Fiery Fate (11 page)

Solara sat back on her heels, as if waiting for him to speak. But he could not find his voice. She hadn’t righted the strap of her shift, and in her sitting position the swell of her breast peeked above the top of the garment, her nipples straining against the silken fabric.

Could he die from such a painful erection?

Why didn’t she speak? Clearly, he was unable to at the moment. And he feared if he moved he might actually lose his control and ejaculate. His cock throbbed, the sensitive head rubbing against his breeches. Despite his attempts to the contrary, his mind conjured up images of Solara walking over to him, unlacing his breeches and taking his shaft in her heated mouth, then sucking him until he exploded down her throat.

And yet she continued to watch him, her green-eyed gaze focused on his face. She hadn’t uttered a word, as if she expected him to make the first move.

“I…I…”

Brilliant. Now he sounded like a lovesick boy who’d just had his first glimpse of a tit and couldn’t form a coherent word. The faerie exercised some kind of magic over him, making him unable to utter intelligent words.

“Is there something you’re trying to say, Roarke?” She fixed him with an innocent batting of her eyelashes, but clearly the vixen had spellbound him somehow.

Had the mere sight of a half-naked breast caused a total loss of his ability to speak? “I…I have work for you.”

“I see. And what is it that you would like me to do for you?” Suck my cock. Ease this tormenting ache in my balls. Lie down upon the grass and spread your sweet thighs so that I might sheathe myself in you. “There are accounts we need to go over.”

“Can it wait? I’m pruning the seedlings.”

“Can’t someone else do that?”

She huffed and crossed her arms. “You were the one who told me that I should see to the seedlings myself.”

“Oh. I did, didn’t I?” Now he sounded like an imbecile. “Very well, then. I shall go over the accounts myself.”

He should turn and walk away. Their conversation was over. But she looked so delectable sitting there on the ground, her scarlet wings combating for wild color with the fierce green grass, he stood rooted to the spot.

Solara shrugged and turned her attention to the seedlings and dirt. “You do that. I still have much to do.

First I must finish up here, see to the evening meal, check on Noele, and then I feel in need of a bath.” Truly he was about to turn away, but the mere mention of her bathing conjured up those blasted images in his head again. He coughed to clear the dry lump in his throat. “I see. Well, I will take my leave of you now.”

“Very well.”

She didn’t even look up at him. He walked away, feeling for all the world like he’d just been spurned by a woman whose attentions he sought.

This entire charade grew more ridiculous by the second.

He had work to do. Yes, work would occupy his mind.

And he would
not
think about her bathing!

* * * * *

He’d left his emotions unguarded, and she felt every tantalizing moment of his frustration as he’d watched her. His desire matched her own, his need as fierce and uncontrollable as hers.

Touching his emotions was dangerous. She knew she should not pry into his mind, into his soul, and yet the opening he’d left surprised her. Like an irresistible temptation, she felt compelled to seek out the truth.

Yes, he’d hidden his desires quite well, at least internally. But the hard evidence of it could not be hidden from her. One look at his erection had her mouth going dry, her nipples beading against the thin material of her shift. Moisture gathered between her legs and she fought to keep her hand from straying there to massage the ever-growing ache.

An ache she would have to relieve herself, despite her wish to take Roarke’s hand, place it on the curls of her sex and beg him to release her from the torment.

With a sigh, she realized this game she played would have more than one victim. Yes, she would teach Roarke a lesson, but she would also painfully face the same realizations as he.

But she vowed to continue, a plan for tonight already forming in her mind. She had seen the way his eyes darkened when she mentioned bathing this eve, and she would make sure that he was in a position to watch her.

It may agonize them both in the process, but she’d show him that he had much to lose, the least of which was his damnable honor!

Roarke had endured quite enough from the faerie vixen today. First the episode in the garden, then at the evening meal. She had spent time with one of his guards, clearly amused at everything the man said.

His blood boiled, roaring in his ears every time her lilting laugh sailed across the hall. She tormented him on purpose, he knew it.

