Page 44 of Fae's Mate
Seki
Dinner drags.
The others are eating so slowly. It wouldn’t irritate me as much if I wasn’t so desperate to get the High Lord alone. My skin feels too tight, and I am still flushed (and a little bit wet) from what happened in the kitchen earlier. I press my thighs together and squirm in my seat.
It doesn’t help that every time my gaze drifts to my right, he is watching me, his molten copper stare burning into me longingly. I glance away, twirling my spoon in the thick vegetable stew I have barely touched. My stomach already feels like it contains a swarm of butterflies. Adding food to the mix seems like a bad idea.
To my left, Alex signs something quickly to Yasmin, and when she nods, they both stand and head for the gardens.
Finally.
Riley and Amber follow not long after, chuckling their way from the hall. It’s nice to hear Amber laughing. I am so used to hearing her cry.
“I’m guessing you’re waiting for us to leave so you can get him all to yourself,” Alana whispers, nudging me with her elbow.
“Is it that obvious?” I sigh.
“You’ve been squirming in your seat all night, and barely touched your food… you’ve got it bad,” she winks.
“Oh shut up,” I whisper with an embarrassed grin.
“Fine, fine, I’ll leave you to it… have fun!”
I swat her arm as she rises from the table with a giggle, then return to stirring my stew, afraid to look over at the High Lord again until I am sure Alana has left the room.
The air feels thick and hot—far too hot. But it could just be the dress I’m wearing; the apricot coloured one that Alexis had a tantrum about. It’s a little long on me, but I thought the colour looked good against my pale skin.
I hear the door close, and my heart is in my mouth. My pulse ratchets with anticipation. Finally, I pluck up the courage to look at the High Lord, and with a swallow, I turn to face him.
Of course, his eyes are on me, his gaze full of hunger. Without breaking eye contact, he finishes whatever is in his glass, then stands from his seat. Powerful and confident, he strides towards me, halting once he reaches my side and holds out his hand.
“Come with me,” he entreats.
I can only nod, my heart all but leaping from my chest.
When I slide my fingers over his palm, his skin scorching, he takes hold of my hand gently as I rise from my seat. Without a word, he leads me from the dining hall.
We travel down an unfamiliar corridor in silence, the air between us heavy and electric. I barely notice my surroundings. I’m too focused on the golden-brown curls and broad shoulders leading the way.
At the end of the hallway, he pushes open heavy wooden doors and leads me into a spacious room.His room.The furnishings are warm and earthy—just like him—browns, oranges, and greens, accentuated with gold. In the center of the room is an enormous fourposter bed draped in lush russet fabric. Beyond it, double doors open onto a wide balcony overlooking the entire court.
He turns, stepping towards me. His eyes churn with desire as he leans past me, pushing the door closed and locking it. In any other situation, I would be scared, but I am the opposite. I feel safe. Resting his hand on my waist, his other rises and he brushes my cheek with the back of his fingers.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispers, his voice deep and thick.
I take a shallow staggered breath and close the distance between us, pressing my body against his and wrapping my arms around his shoulders, rising onto the balls of my feet, and arching my neck.
His mouth collides with mine, stealing away my breath. Hands gliding around me, holding the small of my back and the base of my neck, he pulls me closer. His body is large and firm against me, as is his erection digs into my tummy. As his kiss devours me, my core turns molten, muscles clench around thin air, and I can’t help the needy moan that escapes my lips.
When he pulls away, leaving me panting, I open my eyes and find him gazing down at me with feral passion. He glances to the bed, then back to me.
“This is what you want?”
“Yes,” I breathe, my lips tingling.
When he nods, something flickers across his face that makes me uneasy. “You don’t want to?”
“I do… it’s just… traditionally, this would be when the bond is accepted.”
