Big, Bad Red (Fairy True 2)

She slipped her fingers away and sank them into Liam’s thick hair, pulling him deeper into her. So close. So fucking close.

He made some sort of twisty move with his fingers that took her so high, her lungs forgot how to function before he lifted his mouth from her, leaving her teetering on the edge of orgasm. It took a minute to claw her way through the fog of lust. The Liam she saw when she opened her eyes was a stranger. Hungry. Hard. Hot. There wasn’t just a feral air to him, he was wild.

“I want to be inside you when you come.” His fingers dropped to his zipper.

Unable to wait any longer, she slapped his hands out of the way and made quick work of getting his pants open and halfway down his hips, revealing his long, hard cock already wet at the tip. She leaned forward and licked him clean. He sucked in a ragged breath and his hands fisted. She doubted she’d be able to take all of him in her mouth at once, but damn she wanted to try—next time. Right now, she needed him somewhere else. “Who said I couldn’t come more than once?”

“Who said you weren’t going to?” He shucked his pants the rest of the way off and retrieved a condom from his wallet and rolled it on.

Fates preserve her because she was going to hold him to that even if she spontaneously combusted during the process.

He gripped her hips and pulled her to the table’s edge. Looking down at her, his face softened and he hesitated with the head of his cock at her entrance. “I don’t know what’s going to happen after tonight.”

“When does anyone ever know that? We just have to work with what we’ve got.” She wrapped her legs tight around his lean hips and drew him forward until he filled her completely. “And tonight I’m glad I have you.”

Whether it was her words or the feel of her surrounding him, whatever darkness that had made him hesitate evaporated. After that, they both gave up thinking. The whys, the hows, the what ifs—they’d deal with them tomorrow. For once the fates had thrown something good her way and she was going to grab hold of it with both hands.

With each withdraw and thrust, the need grew, curling tighter in her stomach. She arched her back and he pushed inside her deeper, rubbing up against the bundle of nerves and pushing her higher. Colors danced on the edge of her vision as the vibrations took over her body. “Liam, if you stop now, I’m going to kill you.”

The bastard had the gall to chuckle in the middle of fucking her into oblivion. “Oh we’re not even close to done yet.” He slid his hands under her ass, each finger digging deep as he lifted her so only her shoulders touched the table. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be done with you, Red.”

He pulled her up and forward in his arms until she was boob to chest with him, her hard nipples rubbing against his pecs. Fucking while standing up had never been one of her favorite positions, but Liam was big enough and strong enough to make her feel secure. Then again, maybe it had nothing to do with his size, but with him.

Holding on to his broad shoulders, she twisted her hips, bringing her clit in contact with his pubic bone. That was all it took. She climaxed hard and fast without warning, screaming Liam’s name as the world turned Technicolor and her muscles dissolved.

One long, deep thrust and his orgasm hit. His entire body tightened and he squeezed her close as he buried himself to the hilt.

“I need more time.” He whispered the words into the crook of her neck as he sank down to the bench seat, taking her with him.

The urge to ask him what he meant hovered on the edge of her consciousness, but the need to know couldn’t compete against the warmth of his skin and the heaviness of her eyelids as she basked in the comfort she’d found in Liam’s arms.

Chapter Seven

The first light blues of dawn painted the sky outside Granny’s Pub and Liam sat fighting off the last vestiges of sleep weighing down his eyelids and slowing his breath. He refused to give in to it. Dawn would break soon, the streetlamps would flicker off, the magical force field bubble would pop, and the clock would count off the last hours of the love spell keeping Red tied to him.

He should tell her the truth, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He’d had plenty of chances last night before he’d lain down on the booth seat with her draped over him like a blanket and his arms curled around her, holding her tight. Still, he hadn’t been able to say the words. Now his time with her was nearly up and he didn’t have the balls to admit it to her. What had he told Max the other day? That no one messed with a bad ass like him? Glancing down at Red, her eyes closed and her breathing soft, he realized just how fucking clueless he’d been.

“If you don’t stop thinking so hard, you are going to disturb my beauty rest,” Red groused, barely moving her lips to get the words out.

Liam swore he could hear a stopwatch ticking in the background and it twisted him up inside. It may not be no-need-for-a-spell love for either of them yet, but it could be—a possibility he hadn’t considered before meeting Red and couldn’t stop thinking about now.

“Don’t tell me you’re not a morning person.” He kept his tone light, but the stiffening in her limbs said she’d noticed the undercurrent anyway.

“What gave it away?” She cracked her eyelids and stuck out her tongue. “You thinking about how we’re going to track down Derry and get your sword back before you go forever furry?”

Grabbing ahold of that excuse with both hands rather than admit what he’d really been thinking, he nodded. “Do you really think he’d take it to the king?”

She sat up, the pinks and blues of almost-dawn highlighting her skin and giving it a warm, gossamer appearance, as if a photographer had worked hours to get the light just right and the camera focus soft enough to show her at her best. But Red didn’t need all of that. All it took to make her look perfect was her hair going haywire from spending the night snuggled against his chest, sleep creases that went from her jaw to her razor-sharp cheekbones and the upturn to her full lips promising a smartass comment was on its way.

“Derry got something like a bazillion on his SATs, but he flunked the school of hard knocks. Twice.” She grabbed her phone and punched in some numbers. “I knew he couldn’t keep news like this to himself. Lookie here.”

It took a lot to get him to turn his attention from the freckles across her shoulders that he’d tried to count last night after she’d had her fifth orgasm and onto the phone she held out, but he managed it. She had pulled open her Fairybook social media account and scrolled the latest updates in her newsfeed, stopping on one photo. There was no mistaking the man in it or the sword he held. Derry stood in front of the Royal Flush Toilet Emporium. A security guard stood off to the side, giving Derry the side eye while the big man stood in the bright glare of the building’s security light, grasping the Caladbolg sword’s hilt in his meaty paw. The timestamp above the photo listed the post time as four hours ago.

Well, finding the big oaf asleep under the covers with the sword by his side would have been too easy. He did a quick scan of the photo. At least six armed guards stood post. Security cameras hung from mounts on the brick fence surrounding the complex. The gate blocking the entrance was as thick as Derry’s head and more than likely warded against magic.

Red pulled on her shirt and he handed back the phone and squeezed his hands into fists, needing to do something that didn’t involve crushing Red’s phone into bits. “Do you think he got in?”

“Yep. The king loves his son, pumpkin spice Oreos and weapons—not always in that order. All he had to do was spot Derry with the Caladbolg sword on the closed-circuit video feed and he would have let him through the castle gates and started negotiations to sell the sword to someone else or lock it up in a treasure room we’ll never find.”