How does it feel? (Infatuated Fae Book 1)

Callie

I rolled to my stomach, and sleep pulled me deeper into the abyss with the new position. My hands fisted the fluffy comforter under my head. I inhaled the sultry scent of the bedding’s owner. I would never admit it—maybe it was some type of Stockholm syndrome—but I couldn’t help but find excitement when I breathed in the spicy amber and cedar fragrance. I tightened my thighs together. The reminder of Mendax’s muscled body pressed against mine flitted across my mind as though he touched me now. The excitement he got from me felt like a power all on its own.

If only he wasn’t so vile.

My stupid body ached with the delusion of wishing he were touching me. What would it feel like to have the harsh, unfeeling man fall apart just because he touched me? Simple me.

Even the pain he had caused as he cleaned my wounds had somehow felt carnal and erotic. Like there was a forbidden layer of pain-laced pleasure I had never experienced.

The formidable prince of death had knelt on the ground before me. I would have given anything to know the last time he had knelt before anyone—and given them his bedding. He acted as someone would who had begun to care about me.

That was a foolish thought considering he was determined to kill me.

This was stupid to think about. I needed to get out of here before it was too late. If I couldn’t get to my family in time—

The hairs along the back of my neck rose as a presence loomed behind me.

Cool air hit the back of my exposed thighs, and I remembered the tiny blue nightgown I had slept in. I went to roll over, realizing that my whole lower half had exposed itself. Strong hands pushed down my head, stopping me from flipping onto my back. The action caused me to pin my arms under the blanket they had been holding as a pillow.

“Get the fuck away from me, Mendax!” I muffled through the fabric.

I knew it was him simply by the way my skin seemed to tingle in his presence. I could feel his hand like a magnet above the skin of my ass, even though he didn’t touch it.

“Say it again,” he rasped, his voice thick and husky.

“What!?” I rebuked as my heart rate quickened. I struggled against the hand that gently held my head down against the blanket.

I shifted up on my knees to gain leverage, my ass high in the air before I realized what I had done.

He was absolutely unhinged. A dark and deranged man who enjoyed slaughtering others and . . . and touching me. I had felt the proof of his hard arousal last night.

Trembles slithered up my spine at the horribly enticing thought.

“Say my name again.” His deep voice rumbled as his hand ghosted my butt lightly.

Goose bumps trailed my skin, chasing after his hand.

“Fuck you!” I shouted, attempting to cover up a breathy gasp.

He was pushing my head just enough that I was stuck but not enough that I had any trouble breathing into the fluffy comforter.

“Say it, Callie. I want to hear the way it sounds from your filthy mouth.”

I felt his hot breath on the back of my ass cheek. I could feel his body towering over mine.

My face flared red at the vision he was seeing. My entire backside was exposed and raised to the gods, with only a tiny black triangle of fabric covering my center.

I knew I was skating the line, but I was at war with myself between kicking him in the face and learning what my words really did to him.

“Fuck you, Mendax!” Why was I so out of breath?

“Very good girl,” he rumbled as his rough hand ran up the inside of my thigh, feathering where the seam of my panties rested.

I gasped, biting my lip so hard I tasted copper as my eyes fluttered shut. I pushed my head harder against the blanket to make certain he heard nothing.

“Your flesh is the softest thing I have ever felt,” he said breathily almost to himself. “Tell me why you want me dead, little lamb? Don’t be shy with me. I quite like the fire that you attempt to mask.”

“For the last fucking time! I’m not trying to kill you! God! I’m pretty sure I would be doing a better job than this if I were!” I shouted.

How stupid was this man?

His hand skated across my most sensitive parts, softly feeling the silk triangle.

I knew he could feel my desire dampening the fabric even as I bit the other side of my lip to stop myself from letting out an unwelcome moan.

With my head and hands held down, I couldn’t tell what he was doing, I could see nothing. All my senses heightened, and my skin buzzed, waiting to feel where his hand or body would move next.

