Page 16 of Brutal Fae King (Dark Faevea King #1)

My head is cradled on either side by fluffy softness. I slowly come back to myself, starting with feeling my face embraced by something furry. Then, my fingers and toes begin coming back to me, sensation creeping inward until I feel the comfort I’m lying in.

I’m so comfortable…

Something cold touches my forehead—it gives me a little shock as it touches on me, and I flinch. Sound reaches me, completely muffled.

Because of the softness around my head? Or am I still coming back to consciousness, and my hearing hasn’t come back?

I just wait, and more feeling trickles back into my body. After a while, I start to see some light behind my eyes. I take a deep breath and summon the strength to open my eyes.

At first, it’s all dim blurs of color. I blink hard, and all becomes clear.

I’m in my room, and it seems to be evening time now. I’m tucked up in bed, with something fluffy folded under my neck to keep my head up. Cold spreads over my forehead, and I look up to see the king dabbing a wet cloth on my face.

When I look at him, he sighs in relief.

“Ah! You’re finally awake!”

“Vicmar,” I murmur quietly.

“So I wasn’t inventing it,” he chuckles. “You did say my name. I wasn’t sure you even knew it.”

I smile wanly.

“Of course I knew it,” I say. “Just like you knew my name but didn’t use it before.”

He chuckles lightly.

“Touché,” he says.

I start to struggle into a sitting position, but Vicmar puts a hand on my shoulder and presses me down.

“No,” he says. “Be careful. You must be exhausted.”

“Not that exhausted,” I say. “I feel all right.”

He releases his hand from my shoulder, and I sit up.

“What happened?” I ask. “We were talking and…” I clear my throat. “And my powers went out of control for some reason.”

“Well,” he says. “my guess would be that you’ve been repressing your powers for a long time.”

I hang my head. He nods at me.

“I thought so,” he answers. “Repressing your powers is terrible for your magical control. For your powers to explode like that, I’d guess that you’ve seldom used them throughout your entire life.”

I smile weakly, my hands clenching on the duvet.

“I didn’t have a choice. I only used my powers a few times in Thawallow, and I became a pariah,” I murmur. “If I used them much more, they might have run both myself and my family out of the village. I couldn’t do that to Maribelle.”

Vicmar sighs deeply. He dips the cloth into a bucket by the bedside and spends a second wringing it out before he looks at me with a firmer gaze.

“You can’t keep doing that,” he says firmly. “Here in the castle, you will not be treated like a pariah for using your powers—if anything, I encourage you to use them; repressing them for so long could do a lot of damage to yourself or even get yourself killed.” He reaches forward and dabs the wet cloth against my forehead.

I don’t answer. The wet cloth is very soft, but what’s even softer is his eyes, looking over me gently.

I… don’t remember the last time someone cared for me… Has anyone ever cared for me?

I just lie for a second, my eyes scanning over his strong jaw, his sharp features, and his eyes, looking over me… his lips…

A spark jolts out under the duvet. Vicmar blinks and looks down, then back to me.

“Are your powers still out of control?” he asks.

“N-no. I’m fine.”

He doesn’t say anymore, but he looks down at me. Those lips pull up in another smile and sensation flickers across my own lips—that stubble on his jaw, scraping deliciously against my lips as I-

There’s another spark from under the covers. He chuckles lightly and removes the cloth from my forehead. I close my eyes for a moment.

Concentrate. Control the powers.

I change the subject as a way to distract myself.

“Why are you here?”

“What do you mean?” Vicmar asks, wringing the cloth out.

“I mean… why are you here instead of the castle staff?” I ask. “A king doesn’t have to do this.”

“Perhaps,” Vicmar says, dropping the cloth back into the bucket. “But a husband has to when his wife’s sick.”

He leans a hand forward and presses his bare palm against my forehead. My stomach flicks at the contact, and there’s another spark under the covers. Vicmar notices again and chuckles for a moment before the hand on my forehead moves to the side of my face.

