Valentine's Wishes (7 page)

“Cedar, we’re stuck inside unless the window in the kitchen is still open.”

She wound her arms tight around his body, and her voice held the wish-induced magic of love and desire.
She is such a tasty morsel, but we have to get out of the house.

The very words “we’re stuck” terrified him. He stamped on the stick of his knapsack, so it twirled up into the air, and he caught it without letting her fall. “Let’s see if we can get out, come on.” He flew up, and the way she first seemed so bemused, glancing down to the floor and then up to him, with her lovely little smile, soothed all his fears of being inside.

The need for her body ached hot.
If we can’t get out, I’ll not know what to do. I’ve never loved with a fairy inside a mortal dwelling. Maybe the blessings of Pan won’t work. Not inside.

“Up on the shelf, up there.” She waved her hand toward some wooden shelves.

“What?” He couldn’t see a way out.

“That’s where the wish went wrong.”

“Aye, is it?” He kissed the crown of her head. “Now where’s this window, so we can get out?”

She pointed to a doorway. “The kitchen window is nearly always open,” she whispered in his ear. He shivered with her breath warm on his skin and the hope of more of her out in the glory of the fresh air.

Her twilight blue gaze, soft and sweet, met his, and her smile, a promise of sensual pleasures to come, wrenched his gut. He clutched her tighter and flew in the gloom through the doorway into a kitchen. “Is this the window?”

“Yes, and Cedar,” she murmured, her mouth close to his jaw.

“What?”

“I love yer.”

Triumph roared inside him, loud and strong as it pulsed hard.
There has never been a fairy like this one and I adore her. She’s wonderful, lovely and most of all, tonight her luscious body will all be mine!
He hovered still and kissed her before he landed on the tiles she had pointed out and set her down.

Poppy stood, slightly wobbly, while he studied the gap of the open window. Here, over the window and the gap, hung the nasty lace with little holes that could lead to a slow starvation end for any fairy.

He folded his wings back and lifted the dangerous fabric up. The waft of fresh garden air sparked through him. The gap of the open window seemed wide enough, and he pulled her out behind him, glad to breathe the sharp, cold night air. “Now where, my little gem?”

“Up, over the top and to the front.” She pointed up toward the roof with her dainty finger. He caught her to him, lifted her in his embrace, and clutched her in his arms under his cloak. With one hand he caressed her thigh, and she tugged at the laces to open his tunic. A molten heated flow of desire raced through him. He flew up high above the roof, enjoying the brightness of the winter stars and the warmth of her against his chest.

Pleasure has never been quite like this at the court.

No matter how interesting the partners there, not one made his flesh pound with need in this way. This had nothing to do with her wish, potent though it was. He followed her breathy instructions, in between kisses, until they landed in the small chink in the brickwork in the porch. “Sweet thing, this is a swallow’s nest,” he murmured when they alighted.

“I know, but it works.” She yanked him after her, and once he balanced the knapsack in the corner where she seemed to keep her things, they embraced.

She gave a little growl as she meshed her lips with his; her fingers worked swiftly in their rush to gain access to his flesh. He pushed his thigh between hers as she tugged at his tunic laces.

“Oh, Cedar,” she said, and yanked the tunic over his head. He bent and planted rows of soft kisses on the curves of her breasts as he cupped them in his hands.

“My perfect, delicious fairy,” he murmured into the valley of her cleavage.

Poppy hooked one thigh around his. Slowly and keeping her clasped tight in his embrace he slid down with her into the soft layers of her bedding. She’d lined the nest with a variety of moss, feathers, and pale pink fluff. A cozy bed once they settled. Her giggle, as he unhooked and stripped off her gown, delighted him, and when he first stroked his hands over her silken flesh, her trembles shook through his fingers.

Poppy helped him drag his cloak to cover them both, and the rest of his clothes swiftly followed his tunic and her gown. The skin-to-skin softness as he embraced her drove his desire. She clung, sweeter than nectar, more enchanting than a midsummer morning, and his need for her surpassed the power of the wish.

The magic is hers and hers alone
. “Poppy?”

She smoothed her palms over him, bewitching as moonlight, stroking more fire into his flesh.