“I’ll ask you again, Callie.” He pulled the triangle to the right, and cold hair hit my exposed throbbing sex. “Why do you want me dead?” His voice was thick and sultry, as if he could barely restrain himself at the sight of me.

“I’m not an as—”

His tongue swept over my center from behind with one long swipe.

I bit a mouthful of the bedding and tried to rise, but the steady pressure of his hand pushing my face into the fabric stopped me. I needed to get away from him. I was unraveling at his fingertips—and his tongue.

Holy gods.

My thighs shook in anticipation, and I was thankful my face was hidden from view.

Mendax groaned a low reverberating growl that had its own effect entirely on my body.

“I am plagued by you.” Another light swipe of his tongue. “I am vexed with the thought of you constantly.” His lips pressed against me as he spoke, and I felt every breath and rumble of his mouth as it moved against me. “I beg the old gods that listen”—another swipe, this time his tongue deepened, and he lightly ran his teeth over my nub, following with his warm tongue—“that they will rid you from my system after today.”

I could fight it no longer and pressed back against his warm mouth, shamefully begging for more with a deep moan. I couldn’t think straight. The world seemed to swirl and blend away, and we were the only two left. Nothing mattered but when I would feel him touch me again.

He readily acquiesced, grabbing both of my thighs. The prince gently spread my legs farther apart before he cupped a large hand under me.

I was completely undone, arching my back and moaning. I felt hollow with a need for him to fill me, to feel that delicious friction filling my body.

“That’s it, my little hellhound, rub that pussy against my face so hard we both forget how much we hate each other.”

A low growl ripped from his chest as I did just as he requested.

I was so close—so close to coming.

A sharp, pleasant sting flared as he suddenly slapped my ass. His mouth and tongue continued to flick and suck in a wild, mind-numbing assault. It was like a starved man given food for the first time.

“Mendax!” I shrieked huskily as the sting of his hand bit into my skin sharply.

The sensation sent ripples of sensitivity through the rest of my body, and I writhed against his face feeling the rumble of his moans reverberate over me.

“Mendax! Oh god! Me—”

“Say it again, pet. Remind the gods exactly who you have bewitched.”

I came so hard that stars flickered in my vision before I collapsed in a pile spreading my arms wide. Only then realizing that my hands had been free most of the time.

“I still hate you,” I said as I looked into the hungry blue eyes that towered over me.

In another world, I would have wanted nothing more than to curl into his chest and sleep. His face seemed so different and full of feeling as he watched me.

“I still want to kill you . . . maybe more now,” he said, staring at me one last second before he turned and walked to the door. “The maids will be in to get you dressed. We leave for your second trial in an hour. The Seelie royals wish for a piece of the entertainment as well.”

“We must go now, miss,” the lady’s maid mumbled while she sprayed something from a small ruby bottle at me.

I sighed heavily. I still felt so tired. My wounds hurt even under the bandages that were healing them at an alarming speed.

Foolishly, every time my eyes lifted from sleep, I still found myself searching for the light, for the place that would always hold a piece of my heart, even if I didn’t make it out of here alive.

“We know you can do it, miss. The staff all root for you, oh—please don’t tell the queen I said that,” the small elfish-looking girl murmured.

Even she was beautifully ethereal, like everyone else I had seen on this side of the veil save for a few monsters. I couldn’t help but wonder why Prince Mendax always seemed so disgusted by the females in his presence. Everyone was so gorgeous.

I studied her heart-shaped face in surprise. “You—what? I was under the impression you all liked Prince Mendax?” I rose from my chair, now fully dressed in a beautiful crimson gown that fell in a heap to the floor. It instantly reminded me of pooling blood.

“Oh! Miss—we do! We very much like the prince!” She scrambled, beginning to look flushed as the maids all exchanged worried looks. “We like him very much, which is why we champion for you to survive. Had Prince Mendax not killed his father—well, there is no telling what would have happened to all of us.”

The small group of maids walked me toward the door and stopped so the one speaking could adjust the back tendril of hair that kept releasing itself from my updo. She looked exactly like what the human fairy tales assumed small fairies to look like, petite with slightly more angled features and incredibly pointed ears.