I catch my breath. Another spark scatters under the duvet.

“Well, your fever seems to be gone,” he says. “You were burning up a short while ago, but now, you seem to be much better…”

He keeps his hand on my face, so gently…

“Th-thank you,” I answer, struggling to fight down the feeling boiling in my stomach.

Vicmar smiles.

“It’s fine. I’m just pleased that you’re better,” he purrs, then looks down for a moment before he says. “I don’t know how much you remember before you lost consciousness, but I am sorry for how I’ve been treating you whilst I was suspicious of your motives.”

Vicmar sits closer to me. I’m tingling, so very aware of his hand on my face still.

“You can be happy here—and to apologize, and as your husband, I will make sure you will be happy here.”

Is this the same man who was acting so cruelly earlier?

“Why are you being so kind?” I breathe.

Vicmar gives me the saddest smile.

“You said that you couldn’t remember the last time you were happy because you were too busy taking care of your sister,” he murmurs. “I have never understood anything more.”

I don’t answer at first. It takes me a moment to try and put my thoughts into words.

“I didn’t know you… were compassionate like that.”

It feels so very insufficient, but he smiles and answers:

“I feel I am,” he says. “Or was… I doubt anyone remembers when I was the nice king… But it was a fool’s route, the nice route. The compassionate one. It left more people dead and suffering than I ever wanted… Sometimes, I can’t believe I act like such a jaded monster, but other times, it doesn’t surprise me at all what it’s made me.”

My stomach gives another flutter. I swallow hard.

“I… don’t think you’re a monster,” I murmur.

His eyes soften. His lips part. His own hand presses a little harder on my face.

A flicker of pleasure crashes through me. Another spark crashes through me—and out into the air. Vicmar flinches. His fingers clench on my cheek as he jumps.

“Sorry!” I yelp.

“It’s okay,” he says throatily. “I can handle it. I’m just pleased you seem happy.”

“Happy?” I ask.

A smirk ghosts over his face.

“You know that powers tend to spark up when you feel strong, excitable emotions?” he says. “Anger… excitement…”

I feel like the last emotion he was going to say dances on his lips, but he doesn’t quite say it. I see it in his hooded, desirous gaze. He leans forward, and I get another breathful of his wonderful musk.

“Let me see how your powers are reacting,” he murmurs, his warm hands brushing over my shoulders and draping the duvet down.

My stomach jolts harder. Electricity dances around me—sparks bouncing on the bed as I’m revealed.

“W-wait-!” I breathe.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “You won’t hurt me. I just want to see how they’re reacting.”

He pulls the remainder of the duvet off, and I am in my thin nightdress. Sparks dance around me, bouncing around like stones skipping on the surface of a lake.

“That looks normal,” he says lightly.

“ Normal? ” I gasp. “What about this is—?”

His finger touches my lips. A pulse of arousal pulses through me.

“It’s okay,” he purrs. “Don’t speak; you’ll rile yourself up. Just breathe. Calm down, and so will your powers.”

I do breathe, but that doesn’t help; his scent flows down my throat, making my mouth water.

“I-I can’t!” I whisper. “Not whilst you’re touching me!”

Vicmar laughs at the back of his throat.

“Then… perhaps you can calm down after I stop touching you?” he purrs.

My heart is hammering in my chest. I’m panting. Little flickers of pleasure skitter up and down my body. The sparks still dance.

“Maybe, but… don’t stop touching me yet,” I beg breathlessly against the finger on my lips.

He gives the lightest sigh at the back of his throat, and he moves up. He’s so close to me that my eyes close. I drink in his scent greedily, and I feel his body heat radiating into mine. The finger slides away from my lips, and I open my mouth. Then, his lips press on mine.

I gasp on his mouth. My arms snap around him—one hand moves onto the back of his head and grabs his hair in a thick fistful. My other hand moves to his lower back, my fingers crawling through the barrier of clothing until I can reach his warm skin.

