The Dark Queen (The Dark Queens Book 5) (21 page)

Leaning up on tiptoe she knew she was being reckless and imprudent, but she was so tired of fighting this.

“What color should I be in then?” she asked in her huskiest drawl.

His pupils dilated, taking up nearly all of his irises and she couldn’t help but smirk. Enjoying the fact that she held such power over him already. And not because she’d tapped into black magick, no, this power was purely innate and made her giddy with joy.

A man she liked liked her back. It was as simple as that, and it was glorious.

He ran the pads of his fingers down her bicep, sliding it along the half sleeve of her dress and her flesh at the same time, breaking her out in a heated wash of desperate longing.

“White, my darkness. I love you in white.”

George had also liked her in white. And for years, she’d learned to hate the color, but she didn’t hate it now.

She pursed her lips, so close to his own that she shared breath with him. It would be nothing to lean up and snatch a kiss from him. He’d let her. She knew it.

But Fable wanted a lot more than just a kiss.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, and this time, she didn’t have to try to make her voice sound husky because it already naturally was.

It was his turn to shiver.

Unable to resist from touching him as she’d wanted to all day, she threaded her fingers through his silken hair, playing idly with the feather tied into it. His eyelids flickered with suppressed desire.

And that’s when she made the decision.

She was going to make love to him.

Tonight.

No regrets. No matter what. Strong magic was at work here, ancient and primal magic that was the very solid basis and foundation for all of Kingdom. The power of true mates converging.

Fable had been around her Auntie Aphrodite long enough to recognize the taste and texture of it, and it was here. All around them, but it was delicate magic still. Just barely in its infancy. Like a budding bloom still young and weak on the surface, but it was just beneath the surface where the true power gathered. All it needed was a little spark, a little nudge to turn the ember into a flame.

But did she dare?

“You want to know something about me, Owiot?” she asked sweetly, softly.

He grunted in an adorable fashion, and she decided to take the leap, to brave the unknown and trust that just this once, she didn’t have to fear her heart being broken.

“The last time I was really happy was the day I turned seventeen. I still lived in the below, in Seren, with my family. And though I had a good family, the reason why I was so happy was because that was the day that I finally got to fulfill my dream of going to the above. Stepping through that portal between realms was the very last memory I have of knowing true joy.”

His gaze turned sad, and she took a deep breath because she wasn’t done. What she was about to do now, it was either the stupidest or the bravest thing she’d ever done in her life. Only time would tell. Ignoring the razor tipped butterfly wings swarming through her belly she whispered the words straight from her heart.

“Until now, Starlight. Until you.” Then she framed his face with her hands and waited, fingers twitching from fear and the silent recriminations that maybe she’d misunderstood his subtle cues, maybe she shouldn’t have said—

“Darkness,” he moaned.

Full on shivery moaned too. Like a mix between a growl and a groan of desperate need and she dug her toes into the thick carpet of grass.

And then they were moving, being whisked through a tunnel of stars. And she wasn’t the one doing it. It was his magic that spirited them away.

Then they were there.

Wherever there was. A land brimming with starlight and fae light that twinkled through the dusky blue sky. Flowers with bright red and pink bulbs swayed as high as her hips and gave off an exotic perfume of Eastern realm scents—midnight jasmine and dusky patchouli.

The field of flowers stretched out as far as the eye could see in every direction.

She swallowed. “Flowers?”

His touch was firm, and sure as he brushed them up her arms, telling her exactly why he’d brought her here.

Her stomach flipped almost painfully to her knees, and her pulse couldn’t seem to stop hammering through her veins.

“Because,” he said in that same scratchy tenor, “this is how I see you, my darkness.”

She frowned, but his fingers brushed at the lines, smoothing them out. “As my exotic flower. This is where you should lay your head every night, beneath the stars, in a field full of flowers.”

Fable wasn’t sure what she was nodding about, but she was nodding all the same.

“And this,” he said, stepping so close into her sphere of space that not an inch of distance separated them now, “is where I’ll make love to you tonight. If you’ll let me.”

“Yes,” she squeaked. “Yes, oh goddess yes.”