Eventually, she stopped trying to fix my hair and snapped her fingers. A large luna moth that had been floating through the room—they always seemed to be—flew smooth and unhurried to the back of my hair where it landed, holding the misbehaved tendril in place. Another came and rested on the top, fluttering as if they were excited for the task.

“If you are on Mendax’s side, then why do you root for me?” I asked as I watched the maids all blush in unison.

“We have been maids of the Unseelie castle for hundreds of years, since His Highness was only a baby.”

Hundreds of years old?

She continued, looking down in an attempt to hide her face under her ashy brown hair. “And he never laughs or smiles, never has. He is completely unable to feel anything but hatred.” She reached out to put her small hand on my arm. “Please know that not all Unseelie are this way. We have normal and happy villages, much like I have heard of in the human realm—”

“What does this have to do with me?” I asked, feeling a painful twinge at the mention of the human realm.

She moved close to my face, her brown eyes glittering. She reminded me of a giant doll that smelled like cupcakes, not at all what I would expect from a maid of the horrible Unseelie castle. “He likes you, we can tell. The prince—it’s like he’s numb all the time. Never changes expressions or seems to feel unless he is killing.” Her round bark-colored eyes sparkled. “But he feels with you, his eyes dance when he looks at you, and he is constantly watching you. If . . . if he bonded with you, then he could ascend and take the throne as king!” She finished excitedly.

The other three had now joined her in quiet harmony as they smiled and whispered excitedly to one another pressed up against me.

So that was why he hadn’t become king. Because no one wanted to be tied to him forever, I certainly wouldn’t blame them for that.

“You are foolish. He doesn’t like me. In fact, he despises me. You do remember he’s trying to kill me with these trials, right? I’m sure there are plenty of shadowy maidens that would love to bond—or whatever—to him.” I pushed back my shoulders and steadied myself for what was to come today, not liking the nonsense they spoke.

I didn’t want to bond to anything. I wanted to go home.

“Oh, there are plenty of women who have tried desperately to claim him, he has never entertained one that we are aware of. He says he will never bond to another and share his powers and will never become king.” Her round eyes drooped in sadness, and a dramatic frown creased her doll-like face. “Though he thinks he will live forever, he will not, and as of now, who knows who or what will take the throne if he is gone! His people need him to remain. With the expelled Fae holding rebellion, it’s trying times to have an empty throne.”

I shook the confusing words from my head. This wasn’t my world, and I wouldn’t get tangled up in any of this. I just wanted to go home.

“I think I should go. I truly am sorry about the troubles you all face, and I hold faith in the hopes that you find a solution that works. Are the guards coming to assist me?” I asked, stepping out of the door to an empty hallway.

Where were my shadow guards?

“No.” She smiled coyly. “The prince said that the guards were futile. That he would find you easily and enjoy the hunt should you try to escape.” She covered her mouth, and I swear a breeze of vanilla cupcake wafted into my nose. “He and the queen are escorting you in the carriage to the Court of Faerie themselves. Good luck.” She smiled, and I found myself cringing away from it.

I stepped into the dark hallway and headed for the grand staircase.

As much as I thought I would hate so much darkness, the castle had a cozy feel as the amber flickers of light cast a warm glow against the dark floors and walls. Maybe I should paint my rooms at home black if I returned.

I had to clutch the banister at the top of the stairs and close my eyes.

Home.

What if I didn’t survive the trial today? What if I never made it home again? Never got to see Willow Springs or Earl again? I would never see Dorothy the turkey or the cabin I had so newly called home.

I stepped onto the dark wood of the first step, trembling.

This was real.

I could easily die today.

My chest tightened, and the crimson fabric sparkled with my quickened breath as I clutched the iron balusters fighting to keep upright, but failing as I dropped to sit on the step.

I couldn’t do this—I couldn’t.

A solid hand gently pressed against my lower back.

