Escaped (Imprisoned by the Fae 2)

“Then do it,” I dare.

He whirls around on me. “What did you say?”

Scooting toward the edge of his bed, I open my arms wide. It’s the same exact position that Rys would take when we were together in the cell and he was inviting me to run my hands over his golden skin. Only, this time, I’m giving him the chance to come to me.

“Touch me, Rys.”

He bites down so hard, I see a muscle tic in his cheek. It’s the one with the scar and I want nothing more than to walk over there and stroke it with my finger. But I don’t. This isn’t about me touching him.

Greedy or not, I want his hands on me.

I don’t think he’s going to. He’s taking too long to think about it, too long to close the gap between us. He’s probably too busy convincing himself of all the reasons why he should order me to go or, hell, walk out of the room himself.

What about I give him one reason why he should?

“Can you touch someone who isn’t your”—I think about trying to mimic the way he says ffrindau, know that I’ll butcher it regardless, and change it to—“mate? That’s how touch magic works, right? You just need permission. Well, you have mine.”

“If I touch you, Leannán, I’ll want more than that.”

I raise my eyebrows. “And? You want it? Take it.”

It’s almost as if he was waiting for me to be so blunt as that. As if Rys needed it put plainly, my very own definite statement that could never be twisted or interrogated. I’m not so sure why. From the moment I made the conscious decision to let him use his touch magic on me while we were trapped together in the oubliette—in the shadows of Siúcra—he’s had my permission to lay his hands on me. And, from the night in our cell, when I tried to seduce him and he had my flat on my back before I knew what was going on, he’s always known that I wouldn’t say no.

Rys shudders out a breath, then steps toward me. “You’ll regret this in the morning.”

He’s right. I probably will. If we do this, if it leads where it has so many times before, I’ll fall right back into the addiction of his touch. Next time he won’t give in so easily. Next time he’ll lock the door or he’ll send me somewhere else, I don’t know. But I can tell from the way he’s fighting the pull back to his bed, I won’t catch him off guard again.

So, yeah. I’ll regret it when I ache for his touch and he’ll only put more distance between us because of that stupid, stupid sacrifice. But you know what? That sounds like future Helen’s problem.

Current Helen will take whatever her scarred Seelie will give her.

I knew he was strong. Though Rys has a delicate beauty about him that only highlights his brutal scar, he’s proven that he’s way stronger than I would’ve guessed by his looks alone. I remember how he was able to stop Vale in the middle of a sprint just by grabbing the Seelie guard’s collar, and how he could shimmy up a length of rope by using just his arms.

He gently lifts me up, slipping his hands under my ass, encouraging me to wrap my legs around his waist. Swapping our positions, Rys sits down on the edge of the bed, bracing his bare feet against the floor.

“I’m really not supposed to,” he whispers into my throat, his hot breath tickling my feverish skin. I almost go cross-eyed when he stops talking to nibble, the edge of his blunt teeth scraping my throat.

“Unh. Not supposed… not supposed to what?”

I’m panting. This feels so good—so right—that I don’t give a shit what either of us is supposed to do if it means that he’s thinking about stopping. But if I want to convince him that we deserve this after everything we’ve been through, then I need to know what he’s so worried about.

“It doesn’t matter, Leannán. Because you’re a temptation I can not deny.”

I like the way that sounds. “Then don’t.”

He moves his head quickly, angling it just so that he slants his lush lips over mine. He slips his tongue into my mouth, stroking it expertly, tugging me closer to him. Fine by me. If I could climb inside of him, I would. Instead, I guess I’ll have to settle for letting him inside of me.

When he breaks the kiss, I’m not the only one who is panting. “Forget what I said before, my darling. I don’t want you to regret this.”

“I won’t,” I promise. And it’s not completely a lie. I’ll never forget this time we have together. If anything, I’ll only regret that there isn’t more of it. “Hey, I started this, remember?” As Rys steals another kiss again, nipping my bottom lip before slowly rolling his hips beneath me, I feel a flutter in my gut that has nothing to do with how he’s affecting the rest of me. Leaning back so that I can see his face, I ask him, “Why? Will you?”

“Never.”

I believe him. Even if I didn’t know that he couldn’t lie, there’s such conviction in his tone, I absolutely believe him.

I wiggle my arms, a silent signal for him to loosen his hold on my arms. Wearing a coy smile, excitement flooding my body as my pussy finds the length of his erection between his pants and my nightie, I wait until he’s let me go before I start to tug the nightgown over my head.

“Since neither one of us plans on regretting anything, I figure we might as well get down to doing something we won’t regret, right?”