Enchanted: A Fae Fantasy Romance (Fae Magic Book 3) Read online

  Skimming his fingers along her trail of freckles he pushed the gown down over her shoulders, and exposed her small, high breasts. He leaned back to admire them. “Lovely.”

  She flushed. “I don’t have as much as...” Her words trailed off and she frowned, as if she’d lost track of her thought.

  He kissed her nipples, loving the way they peaked at his slightest touch. “You’re perfect.” He molded his hand around her breast. “They’re full and ripe, and just the size to fill my hand.”

  “Mmm, yes.” Her voice slurred with arousal, her eyelids dropped, framing her amazing eyes in a half-open sensuality. She pressed the tight nipple into his palm, and electricity pulsed through his nerves.

  He bent and sucked, wrapping his hands around her narrow waist to keep her exactly where he wanted her. She braced against the back of the couch, arching for his pleasure. And hers.

  The moment shifted and suddenly he couldn’t wait. He tore the dress, the tiny buttons in the back popped, spraying across the room. She gasped, followed fast by a purr of pleasure. He loved the sound. Everything about her was perfect. The glow to her skin. The tilt of her face. The lush fullness of her mouth. “Perfection,” he whispered.

  He stripped off the rest of his clothes and settled back on the sofa. Pulling her up to straddle him he fed from her mouth. She moaned and rocked her hips into his, grinding her wet softness against the length of his cock, and taking him to the brink.

  Chapter Nine

  Straddling Bosco, her center pressed against the solidity of his erection, Cassie felt powerful and strong for the first time in—she had no idea how long. She’d had too much wine, sure, but she knew what she was doing—she was about to have sex with this beautiful man. And it wasn’t just to see if they could stimulate her memories. No, she was doing this because she wanted to. Because, since the first time she’d seen him standing bare-assed naked by the pond she’d known, this was where she wanted to be—naked and seducing him.

  She slid along Bosco’s cock, loving the feel of her clit pressed between them. He was bold and a risk-taker, and she longed to be that way. Longed to be more than just the good little princess who did what was expected of her. She knew there was more to life, and this was her first step to finding out what she’d missed. She’d spent three months with no idea of what missteps she was making until she made them—afraid to make mistakes. This might be a mistake, but she was taking action.

  His fingers dug into her waist. “Slow down.” He laughed. “Let’s not end this too soon.”

  Her lips curved up. “I hope you’ll be inside when that happens.” His dark eyes flashed hot, and she got serious. “Kiss me again,” she whispered, leaning in.

  Her lips touched his and he groaned, his mouth opening and letting her in. His kiss was amazing, his tongue dipping and delving with just the right pressure, sending need shivering along her skin and down into her core.

  The space between them got slipperier and she wiggled against him, using her thighs to rock back and forth. “Bosco...I want you to touch me.”

  “Where?” His hands stroked along her back, down the curve of her hips. “Tell me what you want, Cassie.”

  She arched harder into him. “Everywhere.” She wanted more. She wanted it all. She wanted all of him.

  “Your wish is my command.” He took one of her already taut nipples in his mouth and it tingled, tightening even more at the moist feel of his tongue. He sucked, his mouth easy at first, then harder. Arousal poured through her and she dug her nails into his shoulders, encouraging mews coming unbidden from her throat.

  If she couldn’t remember the past, maybe she could forget the present—and his all encompassing presence ensured that she could. He was everywhere, his hands moving up and down over her skin, along her back and hips, between the backs of her thighs. His mouth worked her nipple until she lost all coherent thought.

  She moved her sex harder against him, the pressure inside her building and building. She threw her head back. Sounds she couldn’t remember ever making before poured out of her mouth and she rocked right into her climax.

  And it wasn’t enough. She ached to feel him inside her. She wanted to forget the princess, forget her struggles with her magic, forget she’d lost everything she couldn’t remember. “Fill me,” she said.

