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“Leannán…”
I roll my hips, purposely brushing up against his erection. My rough jeans rub against the silky fabric of his Faerie clothes, the contrasting materials giving just enough friction that it feels amazing.
Or maybe that’s just because it’s Rys.
He goes still. Not what I was hoping for, but he doesn’t quite stop me, either.
I miss him.
I miss his teases. His laughs. His smiles.
His touches.
His caresses.
The way he makes me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world by just tracing the petals and curves of the daisy chain tattooed up my side.
And. Okay. I miss his dick.
Like a lot.
I hold onto his shoulders, bracing myself as I roll my hips again, riding him. Sure, we’re both still dressed, but we could fix that pretty easily.
I don’t even care that the others are in their tents not too far away from us. This is my exhibitionist side peeking through again. Just like when we were trapped in our cell in Siúcra, the idea that one of the guards could stroll into our wing at any moment, catching me and Rys in the middle of the act… it only heightened my desire.
This is the closest we’ve been in weeks. The whole situation is fucked up—we’ve both made mistakes—but I don’t care. For as long as Rys will let me be with him, I’m not walking away from this.
I angle my head, stealing a quick kiss, trying to encourage him to do more. He groans, swallowing the sound before he grabs my hair. It’s a gentle yank, pulling my head right where he wants it before he gives me such a deep kiss, I’m panting as soon as he breaks it.
Yes!
I release his shoulder, going for the gold button at the top of his shirt. For one second, I really think this is happening. That, if only for tonight, I can enjoy his body and share my touch with him. But, before the button is undone, Rys circles my wrist with his long, slender fingers and presses it to his thigh.
“We can’t.” He sounds as hot as I feel, even though he’s putting an end to this. “Not now.”
Why the hell not?
“Hey. We don’t have to be mates for you to touch me. Remember? We touched in the oubliette, and we… you know”—I don’t want to say ‘fucked’ just in case Nine or Riley is still awake, though I’m sure they’ve figured it out by now—“even after you sacrificed your ffrindau to Siúcra. Nothing is stopping this.”
“I am. I must. If I continue to touch you, I’ll want more.”
“I already do,” I confess. “I want you to give it to me.”
He tightens his jaw and I know, no matter how much I plead, my stubborn Seelie won’t give in.
“You never told your human who you chose.”
I draw away from him. “What?”
“When he told you ‘choose’. I know the Unseelie took him before you could. Still.”
Is Rys asking me to choose? As sexually frustrated as I suddenly am, I feel a tiny niggle of hope spring to life. Why would he want to know… unless there was a chance that, just maybe, I could have him back?
“You,” I murmur, making sure to look him dead in the eye as I tell him so. “I choose you.”
“But he doesn’t know that.”
And… Rys isn’t even a little wrong.
