Page 60 of My Fae Lady

I let go, flinging my arms out wide on the bed. “Yes.” I looked down and watched him walk his fingers up my torso, exerting just enough pressure that even with my eyes closed I’d have known it was talons making that journey. He grabbed the top of my apron.

I jerked upright so fast only Sylvan’s quick reflexes prevented us from banging heads. “Wait! Not my work apron!”

My husband collapsed on the bed next to me, chuckling.

I pulled off the apron and tossed it to the floor. Then I leaned over him, poking his chest with my sadly un-clawed finger. “What are you laughing about? Do you have any idea how many years I have spent layering enchantments into that apron?”

Sylvan caught my wrist and pulled me on top of him. “Decades, I’d wager. But you have to admit it is funny that my very proper Seelie wife wants me to shred her expensive frock, yet balks at the idea of her apron getting torn.”

I huffed. “I suppose, when you put it that way . . .” I rolled off him and onto my back. “So when are you going to do it?”

Sylvan moved over me, his knees on either side of my hips. His talon traced down the sensitive skin of my throat. It dipped under the neckline of my dress. “Any other magicked garments I should be worried about?”

I swallowed, anticipation robbing me of words. I shook my head.

And Sylvan used his claws to shred each layer I wore, until my torso was bare, framed by streamers of silk. He watched my breasts rise and fall as I panted, then he reached out and pinched one nipple between his claws.

My back arched, and I cried out.

“I could make you come just from this, couldn’t I, Giselle? Because you are not a good girl after all, are you?”

“Yes. No. Please!”

We had made love before, a night of passion where neither of us had held back—physically, at least. But this was so much more. This was trust and tenderness. It took a form gently bred ladies might recoil from and think was too wild, but it was perfect for us.

It was love.

Sylvan circled my neglected nipple with his claws, featherlight touches that only left me desperate for more. But when I pushed into him, he pulled his hand away.

“More,” I demanded.

He shook his head, then leaned down and claimed my lips in a scorching kiss. “Bad girl, trying to rush me.”

I melted at the gentle reprimand, and Sylvan noticed. “Somebody likes being a bad girl. I suppose that deserves a reward.” He flicked the tip of a talon over my nipple as he kissed his way down my throat. Then he pinched me at the same moment he sucked on the underside of the other breast, a hint of fang pressing against my skin.

I came apart. By the time the aftershocks wore away, Sylvan had shredded the rest of my dress, leaving me naked. I tugged at his waistcoat, careful not to pull at the individual feathers. “Why are you still dressed?”

He smirked. “A proper husband would never be so uncouth as to allow his wife to see him in anything less than full evening wear. Isn’t that how it goes among the humans and Seelie?”

“But not between us. This isn’t going to be a proper marriage. I want wildness. I want you.”

“Good, because I’m already yours.”

“Then be a good boy and strip, husband.”

Sylvan was a very good boy, pulling his clothes off in moments. I directed him to lie on his back, and he didn’t bicker. I raised a brow at his easy compliance and straddled him. “No arguments?”

He laughed. “Why would I argue when this is my reward for obedience?”

He gripped my hips, not hesitating when his claws pressed into me, knowing I wanted all of him. Every last inch.

The night before, everything had been a rush of need. Tonight, I wanted to relish every second. I sank slowly onto him, our eyes locked. There was a moment of perfect unity, an acknowledgement that this was where we belonged. Then, as one, we moved. Sylvan used his grip on my hips to lift me until he was nearly all the way out, then helped me take him back inside at the slowest pace possible. Every minute shift was exquisite, pleasure building in an inexorable wave.

“Giselle. Wife. Love. Please,” Sylvan begged, but he didn’t try to change my pace.

“Yes,” I answered, giving in to the wildness inside and speeding up. “Now.”

Sylvan flipped us and kissed me. I ran my tongue over the fangs he didn’t hide, and he moved even faster. When he sank those fangs into my lower lip and thrust, I shattered and pulled him into oblivion with me.