The Abyss (Fae's Captive #7) - Lily Archer Page 0,16

him sends me over the edge, my orgasm racing out of me in violent waves of pleasure. I can’t lick anymore, can’t do anything except feel the bliss he’s giving me with each stroke of his tongue. My body finally unfurls, my muscles weak and my mind a mush. Each aftershock sends a tremor racing through me, every bit of skin oversensitive and tingling.

Gareth lifts my bottom, spins me to face him, then rests me on his chest. His heart is racing just as fast as mine.

“You truly are the naughtiest changeling I’ve ever met.” He flexes his abs, leaning up with me on top of him, and grabs my thighs, spreading them so his half-mast cock rests against my swollen, sensitive flesh.

“No mating,” I mumble.

“No mating.” He sighs and wipes the sweaty strands from my forehead. “I just want to feel the touch of what’s mine.”

I wiggle my hips just a hair, his cock settling perfectly against me. “I like feeling what’s mine, too.”

He bites out a curse in the old language, then runs his wide palms down my back. “Rest now. We have time before the sun is fully up.”

He doesn’t have to tell me twice. My eyes are already closed, the hint of a snore whistling through my nose.

I smile against him. “You lost.”

“Lost?”

“You came first.” I dart my tongue and lick his nearest nipple, and his cock jolts against me.

“If you call that losing, I’m happy to let you win every time.” His laugh is a warm blanket, a soft kiss, a hug from a friend—and I never want to be without it.

9

Gareth

A commotion pulls me from sleep, and Beth wakes right along with me. The sun is up now, bathing the room in light.

“What is that?” Beth stretches, her bare breasts on perfect display.

I lean over and catch one in my mouth.

“Hey!” She grabs a fistful of my hair but doesn’t push me away.

I circle the bud with my tongue.

The commotion comes again, and she squeezes my strands. “Something’s happening.”

I run my teeth along her nipple. “I know. I can scent your desire.”

“Ugh.” She lies back and rolls toward the edge of the bed. “You know what I mean.”

I let her escape. For now.

“We should go see what’s happening. Besides, we need to get moving. The mines await.” She digs around in the gilded dresser near the door and pulls out a white blouse and some sand-colored pants. “These will do.” She holds the pants up to her hips. “They’re kind of thin material and a little big, but thieves can’t be too choosy.” Grabbing some undergarments, she hurries to the bathing room and closes the door.

Once the view of her stunning ass is gone, I slide from bed and pull on some pants as a wail reaches my ears. Foreboding forms a pit in my stomach, and I stride to the door. Flinging it open, I find slaves scattered down the hall, many of them blanched, their eyes wide.

“What?” I hurry past them and thunder down the stairs. At the bottom, I stop.

Two bodies lie on the polished marble floor, blood soaking through their clothes as their lifeless eyes stare at nothing.

Chastain holds Silmaran in a tight embrace as Parnon flexes his fists again and again. The blood on his tunic belongs to the dead.

“Found them.” His voice is low, and one would think he wasn’t bothered, but I see the uncharacteristic wetness in his eyes. “They’d been left for me to find.”

Silmaran sobs. “They were—they were with me. I saw them fighting. They were winning. I-I saw them—”

“Shh.” Chastain strokes her hair, his hard gaze meeting my own.

“They were fine.” Silmaran’s wail rises again as more slaves enter the foyer, fear casting a pall over them.

“Where did you find them?” Chastain asks.

Parnon grunts. “On the south road, just outside the city. Left there like trash. Their guts on the ground, buzzards feasting.” The last words crunch through his teeth as his jaw tightens. “A warning.”

“And a promise.” I approach the bodies and kneel, inspecting their wounds. “Zatran has carved his mark on both of them, and these marks here—” I point. “Are from the same blade Cenet used on me.”

Silmaran turns, her tear-streaked face coloring a deep red. “I will hunt them to the ends of Arin!”

I bow my head and ask the Ancestors to look after these two warriors as they enter the Glowing Lands. “Now we know Zatran and Cenet escaped, and I have no doubt their plans for Cranthum and