Curse of the Fae King (Scattered Siblings) Page 2

  Then the dragonet’s head snaked between them. Lipstick’s mewl brought her back to her senses. She jerked out of the Fae’s arms and pulled her cloak tight around her chest. “Okay, I get that you’re some otherworld sex toy, but you’re sure as hell not playing with me.”

  Chapter Two

  The escaped dragonet was the cutest thing ever, and Meena didn’t want Leonidas taking out his anger on Lipstick. When the Fae’s you-can’t-resist-me smile turned into a frown, she hid her laughter with a cough—but her grin gave her away. Then she shivered at the lack of body contact. This attraction between them felt special and precious—not something she should discard on a whim. Only she wanted a relationship with a future, not a quickie on the cliff top with an oversexed…drop-dead sexy…Fae.

  He lifted his chin and looked down his nose at the baby dragon but still tossed him another chunk of raw meat. Lipstick pounced like a puppy and cradled it between his front paws. Even Leonidas laughed; then he turned to Meena. “I’d have thought my intentions were obvious.”

  Obvious? Necessary, more like. She’d never lusted after anyone before. Her pussy craved the passion he promised, but she needed time to think. Backing off, she tucked a stray curl back behind her ear. “Well, thank Hekate your dragon’s got more sense than me. Don’t you dare touch me. Do I have to remind you that you’ve got blood from raw meat on your hands? Try to keep up, Fairy boy.”

  She pulled the black evening gloves that completed her Vampire outfit back on and hurried toward the Church Stairs—one hundred and ninety nine steps cut into the cliff side to connect the abbey ruins to the river estuary below. When she cast one last look over her shoulder, the sweet-talking Fae warrior and his scarlet dragonet had vanished.

  “Stuck-up Fae,” she muttered. “He’s too sexy for his own good, what with all that corded muscle and his stunning emerald-hued stare. He better look out for Lipstick once he gets him home. Not that there’s much I can do if he doesn’t.”

  Right now her life sucked—no job, no real friends, and no prospect of a romance. And how many twenty-two-year-olds still lived with their mother? Okay, her mother was cool and funny, a minor scion of the House of Hekate. She’d packed up and left when the Witch Council banished her daughter, and she’d never once blamed Meena for their exile.

  Now that she’d gotten used to it, Meena loved the small Yorkshire town where they’d made a new life, and she always found peace in the abbey’s grounds. The ruins dominated the cliff top in a show of enduring strength in a short-lived mortal world. Not that she even knew if she was immortal. She never got ill, but that didn’t mean she’d live forever. Sweet Goddess! Stranded in this mundane world with neither companions nor magic, Meena wasn’t even sure she wanted immortality.

  No wonder that stiff-backed Fae drew her in the way a lightning rod attracts electricity. They shared a common background, but he’d flashed back to the otherworld and left her. Just bloody walked away, and left me when I’m burning for more. Damn it, how much rejection could one girl take? The Witch Council had put a price on her head; then her drop-dead gorgeous warrior—with his haughty manner and kissable lips—abandoned her on the cliff top.

  Better to live in the human world, even if she didn’t quite fit, than return home to fickle Fae and Witches who wanted to execute her. Earlier she’d wandered through the abbey’s Gothic arches and roofless walls, trying to work out what she wanted from life. Then a cute baby dragon distracted her. A dragon, for goodness’ sake.

  Shame about his bad-tempered owner. He’d bawled her out and mocked her, but even at his angriest, he’d offered to have sex with her. Demanded to screw her, more like, but his voice had warmed the coldest corners of her soul.

  She hadn’t expected that kiss, but her body still thrummed with the need of him. At least the sweetie-pie dragonet had interfered before she did something she’d always regret. Although right now, she wished she’d surrendered rather than stopped. She wanted to forget the pair of them and plan out her future, but the way that let-me-fuck-you Fae had moved with such dangerous, deadly grace fascinated her.

  Just thinking about his smooth-as-honey voice made her pussy tingle with damp heat. Move over, Bruno Mars; there’s a new guy in town. She could almost hear him tell her to open her legs, and her nipples hardened at the thought. She’d missed her chance to fondle and pet him the way she’d stroked his dragon, but his furious glower had pinned her hands to her side. She could still hear him demand a forfeit in that toe-tingling, deeper-than-ocean voice.

