Page 15 of Hell Fae Warden
There was something special about her. Something that had endeared her to me immediately. Not just because she could read Typhos’s book, but because of the way she’d approached her new situation.
She was a fighter.
Confident.
Collected.
Suitable for being a queen.
A queen who refuses to be kept in a cage,I marveled, thinking about how she’d managed to escape the Hell Fae paradigm.But she’ll succumb to my ropes.Because I’d ensure she enjoyed the feel of that silky texture against her skin.
And I’d give her a reason to crawl.
Only in the bedroom, though.
Never outside of it.
She would be ours. Our intended queen. I was almost certain of it. Even if Typhos doubted her. However, he needed a challenge, someone who wasn’t afraid to stand her ground and demand that he bow under certain circumstances.
Such as the one he was currently in with the source.
Typhos needed help. He needed someone capable of balancinghim. And I sincerely hoped Camillia De la Croix could be that someone.
Because I hadn’t proved to be a sufficient enough strength for him. It was nothing either of us had done, just the way fate had played our cards.
I accepted that.
Someday, he would, too.
We needed a circle to maintain the source and ensure our Hell Fae King didn’t truly fall.
I won’t lose you again,I thought, careful not to let the message enter his mind.You’re mine to protect, too, my king. And I’ll do anything to make sure you’re safe.
I kissed his hair and ran my palms up and down his strong back. “Would you like a distraction?” I asked him softly. “Something to take your mind off everything for a little while?”
He sighed again, his palm flexing against my nape. “I don’t deserve you, Melek.”
I smiled. “Then tell me what you do deserve, my king.” I purposely twisted our earlier words, just to show him that I wasn’t upset and that I understood he was hurting and needed an outlet.
I could be that outlet if he indulged in a game I wanted to play, but not if he wanted to use me as a verbal punching bag. However, a physical one where he punished me with his cock was more than acceptable.
“You’ve been in the mood to play with rope,” he hedged. “Because you want to be tied up or because you want to tie up a certain female?”
Typhos was the only one I would ever allow to tie me up. But I typically preferred to be the one wielding the rope. “I keep picturing her decorated in red silk,” I confided. “Under her breasts. Between her legs. Her arms bound behind her back.” A renewed image populated my mind, making me painfully hard beneath my robe.
“Do you want to fantasize while I kneel for you?” Typhos asked, his voice soft against my neck.
“That doesn’t sound like a distraction for you, my king,” I murmured, my fingers trailing down his spine. “I offered you an outlet for a reason.”
“Taking care of you is the distraction I crave.” His lips moved up my throat to my chin. “I need to know that I can still control something.” His mouth whispered along my jaw. “I need to know that I can still keep you safe and make you feel good.”
“You always make me feel good, Ty. And I know I’m safe with you.”
He hummed, his lips moving to softly brush mine. “Prove it to me, little prince. Let me pleasure you while you tell me about your rope fantasy. Maybe it’ll convince me to spare her.”
Now he was teasing me. Because I knew he would do more than spare her. He’d wrap her up in a bow as a gift if I required it. Assuming Azazel could prove her innocence, anyway. Until then, Typhos was unlikely to let me near her, even though I could more than handle myself.
Still, he was giving me an apology in his own way. Letting me revel in my baser needs by thinking about Cami while sharing the intimate details of my desires with my king.
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