Ashes of the Fae Read online

  “What is it?”

  “Just you.” My eyes were glued to the table as we spoke, only looking up the moment he replied.

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you. You’re absolutely adorable.”

  “I…am?” He grinned, his inability to blush not even remotely hiding the fact he would be if he could.

  “Yes. You are.” I chuckled, untying the coat to escape the heat that overtook me before wriggling out of it. Where the comfort between us had started to flow, as my jacket fell away, I could see in his face that my choice of dress had immediately choked him.

  As discreetly as he tried to look away, the undeniable paleness of the skin my V-neck was doing a number on his gentlemanly principles. I could feel his tension, and see it. His fist was clenching more as I folded my arms on the table.

  “Leila,” his voice cracked, which amused me. His fist sprawled out into a splay of fingers before curling inward again. “That dress is…”

  “Too much?” I glanced down at the display.

  “Beautiful.” he spouted, taking a keen interest in the porcelain dish filled with packets of sweetener. “You look beautiful.” One of his fingertips began drawing small circles in place on the table, almost meditatively. “Though I admit it’s a bit…distracting.”

  “It’s alright…” I assured him, reaching across the table to try and still his hand. “You can stare.”

  With a nervous chuckle he took a final glimpse before shifting a leg, our feet meeting as we gazed at one another. It was amazing how much two people could say with their eyes alone, or a simple touch. The moment was broken by the clinking of glasses against the table, and we placed our orders, the food coming quickly as another question crept up on me—one I hadn’t asked yet, but was dying to.

  “What happened last night?” As I swirled the pasta around my fork, he had just taken a bite of steak. His brow rose as he swept a napkin across his lips.

  “Hmm?”

  “When you just…up and left.”

  As the spaghetti met my tongue, he sucked in a bit of his cheek, gnawing on it. Whatever his reason was for leaving, it bothered him quite a bit.

  “Maddy, talk to me.” Food half chewed, I couldn’t wait to swallow before asking. His expression looked strained as he searched the table for answers.

  “I um…well, shite…” He struggled to disclose his thoughts, his foot tapping unsteadily beside mine. He hunched a bit, shifted in his seat, and then stiffened again. “…it’s…quite embarrassing.”

  “Embarrassing how?”

  “Well you see…” He leaned back, collapsing into a slouch as the faux leather squeaked beneath him. He scrunched up the white cloth like it was some sort of stress ball, but he hadn’t yet taken another bite. “I…had a dilemma.”

  “A dilemma?” I replied, a dash of amusement in my tone.

  “Yes.” He cleared his throat, looking around, then down at his lap and back up without having to say much else. He could tell by the way I opened and closed my mouth in a smirk that I understood.

  “Wait…did you?” I hinted, biting my lip at the thought. “You did, didn’t you?”

  He nodded, though unenthusiastically. My legs, however, crossed.

  “So how is that a bad thing…exactly?”

  “I don’t know, I just…it made me wonder…” The cotton twirled between his fingertips, tightening in a crippled vine before loosening again. “How would I even hold up if we…if we were to…do more.” His face sank in shame, brow wrinkled. Yet here I was fighting the urge to see how much I could get away with before he would blow his top, literally and figuratively.

  “Well, it’s okay, Maddy. Really, I mean, after who knows how many years, I think you did fine. More than fine.” As much as I tried to build him up, he still wasn’t sold.

  “Look, you’ve obviously had sex before…” I mouthed, taking a firmer hold of his hand, his shoulders relaxing. “Was this a concern of yours before, or even after…the accident?”

  “No, not at all…”

  “Well there you go then. After—you know—getting in the groove again you should be fine, right? Though if it were up to me, I’d tell you not to stress either way.” He didn’t look too convinced, and a sudden guilt began to writhe within me. “And sorry if I sound so…thirsty.”

  “Thirsty?”

  “You know…eager to…get with you. I feel like I’m bringing it up so much but…I mean, I’m not complaining, not really…it’s just different; wanting someone like this.” His expression was blank, and so damned impossible to read. I’d managed to spin so much spaghetti around the fork that I just kind of stared at it, unsure what to do with it. “I’m just gonna shut up if that’s alright.”