“What?” she murmured.

“I love yer.”

“Please, yes please, Cedar. Love me a lot,” she whispered the wine tipsy words over his chest and up onto his neck.

“’Twill be my very great pleasure,” he said, and again cupped her breasts with both hands. He rolled her nipples until they stood hard like winter berries beneath his thumbs, and her gasped moan poured molten heat through his body.

He ached to have her. The way her eyes closed, and her mouth—rosy, moist, and welcoming—pouted. He had to kiss her. Their tongues met while her body molded to his. She rubbed her nipples against his chest, and the curls at the apex of her thighs teased his erection.

He tore his mouth from hers. Things were going too fast. “Not yet, sweetness,” he whispered because he wanted her need to be ravenous, like his own. She whimpered when he stroked the heat between her parted thighs. The moist flesh made his mouth water.

“Cedar, now. I want yer now,” she said with a soft sigh.

“Wait a little, my sweet,” he answered, and slid two fingers deep inside her. She arched up against him with a cry. Delighting in her excitement, he led her in the sweetest of rhythms. Her soft cries became sharper when he stroked over the tiny bud to give her more pleasure, and her hips rose and fell in answer to his hand. The soft cries came closer and closer together as she neared the peak, and his gasps of breath matched hers; he couldn’t help but try harder to send her into bliss.

Her rhythmic breathing told how near the edge loomed, and he sucked her nipple into his mouth, stroked it with his tongue. A huge wave of need ripped through him as spasms began inside her.

I can’t wait any longer!

“Oh, please,” she cried when he slid his fingers from her. He lay between her parted thighs, his erection seeking its home. Sheer need ran through him in a flood when he slid inside her. The pleasured cries she made pushed him much too swiftly close to the brink.

She thrust her hips up toward him, hauled him closer still, her nails digging deep into his skin. Strawberry sweet her flesh pulsed around his, and they were there, gasping and moaning together as the orgasm savage and wild took him with her. Only when she stopped writhing against him, did he thank Pan for his blessings, and begin again. This time he went slowly. He enjoyed every inch of her with deep measured thrusts to take her further into pleasure.

She matched his movements, and her breath sounded harsh and swift, while the rhythm of her flesh thrilled through his, and together their glow lit the inside of the nest. The dazzle they created blazed like the neon lights he’d seen on his journey.

“Cedar, I love ye.” Her words tore through him and the edge of his control snapped. He plundered her body with his, thrust hard and fast into her, and her answering moans drove him over the edge.

Their cries echoed loud in the chill winter air.

Poppy shimmered like a star and threw her arms around him while he caught his breath and breathed her magic in. Her soft sighs filled him with an awed joy.
Pleasure I’ve shared many times, but never like this, not once so deep, bright, and raw.
He held her close, stroked her hair to smoothness while she snuggled against him, and finally her soft breaths and dimming light told him she slept.

Tomorrow I’ll wake with her beside me and our love can truly begin.

* * * *

Warmth cocooned her this morning. Enjoying the delicious sensation Poppy turned over and opened her eyes. “Oh.”

Her stomach rolled. Icy trickles raced down her spine.

Oh, what have I done?

Beside her, still asleep, rested the fairy she so well remembered from the court, and now, in a sudden heady stream of images, she remembered all of him from last night. A flush of heat rushed through her body.

What must he think of me?
A tiny groan left her.
The punch. The wish. He drank it and I drank it too. I so wanted him to love me. The mortals, they’ve drunk it as well.

Waves of nauseas guilt spread upward.
The poor girls, all with the wrong men, and I’ve ended up with him beside me but not in the way I ever hoped or imagined it might happen.

She glanced at his perfect handsome face relaxed in sleep.
Why of all the fairies there could be, did it have to be him who came to see me? What will he say to be wished into love with me?

She wrinkled her nose as a fresh horror became possible.

“Oh, by the moon’s bright beams!” She edged away from the enticement of his muscular body, though she ached to hold him again, to kiss him, and feel his arms around her.