And the guard who dared openly flirt with a woman betrothed to a king would find himself demoted and shoveling horse shit tomorrow.

Tired of the ridiculous display, he had left immediately after eating, determined to spend the remainder of the night in his chambers. Once there, he was unable to relax, pacing back and forth within the confines of the small room until he drove himself mad.

If he wanted to, there were many women who would be more than happy to slake his lust. Not one to go long without female companionship, he had always been able to find a willing woman to spend a night with.

Or he used to. Since he met Solara, the thought of being with another woman did not appeal to him. He had not lain with a woman in months.

With a disgusted curse, he left the chambers, determined to forget all about Solara by visiting the pub and getting soundly drunk.

He sat with a few of the guards, listening to their ribald stories of the latest wench they had tumbled, refusing to think of a certain wench he could have had on multiple occasions and yet foolishly walked away.

Goblet after goblet of mead dulled the sharp ache inside him, yet his thoughts still focused on a scarlet-haired faerie with golden green eyes and creamy breasts that fit perfectly in the palm of his hand.

’Twas unfortunate the liquor did not quell the ache in his balls. Instead, it only served to fire up his libido, making him want to go in search of the woman who haunted his dreams.

And that he refused to do. He left the pub, determined to avoid the bathing area. Yet before he knew it, he found himself exactly where he swore he wouldn’t go.

The room was quiet and dark. Perhaps Solara had already left.

He shouldn’t be in there, he reminded himself as he entered the small chamber. Warm, humid air greeted his entrance, yet he heard no sounds. He should be happy she wasn’t there. Running into Solara here could only lead to trouble. And with every day that passed, he found it more and more difficult to avoid his desires.

The bathing chamber was little more than a small room at the end of an enclosed wooden building. The walls had been put up to afford privacy, yet many times entire families bathed together.

This summer had been so intensely warm, most had taken to bathing in the outdoor chamber, but he did not figure Solara would want to be outside. Yet she wasn’t in the enclosed room, so he took a chance and walked through the doorway leading to the open bath.

He blinked once, then twice, certain the vision before him was due to too much mead and not enough food at the evening meal. Solara sat in the round wooden tub, the full moon’s rays shooting down and surrounding her in an ethereal, silvery light. She was alone, completely secluded by the tall, stone enclosure that kept the eyes of the villagers away, but allowed the bath to be open to the stars above.

Her body appeared gossamer as she stood, her back turned to him. Rivulets of water streamed down her back, her wings folded inside her, affording him a glimpse of her perfectly formed body.

Had he ever seen her completely nude? No, he’d been close to her, had touched her, yet he’d never had the opportunity to view her body from afar.

Roarke forgot to breathe. Slender shoulders led to a waist that dipped in nicely, reminding him of the feel of his hands spanning her slender form. Her full, lush hips and rounded buttocks were made for a man’s hands. Shapely thighs led to very long legs. Legs he wanted wrapped tight around him.

His cock rose and strained against his breeches. How simple it would be to strip, slide into the tub with her and quench his lust within her hot pussy. He wanted it, she wanted it, yet his damned honor and allegiance to Garick prevented him from taking what was so willingly offered.

For the millionth time, he reminded himself that Solara belonged to another man. And that kind of vow he could not breach.

She bent over to retrieve a cloth from the water, and he sucked in a breath at the sight of her pussy so clearly outlined between her buttocks. An urge to bury his lips between her legs and lick the creamy juices from her cunt had his knees quaking. He let out a sigh borne of the frustration of the past week.

This was more than one man should have to bear.

Solara must have heard him, because she turned, holding the long cloth against her body. Her eyes widened as she caught sight of him leaning against the doorway.

Now would be a good time for him to leave. He’d gotten what he came for. He had seen her. And yet something compelled him to stay. Perhaps Solara’s lack of protest, perhaps his own weakness where she was concerned.

Her lips curved into a sensual smile as she took the cloth and dipped it into the water. She raised it high and squeezed it over her breasts so that the water ran down over her belly and between her legs.

