Faery Godlover

“Closed?” Duada pronounced the word on the sign that hung over the entrance to the city botanical garden. “Why… I don’t understand, what does this mean?”

Jasmine pursed her lips, savoring Duada’s genuine confusion for a moment. “It means it’s closed. It’s kind of late for gardens, they close pretty early as it is.” She kicked the ground a bit. “I uh, appreciate the thought, though!”

“What!” the prince exclaimed, looking plaintive at the news. “Why? Do the plants need rest after a long day’s work? No, no, this won’t do,” he said, shaking his head and stepping up to the gate.

“What are you,” Jasmine started, but her eyes widened as he waved a hand and there was a light click at the door as it sprang open. “Duada! You can’t do that!”

He looked over his shoulder with a bemused expression. “Clearly, I can. Garden security is miserable, we could make off with all these flowers, if we so wished.” He winked before disappearing behind the gate, and Jasmine hurried after him with a huff.

“Okay, so I’ll admit,” she said as the gravel crunched beneath their feet while they walked through the garden, the moonlight casting a silvery glow over the trees, bushes, and ferns that grew in the carefully manicured conservatory, “I had a few ideas in mind for what a date with a faery prince might be like, but breaking into a garden like a couple of teenagers wasn’t high on the list.”

“I’m full of surprises, Jasmine,” he said as he came to a stop in a central part of the garden. It was a rounded walking area with white stone benches situated around a large fountain that was still running, the sounds of water accentuating the foliage around them. “But that isn’t why I brought you here.”

She raised an eyebrow, following him to the edge of the fountain, where he crossed his arms and surveyed the area around him thoughtfully. “O…kay. So why the gardens, then?”

He gave her a smile with a glint in his eye that told her he was waiting for that question. “For a proper canvas.”

Duada’s flick of the wrist seemed almost imperceptible, but what took place around Jasmine was like descending into a vivid dream. All around her, as if her earthly vision were peeling away, the dark greens and browns of the earthy city gardens seemed to melt away into an explosion of color. To her vision, the sky above them was a dark violet, stars twinkling lazily around nebulas. The leaves of the trees turned bright silver, their berries shades of vivid magenta, fuchsia, and teal. The wood of their stems and trunks seemed to swirl into ancient whorls that bore the same kind of striking, ethereal beauty that Prince Duada exhibited, and as her eyes surveyed the whole scene around them, they fell on the prince himself, and his amethyst eyes shone like the stars behind them as the now marble fountain behind him spilled crystal-clear waters.

“What did you do?” Jasmine breathed, putting a hand to her chest, her heart fluttering. Despite all that was changing around her, Duada remained just as she’d seen him when he stepped into her door.

“It’s a glamour,” he said, looking at his handiwork. “I know your state is renowned for its gardens, but I wanted to show you what the gardens of the Summerland Court are like. What my home is like.” There was a touch of sincerity to his voice that Jasmine had thought Duada incapable of, and she blinked before finding her wits, giving a faint smile as she stepped forward.

“Glamour, huh?” she said. “I thought you said you wanted to give me something authentic.”

Duada smiled, and Jasmine cursed silently as she realized he’d been waiting for that question, too. He always seemed a step ahead like that. “What you see, Jasmine, is everything that I know to be real,” he explained. “The trees, the ever-twilight skies, the leaves, the fruits…” he slipped her hands into his, his piercing gaze growing somehow softer, “and me. Jasmine, I show you all this to ask you, frankly, no tricks and no strings attached—how would you like to be a part of all this?” He paused before proceeding. “To share in this with me?”

A rush of emotion surged within her as she looked up at him, her heart pounding as color rushed to her face, the soft skin of her hands being brushed by his, that charming face enticing her by its own natural magnetism. She started to open her mouth to respond, but Duada cut her off.

“Don’t answer yet.”

With that, the prince closed the distance between them and pressed his lips onto hers, and Jasmine let out a soft moan as she melted into the kiss. She parted her lips, allowing his tongue to delve into her mouth as she reveled in his airy yet masculine fragrance, the warmth of his body, the strength of his grip—she only just then realized he was holding her, and she let herself relax in his embrace. Having his arms around her was thrilling and even a little frightening, being surrounded and held submissive to such power. But at the same time, she knew she was safer in his arms than anywhere else in the world.

This was a prince. A faery prince. A being with the power to change the appearance of the things around him on a whim, a man with sway in a world so alien, yet so rich and vibrant. But it was so much more than that. There was no dishonesty in his touch, in the way he held her strongly yet lovingly. He desired her.

Jasmine pressed her hips against his and she felt his hard erection that sent a shiver up her back. He was clearly well endowed, but not like Hayden. A curiosity blossomed in the back of her mind. She wondered why Hayden’s size had freaked her out in the first place. Had Duada somewhat cast glamour on Hayden at that time simply because he had a wicked sense of humor and wanted to see her date fail? Her train of thought was obliterated when Duada possessively wrapped his arms around her waist. Whatever he did, she couldn’t stay mad at him. If she was to be honest with her feelings, she liked this gorgeous bastard a little too much. Duada nuzzled her neck and she shivered in delight. A gasp curled out of her throat with sheer anticipation.

He was a prince, and he was going to claim her.

The realization sent ripples of heat that made her heady as she felt his hand move up to undo her blouse. It fell to the side. As he reached behind her to unhook her bra, she leaned in to whisper into his ear, “So after setting me up so much, how does it feel to get your hands on me yourself?”

The bra fell to the side, and Duada gripped her ample hips, his hungry eyes drinking her in, looking downright predatory. “Woman,” he hissed through his teeth, “you’re fanning a dangerous fire.”

Before she could respond, he descended on her breasts, his tongue brushing up against her quickly stiffening nipple, and she let out a gasp as he guided her to sit on the fountain’s edge. Heartbeats quickened. Lust surged at a fever pitch. It wasn’t long before he was working at her skirt, but Jasmine wasn’t going to let him get away with that without getting something for herself. She tore at the front of his shirt with her fingers. He moved his shoulders, letting the fabric slide away.

Every bit of him could be defined like a marble statue—flawless. Feeling greedy, she wasted no time in running her hands all over him, relishing in the feeling of those sculpted muscles under her fingers. She could feel the pure, supernatural strength rippling through every fiber of his being. She trembled ever so slightly, wondering just how much he was capable of. Just what he could do to her.

Her skirt came off as she kicked her shoes away, and her panties came next. Jasmine couldn’

t remember the last time she gave herself up to anyone, to anything, so openly and willingly. After being alone for so long and keeping her emotional and physical needs under strict lock and key, it was fully liberating to finally just let go. Especially knowing that she had someone strong and capable enough to catch her when she did.

Duada kneeled down between her legs and breathed her in, his fingertips digging into the soft flesh of her thighs. Jasmine held her breath, watching him intently, waiting for him to make his next move. She was too afraid that this was a dream. That at any moment this magical, impossible scene would all disappear and she’d be left all alone again with nothing but a collection of bizarre, brightly tinted memories to sustain her.

But the prince didn’t disappear this time.

The fairy tale didn’t end.

She let out a sharp gasp as his tongue ran up her pussy, his warm breath spilling over her nether lips as he tasted her long and deep. His tongue moved all the way up to her clit, where it lingered for one more teasing moment before withdrawing.