  But instead of unraveling it, I picked up the overburdened utensil and began chomping away at the mass of noodles. I was fighting the waterfalls that tried to creep up and burst into unreasonable bout of tears. At this point, as much as I wanted to, I didn’t really care what he thought. So I saw no harm in being momentarily brash.

  Eyes watering, and mouth full of carbs, I brought myself to look at him. I felt his eyes on me, but I wondered what kind of judgement they carried. As always, they carried none. If anything they seemed sad for me. I wondered if I was meant to get used to these mini breakdowns I was having. Yet why would he want to be with someone as emotionally unstable as I was right now?

  The gentlest pat to my cheek shook me from my woes. I watched as Maddy leaned across the table to swipe the mess of tomato sauce and wet away sweetly and cautiously. I swallowed what food I could, his napkin catching any drippings from the stray pieces that fell. In some ways I wished he would stop with these kind gestures. They made me adore him more but only because I worried I would lose them.

  “You want to get out of here?” he muttered, folding the napkin neatly. I managed a nod, slugging a few gulps of watered-down tea before snaking into my coat. Though he tried to pay, Cheyenne wouldn’t let him. It was “the least she could do”, she said. Besides, I didn’t want him to get into a habit of covering for me, if there would even be another date.

  On the way back to the car, we walked close together, but didn’t touch. I was losing hope that we would at all until we arrived back at the lot, his head hanging low as he turned to me.

  “Leila…there’s something I need to say….that I need to tell you…”

  “What is it?”

  With a hand to his cheek, my thumb trailed along the many furrows. His foot shuffled, muscles tense, and his arms folded across his chest before falling to his sides.

  “See…I know you’re confused by me. That I’m hard to read, and to understand; but the truth is I don’t know how to be around someone anymore…not like this, not really.” Reaching for my hands, he cradled them, as if the last thing he wanted to do was let go.

  “If you can’t tell, I’m not doing too hot myself,” I joked through a sniffle, his glove gliding along my cheek as I brushed against it.

  “It’s just that it’s been so long, and aside from worry, you know, etiquette is always changing. I never know what’s too much, or too little. Inside, I feel many things.” His head swayed, his grip growing firmer. “I want…so many things…” His feet slid closer until we were but a breath away from each other’s faces.

  “But then I worry I’ll go too far, or not far enough. It’s like I’m still stuck in the nineteenth century, and…” As he sighed, my hands ached beneath his grasp, tightening. He took notice, loosening his hold as his eyes closed. “I don’t want you to think I don’t care for you because…I do. I do very much.”

  Though he couldn’t look at me when he said it, I could tell he meant it. The was something about how he carried those words, like they were the most delicate things in the world. To hear his voice, his feelings for me, made my heart soar. All this time I had hoped, but was never really reassured until now.

  “I like you too, but you already knew that.” I laughed, a bit embarrassed to admit it, no matter how t
rue.

  “You’ve made it very clear, yes.”

  The air between us grew foggy with laughter. His eyes ignited with the faintest yellow radiance, glowing, as his smile quickly faded. All the while we slowly migrated into each other’s embrace. Even through our clothes, the feeling of our bodies melding together made my pulse begin to race.

  “You said you feel things…and want things. Are you worried they’re things that my etiquette…” a hard swallow stopped me; he began choking on desire as I tugged at his collar. “…may not allow?”

  “Yes.” His voice was smooth, but shuddering, our gazes unwavering.

  “Show me.” Warmth flooded my chest, captivating me, my eager heart anticipating the things that could happen—and the things I wished would.

  “W-what?” His arms traveled down my own, hands gripping intermittently as the heat between us continued to build. He paused at my waist. My entire body flushed with a fever, everything growing more sensitive the longer we lingered, especially between my thighs.

  “Imagine…for a moment…” My fingers spread like a web over his chest, gluing to him like a magnet as my nails dug innocently into the uneven skin beneath. “That etiquette didn’t exist….And you could do anything your heart desired with me. To me.”

