A Lady and Her Magic (Faerie 1)

As he stroked those fine little edges of her delicate wings, she rose and fell on him, her head thrown back in abandon, her breath hitching with every down stroke. She ground herself upon his pelvis, rocking just where she needed.

As she got closer to her peak, he forced himself to wait. She rode him, rising and falling, and sparks began to fall around them, drifting like snowflakes floating to the ground. They filled the air around them. “What is that?” he was able to ask.

“Magic,” she laughed. “We are magical.” She ground her hips against him and squeezed, which took his mind off the sparks.

Ashley brought the tip of her wing to his mouth and tongued it gently.

“Ashley, I can’t wait,” she cried. Her movements grew erratic, and he could tell she fought to maintain her perch upon him with her legs quivering, her arms shaking.

He took her hips in his hands and took over. She arched her back and cried out, then locked her arms and rode out her climax. The air filled with shooting sparks that shot across the room like stars as she came. Then he came with her, and as he soaked her walls, grunting with satisfaction as he screwed into her, the shower only got more heavenly.

She rode him until they both were spent. Then she collapsed onto his chest, sliding in the sweat between them. He brushed her hair to the side to look at her face as she placed a quick kiss to the patch of hair on his chest. “That was magic?” he managed to grunt.

“That was us,” she affirmed with a nod, her cheek sliding in the sweat against his chest. She didn’t seem to care. He could feel her smile against his skin. The sparks began to fade.

“Good God, woman. I never imagined.”

“Neither did I,” she said. He slipped out of her as she nestled into his side. Then her wing came up to cover them both like a soft, light counterpane. And she slept.

Epilogue

Ashley wrapped Sophia in her dressing gown, pulling it closed with a heavy sigh. “What’s wrong?” she asked, tugging the lapels of his own gown and drawing him back to her.

“I quite like you naked,” he said with a grin. He tugged her dressing gown back open quickly and pressed a kiss to the center of her chest. “I plan to keep you naked a lot.” Then he closed her wrapper and stepped back from her. He sat down at a tiny table in their bedchamber and lifted a scone to his mouth. His appetite for her was only seconded by his appetite for sweets.

A quick knock sounded at their door. “Enter,” he called absently as he opened his newspaper.

Sophia looked up to see Lady Anne as she entered the room. Holding tightly to her forefinger was their newest addition. “Margaret said it was all right to bring her to you,” Anne said, somewhat reserved.

“It’s always all right to bring her to me,” Sophia said as she bent to pick up the youngest Trimble girl. She crawled atop the bed and beckoned Anne to join her. “What are your plans for today?”

But then, the sound of running feet in the corridor caught her attention. “Just when we thought it was safe to come out of the nursery,” Anne groaned.

Through the door tumbled a dark-haired boy, their son and Ashley’s heir. He was the spitting image of his father. He wore a billowing shirt and wielded a large stick he swung like a sword. Margaret followed him into the room. “Sorry, Your Grace. He got away from me.”

“He seems to do that a lot,” Ashley said, shooting his son a harsh glance. But the tot only squealed and wrapped his arms around his father’s legs. Ashley picked him up and tossed him atop the bed with his sister. And his mother. Sophia rolled to the side, protecting her stomach from flailing legs as Anne tickled her little brother, making him squeal and roll around. “Careful,” Ashley warned. The lad stilled. “Careful of the baby.”

“Baby,” the littl

est Trimble repeated. She had no idea what she said, but she repeated nearly everything.

“It’s better than that word she repeated of yours the other day,” Anne teased. Anne laid her hand upon Sophia’s belly. “Do you think this one will be a boy or a girl?” she asked reverently.

“Definitely a boy,” Ashley said.

“Do you think this one will be magical?” Anne asked. She’d been somewhat relieved that the first two Trimble children weren’t magical, from what Sophia could tell.

Ashley rubbed his hand down her hair. “All of our children are magical,” he said as he bent and kissed her forehead.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Anne said. She reached for the baby girl and passed her to Margaret. Then she picked up the lad and said, “Let’s go and find some pirates to slay, shall we?”

He nodded enthusiastically and let Anne carry him from the room, with Margaret quickly pursuing them. Ashley rolled toward Sophia and opened her dressing gown. He pressed a kiss to the side of her huge belly. It rippled with a kick. He was always enamored of their children from the moment of their conception. It pleased her to no end. “Do you think this one will be fae?” he asked.

Somewhere deep inside, Sophia did want to have a child who was fae. She was quite happy with the three she already had, and they were magical in their own right, but having a little girl or boy with pointy ears and a penchant for good deeds would please her greatly. “Who can say?” she asked with a breezy wave.

Ashley crawled slowly up her body, parting her dressing gown with his teeth and baring her skin as he went. He plumped her breast in his hand and groaned, “I love it when you’re like this.”

She laughed and shoved ineffectually at his hand. “You must, because I seem to keep getting this way.” With a gentle shove to his shoulder, she tossed him onto his back and crawled over him. She opened his robe as reverently as he’d opened hers. “I plan to use you well this day, my husband,” she warned playfully.