  “Not yet, Princess. We have a long way to go.” His hand pushed between them and found its way between her thighs, one finger pressing on her clit. She jumped and he grinned. “You did say everywhere, and that covers a lot of territory.” His mouth closed on her other nipple, and he gently bit down.

  It was too much. She came close to coming again, the width his cock settled between the lips of her sex and yet not inside. She struggled to move off of his lap, pushed by her frustration. “Please, I need you.” She reached between them and took him in her hand raising her hips and guiding him to her center.

  The corners of his mouth turned up in a wicked grin. “I’m not sure we’ve pleasured you enough. There are so many more things I want to do to you.”

  She was more than ready. She ached for him to fill her. “Please?” He loosened his grip. She sagged to the side and he lay her down on the couch, his mouth taking small sucking bites into her waist and down her belly.

  He nibbled his way between her thighs, using his hands to spread her wide.

  “No.” She tugged at his hair. “I want your cock inside.”

  But he shook his head. “There’s two of us here, Princess, and you’re not the one in control.”

  He skimmed his tongue down her folds, stroking the wet slick surface. Pleasure such as she had no memory of feeling before blossomed inside her. He sucked her clit into his mouth and she arched her hips, her fingers digging into the couch cushions beneath her. “Bosco.” His name ground out of her throat.

  His mouth worked magic on her clit sucking it in and out. The world shrank to just the two of them. She forgot about her responsibilities, her shortcomings, and faux pas. She forgot she had lost most of her magic and all of her previous life. She forgot to worry. Instead, everything in her narrowed down to him, his hands, and his mouth.

  And the pleasure between them.

  “Bosco—I need—” She couldn’t get it out. Her brain refused to form the words. But he knew.

  He worked a finger inside and she bucked off the couch. Only his strong hands keeping her centered—right where he wanted her. And he never stopped.

  “More,” she gasped. A second finger pushed inside her and she welcomed the pressure. He moved it in and out, giving her what she needed, what she coveted. But it wasn’t enough. “Please—”

  He pulled his fingers out and came over her, his mouth and lips shiny. “I won’t last long,” he said.

  “I don’t care.” She pulled him into her and kissed him, tasting herself on his tongue. “I want you.”

  With one swift movement he entered her. He filled her, moving in and out, supporting himself so he didn’t crush her. She came, inarticulate sounds working their way out of her mouth. Sounds she wasn’t even sure she made or what they meant, except that she lost herself in the swirl of pleasure as he rocketed to his own orgasm, and took her with him into another.

  He collapsed on top of her and she struggled for breath. “You’re squishing me.”

  “I need a minute.” He took more of his own weight and she inhaled. He nuzzled her face. “That was amazing. You are truly amazing.” His face dropped to the side of hers and he blew out a breath before lifting off of her and leaving the room. He came back with a washcloth and she cleaned up and curled on her side. She was exhausted, every limb was heavy with sleep and repletion.

  She’d done it. She’d broken with the good little princess she’d been struggling to be and she’d embraced being someone new. She didn’t have any idea of who she’d been before, but striking out on her own. Making her own decisions about who she slept with, felt good. For the first time in months she felt sleepy before bed, not worried about all the mis
takes Gertrude said she made. Not worried about failing her aunt and the war effort. Not worried about not remembering.

  He climbed over her and settled in the space between the back of the couch and her body, wrapping his arms around her tight. Even though the edge of the couch was an inch away she knew she could fall asleep and never fall. She didn’t know why she trusted him this way, but she did. There was a new bond between them, one she couldn’t explain, but it tied them together like a boat moored to the shore.

  “Goodnight, Princess.” His words were muffled and soft and tickled the back of her neck.

  “Goodnight, Bosco.” She smiled, and drifted into sleep. His front pressed to her back. His arms keeping her safe and secure.