A groan rumbles in his chest. He pushes into me. His tongue pushes past my lips, warm and wet, as it seeks out mine. His tongue slowly brushes around inside my mouth.

A moan builds in my chest and then escapes me. He groans.

His arms wind around me fully, and soft warmth brushes my face. I gasp and break the kiss to look. His wings have spread around me, touching my cheek as he encloses me. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a fae’s wing so close – how the light shines through them, lighting them up in gold. His soft lips move down to my neck, drifting down my skin. There’s the smallest sting on my neck—a nibble. Pleasure cracks through me—and sparks fly around us. Vicmar flinches a little, his entire warm body grinding against mine for a second. I feel another bolt of pleasure when his body hits mine, and I arch into him.

“S-sorry,” I gasp, “I- I didn’t mean to…”

A dark chuckle rumbles through him, vibrating on my chest where his body is pressed on mine. Tingling spreads through my nipples—they harden under his body.

“Don’t worry,” he growls. “You can’t hurt me… I think I even like it.”

His attractive purr sends another wave of pleasure through me—another sigh escapes me.

His hands move. One falls down to the hem of my dress and moves under it. His hot fingers drift up my bare thigh—leaving a warm streak up my skin where he touches. I can’t believe how hot his body is, pressing so hard into mine. It’s like his skin is burning hot, a slick sheen of sweat building on mine as he grinds into me. Another purring, throaty laugh rumbles through his chest, and he takes his time. His fingers pinch into my thigh and drag down… Just that tiny sting of pain sweetens the pleasure – I start squirming, but he grabs me and holds me still. I hear the crackle of more sparks and feel his muscles clench and relax as he’s hit.

His lips move back to my ear, his warm breath fanning across me as he speaks:

“Yes… more of that. Give me more!”

I can’t speak back; too much pleasure has swelled in my chest – it’s all I can do to whimper in desire as his hands move up my body. His hands brush my skin as he takes off my dress. Once I’m naked, I can feel large, soft wings pressing into my back, holding me up as his hands move to my naked breasts. His hands take hold of my chest, and a spark of arousal ricochets up me as his fingers brush over my nipples. I’m still gripping his hair, and I pull him down to me. I kiss him hard, and he moans into my mouth, his fingers still rubbing my nipples.

An aroused yelp escapes me when his fingers touch on my nipples. He gives a low growl as I squirm under him, in time with his thumbs slowly moving around and around.

“Mm… Here, is it?” He purrs, “Is that making you spark?”

I open my mouth to reply – nothing comes out but another breathless moan. He chuckles gently, then his head dips down. His wings stand erect in my vision, soft and golden.

But then the sharpest sting of pleasure yet forces my eyes closed.

Yes! Yes! Oh, gods!

The orgasm building in the pit of my stomach leaps up a few notches as his soft, wet tongue curls around my nipples. Slowly. Gently. Every small motion of his tongue scatters sharp pleasure through me – my legs kick out. My hips buck, and grind against his as his tongue moves. Then, the most delicate pinch of pain through me. His teeth close on my hard nipple – just enough to nibble me. A shriek of arousal breaks free from me. I judder out of control. I try to say his name but pleasure garbles me.

Sparks dance around us both. He twitches and moans as each spark hits him. He gives a purring laugh, and his wings tighten around me. His sweet mouth leaves my nipple and I hear myself give a weak sound of pleasure and disappointment when he does. His wicked grin widens when he hears how much I want him.

His hands move down to my body and offsets me, tipping me over until I’m on my back, spread on my soft bed.