What of the wish’s power? Is it over? It must be or I’d not feel so guilty. But I still love him? How can I tell what’s real or not? I always found him so charming, so desirable, I understand the word now, and I really didn’t when I left the court. But it was desire. All that time ago, my stomach would flutter whenever I saw him. My tongue always tied itself in knots when he spoke to me.
The memory bit sharp, because now she knew a lot more about him.

Too much
.

I’ve got to get dressed. Maybe he’ll forget last night, the punch was so strong and the wish so much. Perhaps, even if he doesn’t forget, he might forgive me?

Quietly she rummaged about and found a long sleeved winter gown.
He said he loved me last night. No, the words came from the punch and the wish, not him. How could he love me? Nonsense, remember back home.

A succession of exquisite and willing fairies, who all made their intentions clear almost formed his guard of honor at the court. The memories nipped and bit sharp.
How often did I watch them all trail after him like ants on a spilled blob of honey. What, by the wind in the leaves, would he see in some clumsy, stupid fairy like me?
The glimmer of his shoulders made her ache inside, but she ignored the desire to feel his muscles under her fingers again and his warm lips against her own. Slow and silent, so as not to wake him yet, she drew the gown over her head, searched to find a sleeve.

“What are yer doing?”

She startled at his voice, jerked the fabric down over her face, so she could see him and wished she hadn’t. His hazel eyes twinkled, full of amusement they laughed at her, so a fiery blaze scorched her cheeks.

“I’m getting dressed,” she whispered and couldn’t meet his gaze any longer.

“Already?”

Her stomach flipped again and she peeked up to his smile.
So much is wrapped up in his one little word. Does he mean he wants me? Should I take the gown off? No, I can’t! I’m so ashamed of myself. What is supposed to happen now?
She stared as his smile grew and his gaze beckoned, enticing her closer. A tingle of pleasure rose on her skin at his expression. He looked at her in just the same way he had last night.
Does he love me? Is his smile still the effects of the wish?

“Are yer feeling all right?” he asked as he sat up, and reached out to where she knelt. He slid the blue gown up from around her neck and over her head.

She nodded, suddenly too shy to say a word while his slow gaze followed the contours of her body, and her nipples throbbed.

“Do yer remember it all?” he asked, and wrapped an arm around her. He guided her down next to him and pulled the cape over them.

“Yes, the wish went wrong and the mortals all got muddled up,” she murmured. Tears sparked hot because she remembered more, and the memory bloomed to send sweet waves of sensation racing over her to spark the need for him to touch her and kiss her again.

“I don’t mean the mortals, my bud,” he said and breathed against her throat kissing chills into her skin.

She gave a little whimper as he placed more soft kisses against her ear, breathed warm on her neck, and made her shivers much more intense. She slipped her arms around the warmth of his body to enjoy his embrace and hardly dare hope for what might come next. “Aye, I remember. We both drank the punch and yer said yer loved me.”

“And yer promised to love me not just last night but today too,” he said touching under her chin so she must meet his bright gaze.

“I did.” Tears stung her eyes because he must know, as she did, the wish had melted away. “I’m sorry, Cedar, so very sorry.” She still loved him but he might no longer love her. And he’d know now what she’d done. He might be angry she’d wished and tricked him into love. “Forgive me, please? I promise I’ll never make another wish like it.”

His laugh vanquished her muddled doubts. His hazel eyes twinkled with starry bright gleams.

“My sweet, I mean to hold yer to the word yer gave me last night. ’Twas a bargain, was it not? I want yer to love me this morn, love me and let me love ye.” He cupped her breast and slid his knee in between hers.

Filled with a rush of last night’s unbelievable and delightful sensations, she couldn’t find any words to question him and covered his mouth with hers. A sigh escaped her as his fingers stroked and rubbed one of her nipples until it swelled hot and rigid, and she whimpered when he moved to the other.

The tortuous guilt drained away with the need for him flaming between her thighs. He teased her tongue, sucking on it, flickering his against it until quivers romped over her, and then, thank Pan, he moved.

Warm and wet, he traced his tongue down her throat, bent his head to circle a nipple, so she shook with desire. “Oh,” she moaned when he pulled her nipple inside the heat of his mouth, and he sucked harder, as he slid his fingers between her thighs. She lost any other thought in the heady joy of his skill to give her waves of pleasure.