  BOSCO HELD CASSIE IN his arms, his face pressed into her neck, breathing in the soft sweet smell of her skin. She leaned into him and sighed, settling into sleep. His lips curved up in a smile. He was in. In the castle, in her room, and in her bed. Now all he had to do was figure out why the hell the queen and Haddon had put her up as a false princess and how he could use her to find his quarry. He let the glamour flow back over his aura, hiding his true self.

  But the couch wasn’t comfortable for two and he couldn’t settle down. He used some power to lower the lights, leaving a small night-light burning in the corner. It reflected off of something shiny in the puddle of her gown. Bosco extracted himself from the sleeping woman, laying her gently down on the couch. She stretched out and he covered her with a blanket. Crossing the dark room quietly, he picked up the glass ball from the folds of her dress.

  This was the same kind of toy he’d had as a boy. You could shrink it down and play marbles, or you could make it big and kick it around for team games. For a moment he flashed back to his youth, before he’d ever seen the inside of one of the courts. Before he’d been sent to the White Queen. When he’d run in the fields and been a simple farmer’s son. He’d had a ball like this. Inside had been stories of Underhill, of the wars between the Tuathan and the Fir Bolg. Tales of children lost in the mists and eaten by trolls. He particularly remembered one about a little boy and girl who’d been carried off and eaten by human witches that had kept him up nights. Of course now he knew that no elvatian child was weak enough to be eaten by a human, witch or not, but as a boy it had scared the pants off of him.

  He rolled the ball between his fingers, the tales it told so small they were merely swirls of color moving under the glass. Why would a grown woman carry around such a keepsake? What was so special about this ball?

  The sphere rested on the center of his palm. He willed it larger until he could see into the story clearly. And realized this was not the child’s toy of his youth. Inside, he saw what could only be scenes from Cassie’s dreams. A tall blonde woman laughing with a tiny brunette, their hair blowing in the winds of a wide open plain of dusty grass. Dark clouds thundered in the distance, rolling in fast, and they ran from the rain, heading for a small house. Then it swirled and all the images disappeared into the mists.

  Why was Cassie dreaming of humans running in the rain? Could the false princess be connected somehow to the psychic he was here to find?

  Chapter Ten

  Cassie woke alone in her bed, vivid dreams of the strange human women still so alive and present that she turned and looked for them, their names bursting like flavors on her tongue.

  She tried to say the blonde’s name. Tried to call out to the woman who laughed and turned away, but now she was awake and the name refused to come. But she remembered the dream.

  She remembered!

  She leapt out of bed. The tangle of blankets and sheets came with her and wrapped around her feet, tripping her and slowing her down. “Bosco!” she called, grabbing her robe and belting it around her nudity.

  But he wasn’t there. He must have carried her to the bedroom and tucked her in before leaving. She looked around the bedroom for him one more time, the loneliness of her empty apartment more apparent than ever before. She went to the living room, but it was just as empty. All the dishes and plates were gone, but someone had left a single pink rose floating in a clear bowl of water on the coffee table. Bosco. No one else would have done that. She smiled. Next to the rose lay her ball.

  She hadn’t even noticed it was gone. Hadn’t missed its comforting presence when she’d spent the night curled into Bosco’s side.

  She picked it up, searching for nicks or scratches. It was fine, the images of places and people blurring together like always. For a moment, she thought she saw the curve of the brunette’s cheek, but then it was gone. She stared into the glass, willing the face to appear. She summoned her Gift. The images wavered and firmed up. The brunette’s smiling face appeared, but it didn’t stay. What did stay was the headache she got from staring and trying again and again until finally she gave up and slipped it in the pocket of her robe.

  She’d dreamed she was a human witch, that much she could remember, and she and the other women were fleeing from the queen. Why would she dream about people she didn’t know and likely had never met? What did it mean?

  There was a knock on the door. “My lady? Are you ready for your appointment?” Gertrude’s voice came through as she wiggled the locked knob. “The door’s locked.” Her tone slid up in sly question. “Are you alone? Is your lover in there with you?”