~*~

Owiot

S
he’d seen his darkest hour, witnessed the life he’d had to end, the life he’d loved then and even now, and Fable still wanted him.

Her enthusiastic yes had almost completely undone him.

Feeling the animal of the Great Spirit within him stir to life, he growled triumphantly and then proceeded to do to Fable as he’d dreamt of doing since the very first moment he’d seen her.

“I love this dress on you,” he said, then dug his fingers into the square collar and with a firm yank ripped the fabric in two. Exposing a long vee of smooth, polished ebony skin to his greedy and voracious gaze.

She gasped, chest heaving, causing her beautifully rounded breasts to rise and fall sharply.

With a greedy groan, he cupped one breast in his large palm. Her skin was so soft, like the velvet touch of a rose petal. Her flesh puckered under his touch, and the constant heavy sway of her breaths was an erotic and hypnotizing sight. He squeezed delicately and then unable to resist the temptation of her any longer, he shrugged the tattered edge of her dress down to her waist with his free hand, exposing the fullness of her from the waist up.

The contrast of them together, it was a sight to behold.

He was mahogany. She was ebony. Reddish-brown and deepest black—like earth and sky when they met each night. Her nipples were even darker than the rest of her, and small disks the size of his thumb. Her stomach was flat, but toned muscle. Her neck was long, like a black swan’s—a thing of regal and majestic beauty.

“My gods,” he whispered in reverent delight.

She curled her finger beneath his jaw, forcing him to look into her golden, tawny eyes. Eyes that practically glowed in the moonlight.

With the fae light dancing behind her, and the swaying blooms all around them, it was easy to imagine that Fable was little more than a mirage. An image he’d conjured up from the deepest depths of his heart to fill the void there for so long.

But like fog over rolling waters, spirits always faded with the morning light, and he was terrified she’d do the same.

“Will you leave me, Fable?” he asked without censure, without thought, both panicked and nervous to hear her response.

She shook her head. “I’m here now, Owiot.”

It wasn’t the answer he wanted, but it would have to do for now. Sliding his hand down to where the fabric had bunched around her waist, he tugged at it, and she took the hint. She shimmied her hips as she helped him push it down. It slipped off her easily, puddling at her feet in a snow-white heap.

Taking a measured step back, he drank in the sight of her. Nude beneath the moonlight, wearing only a smile and a wreath of white flowers, he suffered the strangest urge to grab her and never let go.

“Stop thinking and just look at me, Starlight,” she said it softly, and the words carried on the jasmine scented breeze like the toll of bells.

Then lifting her hands above her head, she began to sway. Her legs were long and lean, her center was neatly trimmed, and though he couldn’t wait to go exploring, he was entranced by the glide of her hips. Broader than her waist by several inches, she was a voluptuous woman, and his entire body ached to join with her.

“Did you know?” she said, as she continued to sway. “That I am more than mere darkness?”

Clearing his throat to try and clear the fog of lust from his brain long enough that he could concentrate on her words, he said, “No.”

Her rose red lips tipped up at the corners. “I am. I am shadow too. I am the deepest depths of the ocean blue. Black as the night and mysterious as the void.”

And then her swaying became more powerful, quicker. Until her form began to blur, to become echo images of herself, and then finally...she fractured apart into banding swirls of pearly grays and black.

That shadow moved like a thought toward him, surrounding him in a tight embrace. He inhaled deeply, skin breaking out in a wash of heated need as he felt the flow and swell of her power, her presence move over him like massaging fingers. From the crown of his head to the tips of his feet.

The pressure at his cheek increased, and he knew she’d kissed him then, but she didn’t stop. She continued to pepper his jaw, his nose, his forehead, cheeks, and neck until he was gasping for breath from her phantom kisses.

And all the while he felt her finger-like touch move all over him.

As quickly as it had begun, her power snapped back, and she was form once more. A woman of night and shadow, smiling up at him with a mischievous twinkle in her lioness eyes. 

“Nice bum,” she said in a husky drawl.

Frowning, he glanced down and then chuckled.

