WingsOfDesire-AriannaSkye (33 page)

“Mayhap I am real,
mo cridhe
.” She reached down to the thatch of hair between her legs, searching for her clit. