Touch (Touched by the Fae 3)

I move my other hand, about to stroke his long, raven-colored hair when my stomach jolts.

Oh. I forgot.

On the other side of my lust-fueled haze, I distinctly remember taking my gloves off and leaving them in the living room. I don’t regret it, but seeing my hands now makes me uncomfortable.

I need my gloves. The Brinkburn, too. I took that off with my clothes, but it’s too precious to leave lying around.

Gotta find it.

After checking once more that Nine is still slumbering, I quickly slip out of the bed before searching my side of the room for the necklace before I go for my gloves. Nine might have called my ruined hands beautiful, but it’s gonna take a lot longer for me to believe that. I just don’t feel right—just don’t feel like me—without my gloves.

“Where are you going?”

At that familiar voice, I turn to see that my mate is suddenly wide awake.

His eyes glow vividly, the silver gleam so bright, his irises remind me of mirrors set into his beautiful face. His nostrils flare as he takes in a deep breath, a look of pure heat transforming his cool expression into something way more heated.

My lips quirk upward.

That’s right. I’m still naked.

And though he’s seen every inch of me, touched every inch of me, he looks like he’s ready to do it all over again.

Know what? The gloves can wait.

It’s Nine’s turn to wear me out.

After he finishes, he pulls me close, tucking me under his arm as if he’s afraid that I’ll try to sneak out of the bed again if he doesn’t. He doesn’t have anything to worry about there.

No chance of that happening since he just boned the last of my energy out of me.

Sleep. Sleep sounds pretty good right now.

As I begin to doze, Nine threads his fingers through my hair this time, reaching up to rest his fingers along the side of my throat. Since the actual claiming meant that he could touch me and it wouldn’t affect me any more than any other sweet caress from my lover would, I notice that he can’t keep his hands off of me. I… I like it. He’s the only one who can do it, too, without me flipping out, and I’m so glad.

I missed being touched.

I preen at his gentle stroke, shimmying closer so that I’m wrapped up in the undeniable essence that is totally Nine. I breathe him in, feeling safe and secure and loved. For the first time in a long time, I can let my guard down around someone else.

I close my eyes and sigh.

“I’m beginning to think I finally understand why Oberon lost his crown to Melisandre.”

I’m half asleep. My body feels limp with pleasure, my heart full of affection for my Shadow Man. Still, when his murmur finds its way to my ears, it’s such a strange thing for him to say that I quirk one eye open.

“Really? Why’s that?”

“Because if she made him feel anything like how you just made me feel, he would’ve been powerful to resist giving her anything she wanted.”

Oh.

I snuggle closer to him. That might possibly be the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard anyone say to me, especially during pillow talk.

“You know, I was wondering something. Why did the crown belong to him in the first place? If he lost it so easily.”

“It’s because Oberon was born to be the Summer King.”

I open my other eye, blinking up at him. “Huh?”