I open my eyes, and I see Vicmar lean up, halfway through taking off his shirt. As he pulls it off, his wings springing free last, I scan my eyes down the warrior’s physique. He has sharp abs I could chip a nail on, small scars puckering his skin in short streaks. His wings look golden and angelic in this lighting, and his eyes shine. He towers over me at first, sitting back on his knees. He sees me ogling him and gives a wide grin. Then, he leans down toward me. I arch up desirously as he lowers down, my eager hands reaching for him. Sparks zap all around us. I see each little bolt of lightning as it cascades from my hand, dances across the sheets, then hits him. It’s like magnetism; they just seem drawn to him. I watch it closely, and see how his abs tighten when a spark hits them. I reach forwards, and just press my hands on his chest. I feel his muscles tense under my hands, my power flowing directly into him. A deep, guttural moan spills out of him into my ear – the sound of his pleasure sends tremors through me.

Yes… I love hearing you moan.

I try to focus a little – and I pump just a little extra power into my hands. Vicmar gives another cry of pain and pleasure, and I feel him sink a little.

I find myself in his chest, and I lean up to kiss his throat. It’s salty in the lightest sheen of sweat on him. I drape my tongue slowly up his throat, and his moan vibrates across my tongue. His arms move around me, but I move up to his ear:

“Vicmar!” I gasp, “Pl-please! I need you! Now!”

He gives a groan in reply. I grab the top of his waistband and start pulling at them desperately. I don’t succeed, but his hands move to his buckle. Once he’s free, he leans down and presses his lips on mine, his tongue caressing mine again. As he does, his hands press against both my inner thighs. He pushes my legs open, and I let him.

I wait. I ache, and I wait.

Then—

He impales me with one smooth motion, shuddering pleasure scattering up me as he pushes inside me, the chamber inside my body tingling sharply—so sharply that the pleasure is almost pain. So very untouched until now, but now sparkling with every inch he pushes in.

I stutter, whimpering as he gifts me with the last little bit of length, then starts to drag out.

Every motion sends another bolt of arousal through me, collecting together to build an orgasm in me.

“Oh! Oh, gods! Vic-Vic-Vicmar!”

He growls in pleasure. He keeps pulling out, holds for a moment, then thrusts hard in. A crash of pleasure. There’s a flash behind my eyes. I moan again, my back arching.

His hands move to either side of my head, boxing me in. There’s nothing else in the world right now except him. His heat, his scent – and him being inside me. He starts moving faster. Faster. The arousal swirls, crashing around me like a building whirlpool. My eyes roll back in my head. I can’t breathe. There’s too much pleasure filling me. His chest is pressing on me, slick with a little sweat. His heart hammers in his chest. I lean forward and lick his sweaty skin. He moans as salt spreads over my tongue. My hands move to grip his back—touch his wings. He cries out sharply, then leans to my ear:

“Touch my wings!” he hisses at me.

I grab his wings hard with both hands. They’re soft, like the rest of his skin, and I rake my fingernails down them like I would his back. He growls in pleasure. He thrusts into me harder.

Harder. Faster. The pleasure builds. Builds. It’s swelling. It’s filling me. The pleasure keeps building.

And… And… Oh, gods, I can’t take it!

Yes!

I burst. My hips buck up as the orgasm explodes in me. I cry out, my eyes rolling back in my head. I grip his wings harder. Vicmar cries out, his orgasm ringing in my ears. His hands move to me and tighten..

It pulses through me in heat, and then I melt into the bed. Vicmar pants for a moment, then sits back and pulls out. Once he has, I feel his body slide against mine and lie next to me.

For a moment, we just pant, deliciously spent. Then, his laugh rumbles through his chest, shuddering through my back.

“See? Didn’t I tell you?” he purrs. “I told you your powers would calm down if you found a way to relax. Now you’ve… had some release, the sparking has stopped.

I just laugh lightly and let my head drop on the pillow.

“So it has,” I sigh quietly.

Vicmar starts shuffling, and I grab his arm and pull it to me.

“No,” I say quietly. “Stay. You said you were going to take care of your wife, right? So stay here and take care of me.”

He laughs quietly. Then he settles down behind me, looping one arm around my waist, the other around my shoulders, and then pulls me close to him. As I slot perfectly against his body, I slip back to sleep again.

And I’m fairly sure I’ve never been more comfortable in my life.