  His voice! The jackass Fairy enthralled me with his voice.

  He’d stood there and dripped magic, and she’d drunk it in—drunk him in—like a drug. If he was here right now, he’d sure as hell be sporting a black eye. She’d make certain of that. Bespelled or not, she knew that when she stroked herself to sleep tonight, it would be his face that filled her dreams. Or did she mean her nightmares? Okay, momentary madness over, she needed to sort out her head before she returned home.

  She knew spells and magic the way a university professor knows facts and figures—but nothing worked for her. One word, one gesture from her mother, and herbs grew at a phenomenal rate. One minute with Meena, and they curled up and died. Time to move on and study something worthwhile—law or accountancy perhaps.

  Boring—but at least they’ll pay my rent.

  * * * *

  Elizabeth Sybil’s Herb Farm stood close to the road, but tonight the walk home seemed endless. When the rain started, Meena pulled up her hood and let it fall over her face, but briefly, she rested her fingers on the back of her neck. Right where the Fae warrior had kissed her.

  At least her sanity had returned before she did something stupid. Like let him between her legs. For the first time she hated her sensible streak. She wanted to run wild and free—her insatiable Fae at her side. Okay, that’s not happening. And, her witchy side demanded, whose fault is that?

  Rather than sulk over all the good things her stupid, underdeveloped powers cost her, she hurried home to change her clothes. Mr. Open Your Legs and Let Me Love You had stroked her pussy through her skirt—right after he’d tossed that cute baby dragon raw meat.

  Ugh! Blood on my skirt! Thanks for nothing.

  At least she’d stood up for herself and sent him away with a flea in his ear, but she treasured his smooth compliments. He’d even called her beautiful, and just for an instant, she’d believed him. Finally the farmhouse came into sight. Unlike Yorkshire’s other herb farms, Elizabeth Sybil’s didn’t encourage visitors. Meena’s mother had been a renowned seer in the otherworld, but she hadn’t made a single prediction since they fled to Whitby. Instead she used her green-fingered magic to grow the best herbs in the county.

  For once Meena’s skin didn’t tingle as she passed her mother’s protective barriers—the ones that kept otherworld creatures at bay. Instead she did an abrupt double take. Yes, that really is Lipstick grazing his way through our profit margins.

  She ran toward him, flapping her arms to attract his attention. “Get out of there, you dumb dragon.”

  He roared out a welcome and galloped to her side, but now he stood as tall as a fully grown pony. How fast can one dragon grow? His tail wrapped around her waist, and his forked tongue flicked over her face.

  “Down, boy. Stop it. Yecch. You’re worse than an oversize puppy. Did you ditch the jackass Fairy again? Yes, I get that you’re pleased to see me, but have you seen my mum? Come on, let’s get you something to eat; then we’ll see what you’ve done to our herbs.”

  The drizzle lightened, but thunder rolled across the moors. Lightning zigzagged through the clouds. Her muscular Fae flashed into the garden, but he was more dominant warrior than passionate lover.

  Meena fondled the dragonet’s ear. “Hey, here’s Daddy, come to take you home again. What’s up? Did your dragon ditch you?”

  “No, he did not. It’s more like he popped in and out of Whitby like a needle through cloth until he sensed your trail. Apparently my drago
n wanted to spend some time with the fascinating, slender creature that fed him cheese sandwiches rather than stay with his rightful owner—the one that feeds him fresh meat.”

  Fascinating? Her? More points to the Fairy boy for his silver tongue, only he was a fully grown man, and judging by the bulge in his trousers, a sexually frustrated one. After the way he’d used his voice to enthrall her, she was on to his tricks.

  Wasn’t she?

  The Fae stood straight and tall—a Spanish grandee dripping masculine pride—and he completely ignored the miserable weather. She watched as a raindrop landed on his cheek and flowed toward his wide, sensual lips—lips she needed to lick and taste. His voice pushed her into a world where all she wanted was sex, sin, and the fulfillment of the sizzling desires he woke inside her, even when he bellowed like a bull on the rampage. Was she weak-kneed and gasping? Yeah, but she refused to be the pathetic I-just-can’t-help-myself little woman if he tried to seduce her again.

  Meena tapped her foot and pointed at Lipstick. “Hello? Dragon? Herbs? A little control here, please. That’s my family’s income he’s gobbling.”

  He stood there—all dignity and disdain. “I shall, of course, recompense you.”

  Could his spine get any stiffer? Stuck-up, sexy Fae.

  “With Fairy gold?” she snapped. “The sort that turns to dross when you’re not looking?”

  He raised an eyebrow, stared down his nose. “Not mine.”

  Lipstick snatched another mouthful of rosemary bush and let her shove him a couple of steps toward the house.

  Frustrated, she snapped, “Keep your gold, and keep Lipstick out of our herb beds. My mother will fix everything in an instant.”

  Lipstick crunched the top off another rosemary bush. He chewed with obvious satisfaction; then his tail shot out, wrapped around Meena’s waist, and lifted her off to the side. He eyed the remaining bushes hungrily, squatted on his haunches, and heaved a smoke-filled sigh. He clearly didn’t plan on leaving anytime soon.

  “My dragon”—and yes, the haughty Fae did emphasize that my—“needs meat to grow. Since he refuses to stay in my stables, you must feed him.”

  “Hello? Vegetarian here. Cheese and eggs only, topped off with lashings of veg and herbs.”

  “Hello?” He mimicked her tone and pointed at his chest. “Carnivore here. And you accused me of starving my dragon.”

  Even when he was sarcastic, his deep, testosterone-filled voice sent tingles running down her spine, but this time she’d stay strong and resist him. Maybe. When she breathed in his melted-chocolate essence, she wanted to strip off his leather waistcoat, unfasten his shirt, and taste his bare chest. Damn it, she was on to his tricksy voice and his enthralling presence. At least her brain was, but her body…

  Her mouth dried as she imagined him in her bed, his fingers dancing across her clit. Not going there, remember? Finally she croaked, “Then flash back to Fairyland, and fetch him a dead animal or something. Remember, Mum’s militant in her refusal to touch meat.”

  She looked around. Where was her mum anyway? The 4x4 was parked out front, and her mother was too well-mannered to ignore guests, even carnivorous ones.

  Lipstick growled softly and wound his sinuous tail back around her waist.

  Possessive dragon. Furious, lickable Fae. Mine.

  Lipstick’s open devotion thrilled her, but she needed to take the Fae’s words with a pinch of salt. Glib compliments rolled off his tongue, all overlaid with the compulsion for her to open her legs and let him fuck her—but she wouldn’t let him fool her again. The sooner he flashed out of her life the better, only maybe she should kiss him first—just to check it wasn’t animal attraction that made her heart race. Her cunt ached at the thought. She lusted after this otherworld warrior like a bitch coming into heat. “I’ll say this slowly. Go fetch Lipstick a meat treat. Just don’t expect anyone else here to touch it.”

  Furrows ridged Leonidas’s forehead, and his eyes glazed in concentration. Finally he admitted, “I cannot.”

  Aware she’d missed something important, she stopped worrying about her herbs and asked, “Sorry. You can’t what?”

  “Enough! No more games. What are you? And what have you done to me?” He roared so loudly the dragonet dropped its ears and backed away. Lipstick growled softly when Leonidas stepped closer to Meena and gripped her arm so hard she winced. I can almost feel him crushing my bones.

  Surprise turned her voice into a squeak. “Me? Let go, jackass. You’re hurting me. Seriously, have you considered anger management classes?”

  His touch was rough—nothing like the sexual delight they’d shared on the cliffs—designed to crumble her sarcastic defenses. Instead it filled her with sexual need. She wanted to unfasten that tightly bound queue and run her fingers through his hair. In her dreams she’d rock her hips against his cock and feel the hard length of him press into her body. He thrilled her, fascinated her, and newly awakened desires overwhelmed her. She couldn’t breathe around him. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t move. If she were braver, she’d wipe the raindrops from his cheeks—with her tongue.

  She should mock him for using magic to seduce his way between her legs. Meena knew that…really. Only she couldn’t keep her gaze from those lips. Full, sensual, and stern—they enchanted her as much as his voice.

  “Goth creature,” he roared again, “you will release me, or I’ll make you suffer in ways you didn’t believe possible.”

  So much for my need to nibble on his sexy pointed ears or taste his lips.

  Chapter Three

  Meena surprised Leonidas with a swift kick to his shins and a twist of her shoulders. He dropped her arm and narrowed his eyes, but she quickly backed off. Lipstick growled and bared his teeth at the Fae. His scales lifted like hackles, and he tried for a deadly dragon’s roar.

  Meena expected him to belch flames, but she giggled when only a smoke ring slipped out of his throat. The Fae’s eyes turned as black as Whitby jet. She could feel the fury coming off him in waves. His voice was menacing and low. “You enchant me, laugh at me, and corrupt my war dragon.”

  “I guess Lipstick’s a lover, not a fighter,” Meena taunted. “And in case it escaped your attention, I don’t do magic, enchantments, or spells.”

  The Fae’s frown deepened, and his intense glare singed her soul “You may not, but someone has drained my powers and trapped me here. Maybe this elusive mother of yours knows your sharp tongue keeps suitors at bay. Does she plan to make me mate you before she releases me?”

  “Mate me?” Humiliation scalded Meena’s cheeks. No way would she spread her legs for this emerald-eyed Fae—not when he used magic to lower her resistance. He stood tall and arrogant—all lordly Fae and come-swoon-at-my-feet swagger. Beg him to fuck them, more like. But Meena was determined to stay strong and resist. Wasn’t she?

  Her aggravating warrior moved behind her and whispered in her ear. “Despite the way you assaulted my shins, insulted me, and practically stole my dragon, it would not be a hardship.”

  “Not a hardship?” she squealed. “Don’t you mean not happening? When I take a lover, it will be a man who cares about me, not some otherworld bully who enthralls me with his toe-tingling voice and stunning green eyes.”

  “Let me love you.” Leonidas slipped from warrior to sexual virtuoso in an instant. Again, lightning flashed dark zigzags through his aura. His voice—a rich, sexy rumble—made her want to screw him until his eyes rolled back in his head.

  No way. This time, she refused to fall victim to his spell. “Back off, jackass, and listen. So not happening. Capisce?”

  He turned her to face him, and after a brief, puzzled look, his mesmerizing gaze held hers. “Let me stroke and squeeze your beautiful breasts until you purr louder than my dragon. You seethe with desires no human male can fulfill. Let me satisfy your most basic instincts, right here among the sweet-scented herbs. I’ll make you come over and over, maybe even impregnate you, then you will let me go.”

  He he
ld his breath as she swayed closer to his chest—then Lipstick growled and broke the sensual connection between them. Almost, almost, she could feel her defenses crumble. Thank you, Hekate. I’m so glad you sent the dragon, honest—

  Furious that he’d slipped past her barriers again, Meena landed a resounding slap on his cheek. Her glove softened the impact, but there was still a satisfying red mark on his skin. “If I wanted a man, I’d find one, but it wouldn’t be a loudmouthed, oversexed jackass who uses his magic to seduce me.”

  LEONIDAS LOOKED HER over, his gaze condescending and slow. As King of the Fae, he should despise her for her insolence. Instead he found her…charming. This impudent woman wrapped in a crimson-lined cloak dazzled him. Her hood still protected her hair, but he remembered each rainbow-streaked curl from their first meeting on the cliff top.

  He’d thought her hair shone like a dark raven’s wing painted with streaks of emerald. There’d been purple, blue, and red in the mix too. Back in the abbey graveyard, he’d wanted to sort and straighten each strand before tasted her tempting red lips. Like every immortal, she had fangs—not the savage, throat-tearing sort. More the tiny, sexy sort that he wanted her to scrape across his skin as she licked and nibbled at his body.

  Scarlet kisses, she’d called her newly bought lipstick, and that was what he wanted from her. Scarlet kisses that set his toes tingling, then spread like wildfire into his balls. No matter how this Goth creature disparaged him, he was still the king of the Fairies—especially the oversexed ones. Soon he’d show her what a bonus that could be.

  Elves’ blood, he loved this verbal sparring with this— What did she call herself? Wannabe Vampire? Fae courtiers flattered and kowtowed to him, but this woman used her sarcasm the way his warriors used swords and arrows. Her quick wits recognized the magic in his voice, and she felt the darkness that whirled around him like a tornado. Her buxom curves and handspan waist enthralled him, but much as he wanted to stay at her side, he couldn’t. Not without becoming the very thing he despised.