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He chuckled. “Odd . . . I feel rather like I’m the canary when you pin me down.”
We both knew he could throw me off him, could return toElphame, could leave me. That was the part that I couldn’t stand some nights. He spoke as if I was the one with the power, but he held my everything in his hands. If he left, if he got tired of my chaos or mistakes, he could simply leave—and I could not follow.
“Are you caught then?” my voice was embarrassingly vulnerable.
“As caught as you are, love.” His hands traced up my sides, under the loose shirt I had worn to sleep, caressing but cautious even now.
I lowered myself over him. All that was between us was a sheet, and that was only over his lower half. It felt somehow like too much and not enough.
I was what was politely called “sex-positive”—and impolitely called words that had led to my fists in more than a few faces—but the most adventurous nights of sex had never felt as important as the smallest touches with Eli.
His thumbs on my nipples made my thoughts evaporate and my hips grind down.
“Geneviève. . .”
“There’s a sheet between us,” I whispered, bending down to kiss him and pressing myself closer to his obvious arousal.
What was meant to be a simple kiss became a clash of tongue and teeth that had entire body buzzing with the strange magic that had been between us these last weeks. When he pulled back, I admitted, “I always feel drunk on you.”
“Geneviève,” he tried again. He swallowed and asked, “Rules . . .?”
I sat up, took his wrists in my hands, and then I angled my hips. Pushing his arms above his head, I pressed myself down and rubbed against his body. With sheet between us, we weren’t breaking the rule.
“I wantyou, Eli,” I confessed.
“Bonbon . . .” He groaned as he pressed his hips up in time to my movements. “Rules?”
“No intercourse,” I said, as I always had to say since I’d discovered the unpleasant truth of fae engagements: True love and sex created an unbreakable marriage bond with the fae.
I was pretty damn sure that what we felt was love. Saying it was as good as admitting I loved him—and that I knew he loved me. Maybe that was why he had started forcing me to say it every time we’d touched intimately. He was aware that my refusal was an admission.
“No intercourse,” Eli repeated in a low voice. “And you want my pleasure. Anything else?”
Any negotiation with a faery was dangerous, but I couldn’t care in that moment.
“That’s all, love,” I said, enjoying the way he reacted tothatword.
I bent to kiss him again, and I wasn’t sure whether it was his need or mine that had me wishing there was a way around this no-intercourse issue. The fae were literal enough that I figured we could safely do everythingbutthat. And I was increasingly insistent on finding that exact line and skating along it.
“May I kiss you, finally?” he asked.
I blinked at him.
“You crossedthatline earlier.” He breathed the words against my throat. “Would you deny me the same?”
I let out a sound that was more noise than word as I realized what he’d meant. “Kiss me” was a polite euphemism. “Please.Please.”
“Begging so soon?” Eli chuckled.
In the next moment, Eli had reclaimed the control I’d held. I was flipped over mid-kiss, and in short order I was topless, legs spread, and Eli had slid down my body. There was something incredibly exciting in knowing that he could probably hold me down if he wanted—and that he wouldn’t do so if I said the word.
I wasn’t saying anything, though. My thighs were parted for his attentions, and I had no words left.
“No intercourse, peach,” he whispered, “because you’d bemineforever.”
At first, I managed not to answer. I had no words with Eli’s mouth on my body. He held me tightly enough that my thighs would have fingerprints.
Then, just when I was about to crash into bliss, he paused. Staring up my trembling body, he asked, “No intercourse, my delicious peach, because . . .”