Droplets fell from the thatch of hair on her sex.

Nipples that glowed a silvery rose in the moonlight hardened to sharp points. She rubbed the cloth over first one breast, then the other, caressing her body the way he wanted to. Her tongue snaked out and ran over her bottom lip before slipping back inside her mouth.

And still, her gaze remained fixed on him.

Like a seductive dance, she touched herself the way a lover would touch her, lightly tracing the swell of her breasts before teasing the upthrusting nipples with her fingers. She rolled the buds in between her thumb and forefinger, her mouth opening as a gasp of pleasure escaped.

Roarke opened his mouth too, licking his lips like a man thirsting for drink. The drink he was desperate for stood before him, drenched in bath water and weaving a torturous spell over him.

When her hands moved from her breasts to her sex, petting the curls at the juncture of her thighs, he let out a groan.

“Touch yourself, Roarke,” she whispered, her voice husky and thick as the night surrounding them. She dipped her fingers alongside her inner thighs, hovering near her clit. “I will not ask you to come near me, nor to touch me, but I wish to see your release.”

He should walk away, now, before he lost control completely. Yet her bold request compelled him, and he could not move his feet.

No, he would not touch her, would not have her in the way he wanted to, but he would obtain the release he so desperately needed. He moved his hand down and palmed his erection.

Solara arched a brow and fixed her gaze on his breeches. Knowing she watched made him harder, his balls tightening high against his body. He caressed his cock, loving the way she licked her lips, knowing by the flushing of her body that she was as aroused as he, and wishing to all the magical gods in the universe that their destinies were entwined.

But wishing would not make it so. This brief interlude with Solara would have to be enough to sustain him.

“Let me see your cock,” she said, her voice shaky, her fingers disappearing into the nest of curls between her legs. He pushed away from the wall and approached her, wanting her to see, needing to see her, knowing he had to be closer as he watched her pleasure herself.

She let out a low whimper and spread her legs wider, affording him a glimpse of her distended clit. The lips of her pussy were swollen. Stopping at the edge of the tub, he squeezed his shaft, rewarded with her gasp. Mere inches separated them. Her panting breath sailed across his cheek. He had only to reach out and he would be able to caress her skin, take her mouth, brand her as his.

But he didn’t.

Not taking his eyes off her questing fingers, he unlaced his breeches and took out his cock, slowly stroking it from base to tip. She watched the movements of his hand, her own keeping time to the rhythm he set.

When she dipped one slender finger into her swollen cunt, his breath caught and held. The sheer erotic pleasure of watching her touch herself nearly caused him to spill his seed. But he held back, wanting to let go at the exact moment she reached the pinnacle.

“Your cock is strong. Long, thick, pulsing with life. It was so big I could barely fit it into my mouth the first time. Do you remember that first time we touched, Roarke?” How could he forget anything about this faerie? She was everything he had ever wanted in a mate.

“Yes.”

“Your tongue is soft and warm. I’ve never come as hard as I did when you licked me. Now, at night when I’m lying in my bed, I touch myself, visions of your tongue licking my pussy driving me to climax over and over again.”

A groan escaped his lips before he could hold it back. His grip on his shaft tightened and he thrust it through his hand until just the tip appeared above his enclosed fist. A drop of pre-come spilled from the head, and he moved to swipe it off, reaching his hand out toward Solara.

As he knew she would, she leaned over and licked the fluid off his finger. His cock jerked and throbbed, his balls tight.

Foolish to get so close to her, yet Roarke could not stop himself. He inhaled and caught her sweet scent, a mixture of roses and the heady musk of aroused female.

“What do you dream of at night, Roarke? Do you think about me? In your mind, do you see me naked like this, touching myself like this?”

Yes, he dreamed this, and so much more. “I dream of taking you, making you mine, entering you and taking your virginity so that no other man can ever have you.” Her eyes blazed hot, her panting increased as she slipped two fingers inside her pussy. Clearly outlined in the well-lit night, her juices glistened on her fingers when she withdrew.