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Lust.
I stare at him.
Breathing hard, he stares back.
I drop my hammer and throw myself at him, making him fall back on his ass.
He lets out a surprised grunt from my unexpected tackle, and he does something I’ve only seen once before—his wings appear, releasing from his shirtless back with a unique sound.
Embarrassed, he breathes, “Don’t look.”
Doing exactly the opposite, I crane my neck to see the wings better. “Why do they just bust out like that? You can’t control it?”
“I can, but sometimes emotionally charged moments cause the reaction. It’s a defense mechanism. Fear, dangerous situations, sexual excitement…”
“Why didn’t they come out when you were on my farm?”
“They can’t in the human realm.” He angles the feathered structures together and down behind him, trying to keep them from my view.
“Ellister, stop.”
“They’re ugly.”
“Let me see.” When he doesn’t comply, I insist, “Show me. I already saw them before.”
“That was different. It was dark in the cave, and they were scrunched up. It’s another matter in full light, especially if I spread them.”
I frame his face with my hands and make sure we have eye contact when I say, “Don’t ever forget that I love everything about you. Everything, Ellister.”
“Fine,” he relents. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Releasing the grip my legs have on his waist, I slide off his lap and crawl around until I’m kneeling behind him in between the wings.
I don’t know what regular fae wings are supposed to look like, but I find myself massively impressed by his.
They’re much larger than I thought they would be. Where they’re attached to his back, the bases are wide, and I can tell his shoulder blade underneath is part of it. The highest point curves up like a roller coaster, reaching the height of his head, and the bottom halves are splayed out on the ground. If he were standing, the tips would reach his feet.
Gray feathers cover the expanse, but they’re still folded in on each other.
“Stretch them out,” I request, and he does as I ask.
Slowly, they raise up and spread. All the intricate bones become visible, but there isn’t one completely bald patch. The thinner spaces are covered with soft, lighter gray, downy feathers.
When I touch the areas, it sends a tremble through his wings.
I pause. “Does it hurt?”
Glancing over his shoulder, he remarks, “Feels good.”
“What kind of good? Ticklish?” I go back to exploring, running my fingers over the fuzz again.
“The kind that makes my cock hard, Hannah.”
Any reminder of his dick makes me instantly wet. My pussy, which is already aching from overuse, starts throbbing with need.
Shaking off the desire, I ask, “When was the last time you looked at your wings? Really looked at them?”
“I don’t know. Years ago.”