  The dark didn’t hide his gulp, my elbows stinging through his squeeze as my fingertips began their descent down his hard body. I was well on my way to getting wet, my pussy swelling so badly it was beginning to itch. I watched all of the almost-indiscernible emotions and tensions that tore at him, sneaking across every muscle in his face and flickering in his eyes.

  Mouth opening slowly, he whispered, “But Leila…” Casting his eyes all around, he scouted, leaning in close with his lips to my ear. Shivers radiated throughout me as the words began to tickle the lobe. “That would be illegal.”

  In eagerness, I couldn’t hide my gasp. Pulling away from him, I sucked on my lower lip before letting it slip in a slow release, my coat coming open button by button. It was as if the cold had frozen him, but his eyes were still hungry, devouring sight unflinching.

  I reached down, several feet away from him now, fingers tucked around the bottom of my dress as it slithered up my thighs, revealing the garters that made his knees buckle. His hands fidgeted anxiously as they hung beside him, to which I responded in as sultry a tone as I could. “I meant anything.”

  With a sharp exhale, the gap between us slammed closed. I’d all but blinked and there he was, pressing himself against me through a deep kiss. A hand engulfed my head, the other on my waist, and I felt myself lift from the ground as his tongue swirled around mine.

  Lustful sounds cut through the night air, tainting the silence. Our skin drowned in a fire, mouths chilled from the wet, and it only drove us more wild. For the first time, he reached down behind me, squeezing my ass as our embrace picked up momentum. But just when I thought this train was about to go full throttle, it derailed; my feet meeting the ground again, much to my dismay, he took hold of my hand.

  “Come,” he urged, head gesturing toward his car as battered morals resounded in his tone, the passenger door swinging open. But as I climbed in, I grasped at his pant leg, my deviousness overflowing as I forced him to meet my eyes.

  “I plan to…”

  His chest sank through a quivering exhale, door slamming as he ran to the driver’s side. As soon as the engine turned over, he careened it into reverse. Tires peeled against the pavement as the car slid into first gear, soon carrying us at breakneck speed back home.

  8

  Five minutes.

  I lived five minutes away, yet it felt like an eternity. I admit leaning over to tear open his jacket and get touchy may have had something to do with it, but I had grown impatient, consumed by desire. My hand, like the bow of a ship, rose and fell along the crashing waves of heaving muscle that lay beneath his shirt, the wheel slipping from his grasp.

  We almost veered off the road a few times, worse when I tried to run my hand up his thigh, so I stuck with grazing his torso. I wanted all of him so badly—dare I say I needed it. No matter how selfish it made me feel, everything about him drove me wild—from the deep, mellow tone of his voice to those fiery eyes, or his strong broad stature. But particularly the care in his eyes, his actions, and the sweet gestures that shaped him as a man, and of course the subtle musky amber notes that pervaded from his clothes, teasing my senses.

  By the time we arrived, the top of his shirt hung open from our sharing another heated exchange before we scrambled out of the car. He was out first, but I sprinted to the door, losing my heels before I got to the mat. The keys rattled in my grasp, tremors robbing my ability to steady my hands. You’d think I had never had sex before, gauging from my shot nerves.

  My hands only settled once a sizeable pair of leather ones came into view, gliding down my arms and causing a wall of warmth to invade the once cold space behind me. He plucked the key from the mess, guiding my hand to the lock as the knob turned. The tension was so strong that the air around us seemed electrified with it.

  In a lust-fueled waltz, our feet shuffled across the floor to the living room, bumping into furniture, hitting door frames, and tripping over my jacket as it fell to the wood. Everything sped up, our kisses constantly broken by fitful attempts at undressing. He cradled my back, catching me each time I’d falter and watching my hands as I fought to slide his coat off. Quickly, he tugged at the sleeves, tossing it onto the couch followed by his hat.

  “I need you,” I whined, catching a glimpse of his growing erection, the outline of which waited eagerly in the leg of his pants. I repeated myself through messy kisses before rushing to unbutton my dress. Our faces were wet with desire, and his mouth hung open as my chest broke free from the cotton.