“It’s a good thing Alistair’s not near to hear your heart racing, or he would go mad,” Mendax whispered softly as he sat down next to me. The soft onyx-colored fabric of his pants and coat gently caressed the side of my thigh as he sat.

I hadn’t turned my face from the stairs to identify who it was. I didn’t need to. I knew it had been him before he spoke. My nerves seemed to itch for him when he was near, and that bothered me more than any of this. How could I feel that way about the man trying to kill me? He was the villain. I would only feel that for a hero.

“Will you truly let me go home if I survive the trials?” I asked softly, feeling vulnerable.

I turned to face him just in time to see a muscle feather at his jaw.

“Believe me, pet, when I tell you I want you gone—I need you gone,” his low whisper skated across my clavicle, down to lower, more hidden, parts of me.

“Then just send me away now. Why kill me?”

Our faces had somehow gotten closer. Here I could easily see the rosy tones of his soft lips, the smooth skin that made the dark hair near his temple stand out in contrast.

“Because if you’re not dead, I fear I will leave everything to follow you.” His gravelly voice was barely heard as it ghosted across my lips.

One minuscule movement from either of us and our lips would press together. What would it feel like to kiss that wicked mouth? Something in my gut warned me it would be like a drug—that it would feel like magic until every part of me was ripped apart, unable to collect the pieces.

“You assume I’d be easily found if—”

“I would find you,” he stated with a look that sent so many butterflies into my belly it made the moths in my hair flutter.

He lifted my arm as he stood, helping me up and setting it in the crook of his before guiding us down the wide staircase.

“If you die tonight and I never get to tell you, you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”

His kind words startled me, and I tripped down the step before he caught my waist with a firm grip. My long nails dug into his back for balance as I steadied myself. I looked up to thank him but stalled, finding his features afflicted with a look of torment.

I realized my nails dug into the spot where his wings would attach if they were out. The place I now knew was the killing blow of winged Unseelie creatures.

We both paused. He turned to face me, still holding my waist.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered as I pulled my fingers away. They trailed down his broad back, and I felt every muscle tense under my fingertips. “It’s the same for you, isn’t it? The killing point beneath your wing? Why would you not wear armor then?” I asked. Somehow this felt incredibly intimate.

I took the last step and moved off the stairs needing space. I hadn’t really expected an answer from him. The idiot still believed me to be an assassin, after all.

He grabbed my hand as I walked off the stairs and pulled me back against his chest. Something in his eyes looked dangerous and unhinged. His wings unfurled. This close, you could see they formed more of a physical substance than just wisps of airy smoke. I went to pull away. The sheer danger my body felt at the sight of his spread wing was enough to make me run. His predatorial side was in full effect, no longer hidden beneath the guise of a kind man.

He moved my hand to the place on his back just under his wing.

I gasped as he pressed my palm firmly against it, feeling the edge of skin and fabric that made way for the wings.

“Yes, lamb, a wound here would end me,” he rumbled as he held me against his chest. I could see every tiny blue speck in his beautiful eyes. His body screamed danger, but something in his eyes was gentle, sad even. “I wear no armor because I don’t need it. I accept the challenge of anyone foolish enough to attempt to end me. Most Fae are too stupid to know I also possess the weak spot.

He pressed my hand harder on the spot. I felt the thick liquid-feeling of his wing press against the top of my hand as if in retaliation to my closeness to the spot. Only our eyes spoke as we stared, our bodies pressed together intimately.

He was being vulnerable with me.

He had to believe I wasn’t really here to hurt him.

He seemed to shake himself out of it and moved forward, still holding my wrist as he tucked his wings away. We walked out the door to the largest, most horrifying carriage.

It was large and gothic, with black overlays covering the intimidating square frame. Rich red velvet screamed at my eyes when the door opened, but that wasn’t the scary part.

Six large skeletal unicorns with glowing red eyes stomped and huffed angrily as they waited at the front of the ominous vehicle. That still wasn’t the scariest.

“Get in already,” shouted the queen from inside the carriage.