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twenty-six

Glimmer

S kye stalked forward, his wide steps predatory.

Rain pummeled him, drenching his silver white hair.

His intense stare consumed Heather from the inside out, a hot searing brand upon her skin.

He shook from the adrenaline continuing to course through his system, his chest rising rapidly as each breath sawed through his lungs.

Tempting hints of his flesh showed through his transparent, wet, ivory undershirt.

His sage eyes were black, his pupils having wholly eaten up the green.

Covered in mud and blood, he now resembled the predator she once imagined him upon their first acquaintance.

It wasn’t until this moment that she realized the extent of his self-restraint.

He once described his rash actions as ‘instinct.’ Heather had a feeling she was about to learn what he alluded to.

The male before her was completely untethered, an all-consuming wave breaking free from an artificial dam.

She peered up at him with wide gray eyes, her body laid prone by his two closest companion’s hold on her either side. It was as if she was being sacrificed to an angry god. Deadly but majestic.

“Skye?” The name came out a timid whisper. Perhaps she could break the clutches of his instincts’ grasp.

His gaze held fast. But he didn’t answer or even blink.

Did he hear her? she wondered. Her blood heated, the blush rising from her décolletage up her throat before blooming onto her cheeks.

Heather had been enamored with him at first sight.

Now his mere stare set her insides ablaze, burning all her preconceptions to ash and reducing her to lank need.

He leaned into her and snaked a palm behind her back, taking the nape of her swan-like neck in a firm grip.

The possessive hold searing. His hard chest pressed against her own, creating a teasing friction under her sodden bodice.

Her breaths escaped parted lips in small, shallow pants as he took a long inhale through his nose.

“Is that blood?” As he scented another male’s residual scent, he practically vibrated with anger. A muscle in his jaw ticked. His eyes and wings flaring with unconcealed rage.

He bent low to whisper against the shell of her ear, “The kiss mark on your wrist wasn’t enough. I’ll have to imprint every inch of ye with my lips. All of faerie will know that ye are mine.”

With Tarragon and Rhoden clutching her arms, she knew they had heard his salacious claim.

The knowledge set her further ablaze. Much to her embarrassment, she involuntarily pressed against him.

All restraint slipped from her grasp. They were in the middle of a busy thoroughfare.

Anyone could see what was building between them.

Shockingly, she felt only excitement from her shame.

Skye's wings flared, silver, green, white. The familiar dust began to slip free.

His natural bergamot cologne flooded her senses, over taking all remaining restraint.

He planted his nose at the juncture of her neck and shoulder, pulling a deliberate, deep inhale of her scent.

She fought for breath as her chest strained against the ties of her corset.

Her dress sweltered to her skin, suddenly too tight to draw sufficient air.

Skye further shocked her with a swipe of his hot tongue along the arch of her neck in a slow, leisurely sweep.

Heather went slack in the three’s embrace.

The junction of her thighs throbbed, keeping pace with the pounding pulse of her heart.

So, this is how it felt to be utterly consumed by someone, she realized.

Her legs were on the brink of collapse. With the crisp snap of his long fingers, Heather’s forest green cloak appeared in his hands.

With agility, he wrapped it around her trembling form, pausing at her neck to secure the clasp there.

Skye bent and collected her in his arms, one strong arm under her knees, the other at her back.

With a jolt, he had them airborne, flying swiftly toward home.

“I almost lost my mind. To find ye amidst the worst of faerie, among thieves, liars and killers. What were ye thinking, Heather?” He growled in a chilling voice, baring pointy canines.

“I would have torn them all to pieces, and then myself, if they had hurt ye. Failing to protect my bride would have shamed me beyond recovery.” His powerful arms tightened around her, but she remained unshaken.

She embraced his neck, choosing not to utter a response.

Heather hadn’t realized the excessive danger.

His fierce care for her was life altering. A wholly new experience.

They arrived at the castle balcony before she could comprehend.

He burst through the panel doors, striding across the chamber, before setting her gently upon the feathered mattress.

Like a whip, his hand snapped her cloak clasp free, causing it to collapse onto the bedding.

Standing, he bent over her, clasped her nape, and spoke against her lips.

“Undress. The only thing I want to see you wearing is my dust on your skin.” His now dark feral eyes full of possession. She desired nothing more than him. She had become a puddle of need upon the bed. With trembling fingers, she reached behind her and loosened her bodice.

It scarcely fell from her body before a flash of green light made the garment disappear completely, leaving her in a thin shift.

She hastily kicked off her slippers. She gathered the hem of it, pausing briefly to gather her courage as well.

Heather whipped it up over head in one fail swoop, revealing miles of bare creamy skin.

Skye’s breath caught audibly. She lay back on her forearms, her knees bent together, clad only in her silk stockings and pink ribbon garters.

A look of intense hunger emanated from his eyes as they traversed her curves.