  Her appointment. She looked frantically for the clock. Damn it. It was after one o’clock.

  “Tell them I’ll be right there.” She was late again for her standing appointment with Lord Haddon, and sometimes her aunt, to try to fix her broken Gift and help fight the war. She ignored Gertrude’s continued pounding and raced for the shower, wondering why in hell her maid hadn’t woken her up and wishing she could magic herself clean. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t even magic hot water for herself and had to depend on the old castle plumbing like the lowest of servants.

  She’d hoped, no she’d almost believed, that when she’d touched Bosco last night there’d been some change to her memory. And maybe, just maybe, his touch would kick-start her Gift into what it should be. Powerful. Amazing. Something worthy of royalty.

  But no. She was late, and wet, and braiding her own hair when she finally let Gertrude in.

  “Do you want help, My lady?” The upraised eyebrow and the near sneer let her know Gertrude thought her nothing but a stupid girl who didn’t deserve her position.

  “No, thanks, I’m almost done.” She fastened off the end of the braid and slipped on her shoes.

  “Is that what you’re wearing? Lord Haddon hates when you don’t dress appropriately.”

  Cassie glanced down at her jeans and white shirt. “Well, Lord Haddon will just have to screw himself.” She’d had enough. Enough with Gertrude nagging her all the time. Enough with Haddon trying to push her into being someone she had no clue how to be. “If I have to work this afternoon, I might as well be comfortable. Goddess knows nothing else helps.”

  She ignored the other woman’s shocked gasp and took her time collecting her socks and boots. A sense of elation had her almost smiling as she pulled them on. She was practically floating with her good mood, and it was all due to last night’s encounter with Bosco. He’d taken her to new heights yes, but more than that, she’d made her own decision—and it had been an excellent one.

  She caught up to Gertrude waiting impatiently at the door, pushed past her and preceded the lady-in-waiting out into the hallway. Then she waited for Gertrude to exit and carefully closed and locked the door behind them. There was no way she was leaving the bitch here to search for clues as to what had happened last night. If Haddon wanted to know, he’d have to ask Cassie herself.

  And she wouldn’t tell him. She repressed a giggle. Or maybe she would.

  The thought lasted her all the way to the grand staircase, but by the time she’d made her way down the three flights to the main floor she was thinking about her dream and the strange women who felt so familiar. Almost like she should know them. Was the dream her subconscious�
��s way of slowly giving her memories back? Did she really know those human women? Had they been servants in her old life? Was dreaming of a life so totally removed from being a princess the Goddess’s way to have her start remembering without pain?

  Except it was painful. The women had looked on her with love and she hurt from not having them close. Why would she want to be involved with humans? What was wrong with her?

  The queen hated them keeping only a few humans as pets or servants, or for entertainment. They were short-lived and most lacked magic. Some had fae blood and exhibited magical talents and longer lives. Like the witch who had married Prince Kian. What was her name? She was human.

  One of the soldiers standing guard pushed open the double doors and let her into the large open sitting room they used for their sessions. It had a lovely view of the west rose gardens and she could see some of the guests outside taking advantage of the warm day. Clouds of flower fairies clustered around the late summer roses and a pair of tigers rolled in the center herb garden, pointedly ignoring the flower fairies as if they weren’t even thinking of gobbling them up.

  “You’re late.” Haddon looked her up and down from the top of her wet, hastily braided hair to the tips of her dark brown boots. His lip curled. That look said it all, and he knew it. He didn’t yell or fuss or even say another word, just pointed at the chair where, for months, she’d been struggling to get her Gift back and see her cousin’s plans. And, if she were lucky, her memories.

  She sighed and obediently went to sit in one of the deep, leather wing-backs near the fireplace, but inside all she wanted to do was find Bosco and see if what she suspected was true—that having sex with him had changed something within her. She stared out one of the sets of double French doors. Outside the day looked warm and sunny and some of the guests were up and enjoying the grounds.