He surprised her by kicking off his sandals and climbing to sit cross-legged in front of her on the bed.
“I had our cook prepare everything I saw you enjoy … and then one or two of my favorite Dravo dishes … so you could try them …”
He dug into what looked like a pastry filled with stew and plopped a spoonful of the delicious ingredients into her mouth.
She savored it with her eyes closed and then looked at him. “Oh … that is amazing … no meat …?”
“No meat, all vegetables,” he said before eating from the same spoon.
They ate, tasted, laughed, and fed each other, and Royce felt her entire being come alive. She wanted him, needed him, had to have him, and yet, she thought sadly, he was keeping her still at a distance.
“So …” She decided to question him out of the blue. “You have never taken a bride—or even … wanted children?”
“As to children … aye, I do want them … but, like the Fae, immortality has made that a difficult task. Besides, don’t want ’em unless I could be there … with their mother raising them.” He shrugged. “We Milesians count ourselves lucky when we are able to conceive.”
“And no woman ever made ye want to … settle down and have children with her?” She tried to sound casual but felt her words had come out stilted.
He regarded her for a long moment and then said on a very grim note, “I have never discussed the subject—really discussed—it with anyone, but I will tell ye this, Princess Royce of the House of Nimrough: M’da … well, he worshipped m’mother. They were bonded through time …” He shook his head. “When he lost her … if he dinna have m’sister and me—though I was a man full grown—I believe he would have ended his own life.”
“How long ago was that?” she asked softly, her heart aching for Chance’s father, wondering about him.
“Five centuries ago. Och … he is a man and takes relief, but, no … he has never gotten over her loss. He aches for her. He no longer says so, but
I
see it.” Chance shrugged. “I doona ever want to suffer that …”
“How did he lose her if she was immortal?”
Chance eyed her for one long, suspended moment. “I doona want to speak of it now.” He got up and slipped back into his sandals. “Eat … then, if ye be up to it, lass … take a hot bath, and then get some rest. I’ll be back in an hour or so—doona fret. Ye are safe, mark me on it.”
“Chance …” She suddenly reached out and winced with the shot of pain that traveled through her. “Don’t go …”
He went to her immediately and brought her hand to his lips. “Och lass … don’t move so roughly. I’ll be back before ye’ll realize I’m gone.”
“I shall miss you the moment you walk away …” she said on a soft, low note.
“Och lass … doona want me, doona think of me like that. I am not worthy of ye,” he said and left her alone.
She lay back with a sigh and thought about all she had just learned about Chancemont LeBlanc. Well, well, he liked her more than he wanted to think about—at least she hoped he did.
She looked at the tray; the plates were nearly empty, and she made quick work of completing the job. Then she set the tray table aside and got to her feet.
He was right—she needed a soak.
She ran the water, turned on the jets, and because it was soothing she brushed her hair free of the knots that had collected. Then she sank into the soothing bubbles and lay back.
She was healing
.
She could feel the power surging back into her body—
his
power. He had helped her heal faster. Did he love her? Was that what it meant? She rolled her eyes at herself. “Sure,” she said out loud, “he needs you now—you’re a pretty good team member … proven, and he needs your help to find Pestale.” That was all there was to it, and she was heading for a great big fall if she read more into it than there was.
Did it matter? Did it matter what he felt? She knew what she felt. She knew what she wanted—
him.
She ran the soapy washcloth over her body and remembered. He had soaped her down …
He had seen her naked. The notion made her clench her thighs together with the excitement that raced to her nerve endings.
“That’s right,” she told herself on a whisper. “He saw you naked and walked away. Clearly you don’t measure up to the women he has had …”
She sighed and closed her eyes. Could she look into the future? Would she see Chance in her future—would she feel Chance kissing her, holding her, making wild, hungry love with her?
She concentrated, and something began to filter through, but it wasn’t Chance—it was
Pestale’s face!
She gasped and shook herself free of the vision as she sat up.
It was a vision, only a vision.
She sank back into the water and started thinking of Chance once more. Her hands moved over her body as she thought of his smile …
Chance stood in the curved arch of the bathroom suite’s door, huge and dripping with sexual magnetism. Seeing him, Royce arched her back.
“Och lass … doona …” he said.
She continued to slide her hands over her wet body and fingered her nipple as she softly called his name. “Chance …?”
He was on her, out of control, saying in a hushed voice, “Lass … lass … there is just so much a man can bear!”
He scooped her out of the warm water and carried her dripping wet to the bed, heedless of all else save one thing!
He flung off his clothes and bent to kiss her, at first brushing her lips with his as though she might break. She pressed her mouth against his and parted her lips for his tongue, and that was all that was needed. His tongue found hers and lapped at its velvet texture with a hunger she matched and had not realized she was capable of feeling.
“Och beauty …” he whispered as he pulled away and lifted his head to look at her face. “I doona know how ye could be more perfect … I—”
She silenced him as she reached for his face and brought it to hers; her tongue dove into his mouth to caress his own.
His kiss blasted all her inhibitions to the winds. She wanted him, and she showed him as she pressed her body up to meet his. He threw off his black boxers and climbed onto the bed to embrace her fully. “I … doona let me hurt ye … are ye healed enough …” he said on a hushed note as he kissed her neck and brought his lips to her ear.
Savage need drove her to thrust against him in answer to his question. She heard him respond with a feral sound and knew he was driven.
