those reservations were nowhere to be found tonight.
“Yes,” I said again, pulling him down for another kiss. “I want that too.”
The smile that spread across his face was radiant. “You are certain?”
“Completely,” I assured him. “I want to feel you inside me.”
A shudder ran through him at my words, his wings trembling visibly. “Your directness continues to undo me,” he murmured, pressing kisses along my jaw, down my throat.
His mouth continued its journey downward, exploring my chest, my stomach, and finally, taking me into the wet heat of his mouth. I gasped, hands fisting in the sheets as pleasure surged through me.
He took his time, using his mouth and hands to bring me to the edge before backing away, only to begin again with renewed intensity. When I was incoherent with need, he finally reached for a small vial on the bedside table—something I hadn’t noticed him bring in.
“Essence of moonbloom,” he explained, opening it to release a scent like midnight flowers and rain. “It enhances sensation while easing the way.”
The oil, when he coated his fingers with it, seemed to shimmer slightly, catching the light like liquid moonlight. The first touch of his slick finger against me was cool, then rapidly warming, creating a tingling sensation that heightened every point of contact.
He prepared me with meticulous care, watching my face for any sign of discomfort, adding more of the shimmering oil as needed. By the time he had three fingers moving inside me, I was writhing beneath him, desperate for more.
“Caelen, please,” I gasped, beyond pride or patience. “I need you now.”
His wings flared wide, the patterns on his skin glowing brightly with his arousal. “As you wish.”
He positioned himself between my legs, lifting my hips slightly for better alignment. The first press of him against me drew matching gasps from us both. Then, with exquisite slowness, he began to push inside.
The sensation was intense—a stretching fullness that bordered on too much before transforming into pleasure so acute it stole my breath. The moonbloom oil created that same tingling warmth everywhere we connected, magnifying each sensation.
When he was fully seated within me, Caelen paused, his eyes locked with mine, wings trembling above us. “Blake,” he breathed, my name like a prayer on his lips. “You feel… perfect.”
I reached up to trace the glowing patterns on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath my palm. “So do you,” I said honestly. “Like you were made for me.”
“I was,” he said with simple certainty. “As you were made for me. The matchmakers knew.”
Before I could process the emotional weight of that statement, he began to move, and coherent thought fled. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure through me, the moonbloom oil enhancing every sensation to almost unbearable heights.
His wings created a rhythm of their own, sometimes spreading wide, sometimes curling forward to brush against my skin in counterpoint to his thrusts. The dual stimulation was maddening, building pleasure layer upon layer.
“Touch my wings,” he gasped after several minutes of this exquisite torture. “I need to feel your hands on them while I’m inside you.”
I reached up eagerly, my fingers finding the sensitive membranes of his wings. As I stroked along their surface, his rhythm faltered, a sound escaping him that was almost musical in its intensity.
“Yes,” he encouraged, his voice strained. “Like that. More.”
Emboldened, I let my hands explore the full expanse of his wings, learning which areas drew the strongest reactions. When my fingers found the base where they joined his back, Caelen’s entire body shuddered, his thrusts becoming deeper, more urgent.
“I won’t last if you keep that up,” he warned, his voice rough with pleasure.
“I don’t want you to last,” I admitted, continuing my exploration of his wings. “I want to feel you lose control. For me.”
His eyes, now so dark they were nearly black, held mine with scorching intensity. “For you,” he agreed. “Only ever for you.”
His pace increased, each thrust hitting perfectly inside me, sending sparks of pleasure through my entire body. One of his hands wrapped around me, stroking in time with his movements, the moonbloom oil making his touch electric.
“Come with me,” he urged, his wings now trembling continuously beneath my hands. “Let me feel you.”
The combined sensations—his body moving inside mine, his hand around me, the sensitive membranes of his wings against my fingers, the moonbloom oil enhancing everything—pushed me rapidly toward climax.
When it hit, it was with an intensity that bordered on overwhelming, pleasure crashing through me in waves that seemed endless.
Caelen followed immediately, my release triggering his own.
His wings flared to their fullest extent, the patterns on his skin glowing so brightly they illuminated the entire chamber.
He cried out my name as he found his release, the sound carrying notes that seemed to resonate in the air around us, creating harmonies that shouldn’t have been possible.
In that moment of shared ecstasy, something shifted between us—a deepening of the bond I could feel almost physically, like pieces clicking into place that I hadn’t known were misaligned.
As the intensity faded, Caelen’s wings curled forward, enfolding us both in their protective embrace. He remained inside me, our bodies still joined as our breathing gradually slowed.
“That was…” I began, then faltered, unable to find words adequate to describe what had just happened.
“Yes,” he agreed, seeming to understand perfectly. “It was.”
When he finally withdrew, it was with obvious reluctance. He cleaned us both with gentle efficiency, then settled beside me, one wing draped over us like the world’s most incredible blanket.
“The bond,” he said softly, tracing patterns on my chest with his finger. “Did you feel it strengthen?”
I nodded, not surprised he had felt it too. “Like something clicking into place.”
“That is the true mating bond,” he explained. “What happened when you signed the contract was the beginning, but this—the full physical and emotional joining—completes it.”
The implications slowly dawned on me. “So we’re… more married now?”
His lips curved. “In a manner of speaking. The bond is deeper, more permanent.”
I should have felt trapped by this news. Instead, I felt something closer to contentment. “Does this change things for the Spring Conjunction?”
“It strengthens our position,” he said, his finger still tracing idle patterns on my skin. “A fully bonded pair is harder to separate, politically or magically.”
“Is that why you wanted this tonight?” I asked, a sudden doubt creeping in. “For political advantage?”
He propped himself up on one elbow, his expression serious. “No, Blake. I wanted this—wanted you—because what I feel for you has grown beyond what I can contain. The political advantage is secondary, a fortunate side effect only.”
The sincerity in his eyes banished my momentary doubt. “I believe you,” I said, reaching up to touch his face. “And for what it’s worth… I feel the same way.”
Joy bloomed in his expression, his wings fluttering with obvious pleasure. “You do?”
“Yeah,” I admitted with a small laugh. “Turns out accidentally marrying a fairy prince was the best mistake I ever made.”
He laughed, the sound warm and rich, before leaning down to kiss me softly. “Perhaps not a mistake at all, but destiny.”
“Don’t push it,” I warned, but couldn’t help smiling. “Let’s stick with ‘happy accident’ for now.”
“As you wish,” he agreed, settling back beside me, his wing a comforting weight across my body. “Though I maintain the matchmakers do not make errors.”
As I drifted toward sleep in his arms, I found myself inclined to agree. Whatever strange twist of fate had brought me here, to this realm and this being, felt increasingly like exactly where I was meant to be.