Page 6 of Fairy’s Forbidden Touch (Wings & Whispers #2)
He immediately began unfastening the small buttons of his silk shirt, revealing inch by inch of that fascinating opalescent skin.
I helped him with the last few buttons, pushing the fabric off his shoulders.
No matter how many times I saw him like this, the subtle patterns beneath his skin never ceased to amaze me—shifting and pulsing with his emotions, more pronounced when he was aroused.
Once his shirt was discarded, he tugged at the hem of my t-shirt.
I lifted my arms to help him, and he pulled it over my head with more confidence than he’d shown during our first encounter.
His hands immediately went to my chest, cool fingers tracing the contours of muscle and the light dusting of hair that seemed to fascinate him.
“You are always so warm,” he marveled, pressing his palm flat against my heart.
I leaned forward to kiss him again, guiding him until we were lying lengthwise on the couch, his longer body covering mine. The weight and coolness of him was becoming deliciously familiar, as was the way the patterns beneath his skin brightened where our bodies pressed together.
On screen, the movie continued, completely forgotten as we lost ourselves in exploration.
Thalen’s kisses had grown more confident over our time together, and now he took control, deepening the kiss with obvious intent.
His tongue slid against mine as his hands continued their journey across my torso.
When he shifted his hips, I felt his arousal pressing against mine through our pants. The friction drew a low moan from me that he seemed to delight in, deliberately repeating the movement to elicit another response.
“You enjoy that,” he observed, his voice deeper than usual.
“Very observant of you,” I teased, sliding my hands down to cup his ass and pull him more firmly against me.
The subtle patterns beneath his skin flared brighter at the contact, and his pupils dilated until the violet of his eyes was just a thin ring.
Over the past weeks, I’d learned to read these signs of his arousal—the brightening patterns, the dilation of his unusual pupils, the slight parting of his lips.
“I wish to try something new,” he said, a hint of nervousness in his voice despite his obvious desire.
“What did you have in mind?”
Instead of answering, he began to move down my body, pressing cool kisses to my chest, my stomach, following the trail of hair that disappeared into my jeans. When he reached the waistband, he looked up at me with a question in his eyes.
Holy shit, is he offering what I think he’s offering?
“You don’t have to,” I said quickly. “Just because I did it for you doesn’t mean—”
“I want to,” he interrupted. “I have been… thinking about it. Imagining it.”
The idea of Thalen fantasizing about going down on me was almost enough to make me come on the spot. I nodded, not trusting my voice.
With deliberate movements, he unfastened my jeans and began to pull them down along with my boxers. I lifted my hips to help, and soon I was naked on Maya’s couch while a fairy prince knelt between my legs.
If Maya ever finds out about this, she’ll burn the couch.
Thalen studied me with that intense curiosity that never failed to make me feel both exposed and desired. His cool fingers wrapped around my cock, stroking experimentally as he had done before. Then, with determination in his expression, he leaned forward and took me into his mouth.
The sensation was incredible—the coolness of his mouth in contrast to a human’s warmth, the careful way he explored what I liked, the visual of his silver hair falling around his face as he worked. He was inexperienced but enthusiastic, clearly paying attention to my reactions to guide his actions.
“That’s perfect,” I encouraged, my voice strained. “Just like that.”
He hummed in acknowledgment, the vibration sending new sensations through me. One hand maintained a steady rhythm at the base while his mouth worked the head, occasionally pulling back to trace his tongue along the underside.
He’s a quick study, I’ll give him that.
I threaded my fingers through his hair, not guiding but just maintaining contact. The sight of him like this—the untouchable prince on his knees, pleasuring me with such focused attention—was almost too much to process.
“Thalen,” I gasped as he took me deeper. “If you keep that up, I’m going to—”
He pulled back just enough to say, “I want to experience it fully,” then returned to his task with renewed determination.
The combination of his words, the visual, and the physical sensation pushed me toward the edge quickly. I tightened my grip in his hair in warning, but instead of pulling away, he intensified his efforts.
When I came, the patterns beneath his skin flared so brightly they illuminated the dim room.
He stayed with me through it, swallowing with obvious curiosity about the taste and sensation.
Only when I was completely spent did he pull away, looking up at me with an expression of satisfaction and wonder.
“Was that… acceptable?” he asked, a hint of uncertainty beneath the question.
I laughed breathlessly. “More than acceptable. That was amazing for a first attempt.”
He moved back up to lie beside me on the narrow couch, a pleased smile playing at his lips. “I enjoyed it more than I anticipated. The intimacy of it. The control.”
I turned to face him, tracing a finger along the still-glowing patterns on his chest. “I think you might have a dominant streak, Your Highness.”
His eyes darkened at the formal address, confirming my suspicion. “Perhaps. In this context, at least.”
I slid my hand down to the obvious bulge in his trousers. “Would you like me to return the favor?”
He nodded, then glanced at the TV where the movie was now showing the credits. “What about your cultural education plan?”
“Oh, we’re definitely getting to the good parts of human culture now,” I assured him, working at the fastenings of his trousers.
Unlike his usual elaborate clothing, these had simple closures—almost like human designs but with that fae flair for elegant functionality.
I pulled them down along with his undergarments, revealing his arousal.
The patterns beneath his skin were particularly pronounced here, pulsing in time with his heartbeat.
I took him into my mouth without preamble, drawing a sharp gasp from him.
His hands immediately went to my hair, grip tightening as I established a rhythm.
After two weeks of exploration, I knew exactly what he liked—the right pressure, the right speed, when to use my tongue and when to take him deeper.
“Jesse,” he breathed, the musical quality of his voice more pronounced in his pleasure. “The sensations are… overwhelming.”
I hummed in acknowledgment, using one hand to stroke what couldn’t fit in my mouth while the other explored lower, tracing patterns against sensitive skin.
When I looked up, the sight was breathtaking—his head thrown back, silver hair spread across the couch cushions, the patterns beneath his skin pulsing with increasing brightness.
It didn’t take long before I felt the telltale tension in his thighs, the quickening of his breath. When he came, that now-familiar honeyed sweetness filled my mouth, and the room was momentarily bathed in the light from his skin’s patterns.
I moved up to lie beside him again, both of us barely fitting on the narrow couch. He immediately pulled me close, another habit he’d developed—the need for contact after intimacy, as if making up for a lifetime of touch starvation.
“We missed most of the movie,” he observed after a comfortable silence.
I laughed. “We can restart it. Or try something else. We’ve got all weekend.”
His expression turned thoughtful. “I would like that. To spend extended time with you. In your world.”
The simple statement contained volumes. Until now, our time together had been limited to hours—after my shifts or on my days off. The idea of a whole weekend together felt significant somehow.
“We can do whatever you want,” I told him. “Movies, food, just talking… anything.”
He traced a finger along my jaw, a gesture that had become familiar. “I want to learn everything about your life. The human parts of you I don’t yet understand.”
Something warm unfurled in my chest at his words.
This was dangerous territory—developing real feelings for someone so fundamentally different, someone whose world operated by different rules.
But as I looked into those unusual violet eyes, I couldn’t bring myself to care about the potential complications.
“Let’s start with finishing the movie,” I suggested. “Then maybe I’ll teach you how to make pancakes in the morning.”
His face lit up at the suggestion. “I have read about these ‘pancakes’ but never experienced them.”
I kissed him quickly, then reached for the remote to restart the film. “Trust me, it’s a vital part of human cultural education.”
As we settled back to watch the movie properly this time, Thalen’s arm around me and his cool body pressed against mine, I found myself thinking that maybe—just maybe—this particular bad decision might turn out to be the best one I’d ever made.