It was only then that he realized her movements hadn’t been random at all, she’d undressed him and he’d never even noticed. His leggings had been tossed to who knew where. Away. Probably gone for good. But he didn’t care. He could fashion another.

“Fable,” he said.

“Yes, Owiot?”

Her scent of flowers overwhelmed his senses. He wanted to take her; to drive into her as was his nature. With primal abandon and enthusiasm. But he didn’t dare until he got her consent. Deep down he’d always suspected that Aiyana’s leaving had had everything to do with his strong sexual appetites. In life he was gentle, thoughtful, and caring, but when it came to sex his desires were claiming and even sometimes crazed.

“Can you accept me as I am?”

Her gaze traveled slowly down, landing on his rock hard and painfully aching penis and remaining there for several long, tense seconds as her grin slowly grew wider and wider. Wetting her lips, she finally said, “Oh, I think I can handle whatever you’ve got to give me, male.”

That was all he needed to know.

Closing the scant distance between them, he yanked her to him. Owiot was a god, a god born of the sky god himself. A powerful and majestic spirit built of thunder and lightning.

When he took her, the sky began to rumble.

She gasped, but not with fear. Slamming her form tight to his, he hooked a foot behind her knee and twisted, causing them both to tumble to the ground. He shifted, to take the brunt of the fall.

A startled laugh dropped off her tongue, but that laugh soon turned into a moan when he rolled her onto her back and cupped both her breasts in hand.

“Oh goddess,” she whimpered.

Lowering his head, he took one tight bud into his mouth, suckling and laving his tongue along the turgid bit of pebbled flesh. Her nails dug into his scalp as she began to writhe and moan beneath him.

But he wasn’t done. He nipped at her nipple too. Biting down until he left a crescent mark, not hard enough to break the skin, but hard enough to let her know she was with him. Hard enough to leave his mark, his imprint upon her.

Her back bowed, and a keening noise crawled up her throat. “Owiot! More!”

With an animal growl, he forced himself off the one breast, and onto the other. Her skin tasted of salt, soap, and perfume—an intoxicating combination that he wanted to lick and suckle at all night long.

He could love on her breasts forever, but there was another area of her body that he wished to become more intimately familiar with.

Moving over her body, and trapping her legs between his, he proceeded to move slowly down. Taking his time as he meandered closer and closer to the heated core of her femininity. He pressed kisses onto her stomach, her ribs, nipped and suckled at her sweet belly button.

And the farther south he went, the more wild and jerky her movements became. Then he kissed her inner thigh, and she tensed up.

“Holy Tartarus!” She grunted, halfway sitting as her stomach flexed and her nails dug in deeper to his scalp.

She took a fistful of his hair in hand and tugged.

Her eyes were aglow with lust and desire. Her full lips looked swollen and bee stung, as though she’d been biting down hard on them.

“You don’t waste any time, do you, big guy?”

His only answer was a throaty chuckle. With a flick of his head, he jerked out of her grip, and spread her legs wide, exposing her to his greedy gaze.

She was pink and flushed down there. He’d expected every inch of her to be as dark as the rest, so it was shocking—almost hypnotizing—to see such vivid color.

“Fable, my Fable,” he murmured, incoherent with desire.

She’d sat up and was resting her weight on her hands. Knowing exactly what he wanted, what he needed, she nodded.

Moving one of her hands, she set it on the crown of his head and pushed gently. The sky exploded with lightning, streaking across the navy blue canvas with violent veins of silver and gold.

Then she laid back, and he settled in to feast.

Fable

T
he man—god—was as gorgeous nude as he was dressed. His skin gleaming like polished cherry wood.

His cock had been more than adequate in size and beautifully veiny and plump at the tip. His abdomen as hard as granite and both smooth and rippled as she’d wandered her fingers over him. With his long hair billowing behind him, she’d felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

That was until he’d decided to start their night off between her thighs.

When Owiot had asked for permission, she hadn’t exactly expected him to go down there so soon. She’d had plenty of lovers in her life, and eventually, they’d gotten around to oral intercourse, but never on the first time. It had always been something they’d had to work themselves up to.