Her body demanded, and she felt a primal need driving every movement she made. He broke away again from his kiss and looked at her fully, whispering huskily, “Och love, ye are so tasty … I could dine on ye forever …”
His fingers worked her hard ripe, nipple, teasing and playing. He brought up his palm and told her hungrily, “Lick it, love … lick m’palm …”
She did, and then she arched when he rubbed it against one nipple, licked it himself, and then rubbed it against the other. “Damn … damn …” tore out of him before he bent and began suckling at her breasts, fondling them as she thumped herself against his rock hardness.
He stood away, and she opened her eyes to gaze at the size and breadth of his cock and licked her lips. His face a mask of desire, he bent towards her and said, “Hold it … rub it against yer nipples … ye take control …”
She groaned with pleasure as she did what she had never done before. These were all firsts for Princess Royce.
She stroked it, rubbing the head on herself, and then brought her lips to it and suckled there before licking its length. It throbbed and danced to her ministrations, and he moaned with pleasure.
He gently placed her back down, positioned it at her mouth, and whispered, “Aye then, ’tis yers, sweet lass … suck it … suck it hard …”
And when she did, she felt her body build a tension that riveted her with the ultimate pleasure until she exploded with a small scream that ripped out of her as she climaxed.
He pulled away and grinned with satisfaction before he whispered,
“
Now then …
”
The next thing she knew he was kissing, nibbling, licking his way down her belly to the tuft of red hair at her apex, holding it with one hand while his long fingers spread the lips apart. “Such a pretty love nest …” he said softly, and he bent his head between her thighs, found the nub, and pleasured it with his textured tongue.
She arched again and groaned, “Yes … oh hell, yes … that … do that …”
He added a finger and began working her, vibrating the cleft, licking and nibbling. She felt it build up inside her, and release … release for her meant nearly sobbing out his name.
“Chance … oh …
Chance
!”
* * *
Chance was consumed with desire.
His life had been long, and many beauties had filled his mind and tickled his lust, but this …
this
was something that had conquered all logic, torn down all defenses … beat at his heart for relief.
The wee Fae princess was all he could think about. His dick was ever hard for her. He had but to think her name, which was all the damn time, and it would throb uncomfortably in his leather pants, egging him to take her! She wanted taking—he saw it, felt it, so why shouldn’t he take her?
He wanted to taste her, feel her, touch her, ram his hard-on deep inside her and never leave.
There was more to it than her beauty.
He had known that almost at once: the danger of ‘forever’ lurked in her eyes. Could he give forever?
Aye, but everything about her caught his eye. Her flaming red hair begged his hands to grab and hold and bring her to him. Her eyes drew him as no other before her ever had.
And still, there was more, so much more. She made him
feel
… feel things he had not thought he was capable of feeling. She made him forget his determination to never commit to any one woman. She made him laugh and hope, and … she made him see possibilities outside himself.
Aye, he wanted her beyond words. He wanted to ravage her and fill her with pleasure. He wanted her to climax under his care, because of his touch, and then he wanted to make her go off again and again. When she did, it was a pleasure he had never experienced before in his life.
He was filled with exultation.
He had fulfilled her.
And he discovered it was all he wanted to do.
He also discovered he was in trouble.
He suddenly realized how his world would be turned upside down.
Och,
he told himself, he was losing who he was in this wee bit of Royal Fae, and he was happy for it—ecstatic because of it.
When he had seen her in the tub, when he saw her touch herself, he knew control with her was a thing of the past. He had to have her, cost be damned!
He had laid her soaking wet body on the bed and thought himself in paradise.
She
was his paradise. She was the piece of the puzzle he had been looking for all his life.
He kissed her, and as his tongue touched hers he knew in that moment he no longer was his own man—not without her in his life.
He had to have her. He had to make her love him—want him.
He drove his finger into her warm, wet cavity and reveled in the feel, in the scent. When he licked her sensitive area and she groaned with ecstasy, he nearly turned into a savage beast. He almost rammed into her then and there. Somehow, he stopped himself because he wanted,
needed
,
to
make love
to her … take his time with her, linger over her exquisite body.
When had this happened? How? She was a Royal Fae—not meant to mate with a Milesian. Look at him now—hadn’t he told Lana she couldn’t be with Trevor because he was a Fae … and now—now what was he doing?
He didn’t care anymore. He didn’t care that she was a Royal Fae … that he was a Milesian and that no good could possible come of this day’s work!
All he cared about was the silk of her skin, the sweet vanilla of her tongue, the lavender and pine of her natural scent. All he cared about was the measure of her mind and the bright aura of her essence.
His kind had often declared that Fae had no souls, but she had one that glowed brightly for anyone to see. Her essence was a sunbeam, rays of bright shades of aqua glittered in her eyes, and they were always so full with emotion.
He wanted her for all time, but he knew it would never do. His people would object, but he didn’t give a rat’s ass! He was going to make her his—damn all else.
He took pleasure in pleasuring her; he was moved to the point of climax as he enticed her with his deft fingers.
He brought up her knees, and his dick rested in the fluff of her pretty nest. He took her hand and ran it over his hard, throbbing length. “
Want that
… want it now, beauty, och my beauty, how I want ye?”
“Now … yes, yes … now …” she said on a hushed note of desire.
She moved and bumped at him and ground herself against him, and he knew he was bloody damn well out of control. She infused his body with heat. His blood bubbled and spelled out her name as he positioned his cock and rubbed it against her opening. “Och lass, ye be so warm and wet … so perfect …” he whispered as he entered.