  An unusual feeling prickled at the back of my neck, and his face immediately twisted, mouth falling wider as if to warn me. I was amused by the worried look on his face… until a searing pain shot through me.

  The burn was excruciating, like lava radiating up my back and into my skull. The pain was so fierce that my head felt like it was about to explode. My hands, like a vise around my thigh, tried to squeeze the sting away as the room suddenly filled with an agonizing screech. Maddy rushed toward me while cries of distress tore at my chest. I watched as he ripped off his gloves and they fell to the floor.

  Foolishly, I had backed into the wood stove, still scorching with a dying fire, and as I lifted my skirt, the iron had burned my hose. I was too caught up in a fever to notice it when I first hit, but then the scent of fire-kissed flesh turned my stomach. Even through the anguish, I was more concerned with Maddy’s contorted face—twisted like some sort of demonic creature—and the blue glow that sprang to life beside me.

  “Maddy, y-your fa—your hands!”

  It looked like his hands had set ablaze, consumed with a glaring blue fire, but he was unfazed by it. The worried expression on his face was lit by the phenomena. As I reached to grab them in worry, I found that they were cool and prickly. He knelt in front of me, pulling me away from the stove so he could lift the charred sheer as it peeled from the flesh.

  “Ah! Tss…” I winced as I backed against the arm of the couch with a foot propped on his knee. With my leg raised, he slid his hands lightly up the length of my thigh, surrounding it with long fingers. Quickly and neatly, azure wisps of flame spread out, dancing all along the skin, searching. It riddled my thigh with bumps as a feather-like fire swirled around the long, still-forming blister, glowing brighter and brighter.

  My cheeks, drenched with tears, burned from the subsiding rush of pain. Soon the screaming wound turned to nothing more than a light sting, and then to an ache, until all that was left behind, as the flames receded, was nothing more than a light pink section of skin. Now only his warm, rugged hands lay there, fingers still wrapped around me where impressions of his fingertips dug into the soft paleness.

  Through a pained exhale, the breath he’d held escaped, sounding as if he’
d run a mile. He peered up at me, chest heavy and irises fading to black and then grey as his swollen brow and sharpened teeth began to withdraw. He studied my reaction, eyes gleaming with anguish, fearful of what I thought as I stared down at him.

  But my shoulders loosened, tension melting. I knew he searched for dread, but I harbored none. I had only been worried—even as he transformed into a sort of beast—for his wellbeing. As I smiled, a fresh tear sped down my face. His eyes brimmed with a sudden solace.

  “Whatever you are, Maddy…” My hand nestled against his sinewy cheek, and I watched as his eyes glazed over. His hand met mine. “You’re beautiful.”

  He smiled at that, shaking his head. “You…”

  “Me?”

  He laughed warmly, eyes on me. “I’m the monster, and here I am asking myself if you’re the one that’s real.”

  “No.” I grabbed his head, forcing him to stay locked with my eyes so he could see that I meant it. “You are not a monster.”

  His eyelids clenched in sorrow and then relief. What was once a moment of tension quickly turned back to one of yearning as he laid his sights beneath my skirt. A short, throaty groan escaped him through a gulp as he fought to peel his eyes away from something. He began to massage my thighs, almost pensively.

  “Um, Leila…”

  “Y-yes?” I croaked, unsure of what he was staring so intently at. I had started to worry if my shave job had been subpar.

  “Mmm…” he hummed, looking back up at me. “You’re um…” he began gulping again, “you’re…very wet.”

  “Oh…” my brows peaked, my face itching as I blushed.

  “It’s…distracting.” A faint sort of rumble billowed in his chest.

  “I seem to have that effect on you, hmm? But don’t change the subj—oh…God.”

  I watched as his mouth latched on to the rim of the stocking, tongue curling around the clasp and then snapping the garter. He lifted the sheer fabric with his teeth before running his tongue beneath it, tracing the skin with a series of swirls. His tongue was hot and velvety.