Warrior Fae Princess (Warrior Fae 2)

She moaned, her hips swinging up into his downward thrusts. He worked faster, the pleasure mounting. Losing control. Needing her with all of his person. Needing to claim her in a way that blocked out his thinking and called to his wolf.

Their combined power flowed and danced through the room. The pleasure pulsed higher, so intense that his cock felt like a live wire. He slammed against her, almost there. Right at the edge.

“Yes, Devon, yes!”

An orgasm slammed into him, so hard that black spots swam in his vision. So sweet that it dragged him under until there was no reality. No gravity. There was only the feel of her, her soft lips on his, her arms tight around his shoulders.

He groaned, his heart full, emptying into her. She cried out, shuddering, clinging to his shoulders.

He gulped for air as tingles ran his length, his cock still buried deeply inside of her. He pulled back, shuddered with a renewed tremor of pleasure, and slid it in slowly one more time. She shuddered again and moaned.

“You’ve upped your game. That was incredible.”

He smiled, and his limbs melted around her. “It’s been a long week of waiting. And imagining.”

“As long as it wasn’t a long week of practicing.”

He chuckled softly. “I’m not that stupid.”

He turned onto his side and gathered her up into his arms. She settled her head into the hollow between his shoulder and neck, and she sighed in contentment. He let his eyes drift closed.

Before sleep pulled him under, he heard, “After a little catnap, we’ll have to see if we can top it.”Chapter ThirtyThe next afternoon, Charity sighed as she sank into her couch. She stared at a lovely painting with interesting colors and wished it were a TV. She wanted to shut her mind off. Her day had been hectic and exhausting. She’d met her new grandmother and been warmly hugged. She’d seen the Second—her father!—off and on, and each time, she’d been warmly hugged. She’d met members of the council, which helped run the community, and had been hugged within an inch of her life. Random strangers smiled and hugged her. In fact, the only person who hadn’t offered her a hug was the Second’s assistant, Halvor, who’d randomly punched her.

She much preferred the punch, and even more so the sparring that had followed it. It seemed Halvor would be training her instead of the normal trainers who worked with the village at large. Given the intensity of her fight with Devon, which her father and Halvor had witnessed, they thought she was worthy of training with the absolute best. That, or she was getting preferential treatment. She suspected a little bit of both.

She didn’t argue. Halvor was incredible—lightning fast, perfect form, and fluent in moves she’d never seen before. He might never have seen actual battle, but he was no worse for it. The man was a living legend. Devon had better watch himself—soon she’d dominate him!

Her father suspected that her fighting ability and magic, not to mention the fact that she was the result of his quest in the Brink, would eventually make people blind to her halvsie status. That was apparently a very big deal with these people. They didn’t say it outright—they were much too polite—but it constantly came up in conversation. She was so fast…for a halvsie. She had incredibly dainty and fae-like features…for one of half blood. Her magic was incredibly powerful…for someone with a human mother. They were mystified the human part of her hadn’t dulled her fae magic.

She’d thought she’d gotten over the “for a…” hump by this point in her life, proving that she was more than her shitty upbringing, and yet here she was again. Only this time, it was her blood that was the problem.

She had to own that the people as a whole weren’t quite what she’d expected. She’d thought she’d find a collection of fierce warriors that sat around campfires and gnawed chicken bones or something. Their living in closed-off domestic bliss wasn’t exactly the image Roger had painted. Many of them never having seen a battle, when the Realm was such a mess, seemed more than odd. Off, somehow. Then again, could she blame them? She didn’t relish going back through, and she barely remembered half the trip.

She took a deep breath and let her head fall back on the couch. Despite all the warm hugs she’d endured from strangers, and the difference in expectation, she really did like it here. She saw herself in these people. Their magic was like hers, and they also shared her same brand of crazy. Couples didn’t just argue; they took their problems public and tried to kick the hell out of each other—the women as strong and capable as the men.

It felt like the pressures of her life had finally eased. She didn’t have to struggle to survive here—she could just be.