“Now you.” Heather demanded huskily. Skye growled low and stalked closer. His boots already removed, he reached and pulled his tunic free. The tight muscles of his abdominals contracted as he moved.

Heather bit her lower lip. He was too beautiful for words. His wide chest tapered into a smooth, well defined narrow waist. She’d snuck a glimpse or two of a few peasants, bathing in the river at home, but it had not prepared her for this male.

Mayhap the knights she so seldom saw could have been half as physically fit.

The only comparison she could draw was the marble sculpture in the late queen’s rose garden.

Heather wanted to worship at the altar of Skye’s feet.

She’d crawl to make this magnificent male happy.

His aroused shaft stood powerfully erect.

He ran his hand leisurely over it as he took in the scene of her revealed before him.

Crawling across the bed towards her, Skye then held himself aloft on his hands and knees.

He gingerly captured her jaw, before stroking a hand through her dark hair.

Green glimmer lit up his palms, flaring auroras of light.

He was examining her for wounds, she realized.

The scent of blood remained faint on her skin.

“Do ye know how beautiful ye are to me?” He whispered, running his shimmering fingers over the planes of her face.

Her eyes fluttered closed with the caress.

His hands continued to whisper over her, down her shoulders, where he halted to knead her breasts, dragging his thumb over the hardened peaks there.

His effervescent powder leaving a tell-tale path in their wake down her torso.

His green dust coated her skin, glittering like stardust.

His touch roamed lower. He leaned down and left a trail of sparkling sage kisses.

His mouth trailed over her collarbone, before descending and capturing a taunt, dusky pink nipple between his lips.

The tug of the wet heat felt as if it connected to the bud between her legs.

Beating in time with her pounding heart.

She bucked her hips against him, seeking release.

His thick fingers delved into the sensitive flesh there, rubbing soft circles into the delicate area.

She let out a shuddering breath, and he growled low.

His wings fluttered rapidly at his back.

With his other hand, he clasped her nape, forcing her to look him in the eye, “Did ye hear me? Do ye know?” He paused his ministrations between her thighs, continuing to arrest her gaze with his.

She released a quivering breath, returned his fierce eye contact, and nodded.

His fingers sank into the heat of her sex.

He captured her mouth with an open-mouthed kiss, muffling the sound of her moan.

She thrummed with fever, his fingers slippery, sliding in and out.

He broke the kiss and settled back, attention captivated by the movements of his hands.

Heather watched as his eyes hooded and enveloped into a black abyss, his primal pixie victorious.

He began to glow, motes of green dust drifting from his wings.

He bent and lowered his mouth to her sensitive flesh.

His efforts were well met. Waves of pleasure washed through her, and she undulated her hips in the rhythm of his hand as he added a finger.

She bit her lip, aiming to not cry out, but she couldn’t hold back any longer.

She threaded her fingers through his hair as her core quivered.

He flapped his wings, dust motes escaping them.

The green aura swirling around the bed. They slowly crystallized, solidified and turned white, encasing the lovers in a cloudy cocoon.

Bergamot filled Heather’s nostrils. She breathed it in deeply, feeling her body go languid in the heat of Skye’s hold.

Rising from his knees he lowered himself above, lining his body with hers.

She ran her palms over the strong plains of his pristine chest, snaking her right hand to trace the sharp ‘v’ of his abdominals.

He positioned his considerable length at her slit.

“I meant what I said. Ye are mine, and I am yours, on my knees, begging.”

He paused, questioning whether she was prepared.

She nodded wordlessly. The tip of his shaft was slowly enveloped deep.

Gently, he rocked his hips into her as he shuddered and closed his eyes, overwhelmed by pleasure.

Her fingers dug into the taunt muscles of his torso, urging him deeper, faster.

His pubic bone pressed into her, startling her with the realization she desired more.

She cried out as his pace increased. He panted above, and she took great satisfaction from the bliss on his face.

Lost in rhythmic rapture, he shut his eyes, his hair drooping low on his forehead.

She moved beneath him in tandem. His head fell back, exposing the strong column of his throat.

It looked good enough to bite. For some reason, she wanted to sink her teeth into the flesh of his neck.

She placed a whisper of a kiss on his clavicle instead.

He adjusted his grip, shifting so that his fingers sank into her nape, the other hand grasping at the curve of her ass.

His wings fluttered so much that he lifted their joined forms off the bed.

A wide smile graced her face as she mentally compared the position to the scene in the mating book.

Licking her lips, she drew the lower one between her teeth.

It was then that Skye shifted and hit a particularly delicious spot deep inside.

She gasped, wanting to rear up against him.

She struggled, unable to do so since she was dangling in the air, her only tether- his hands.

His wings slowed, allowing them to glide back down into the feathered mattress with ease. She locked her lips to the base of his throat, determined to leave a mark of her own on him.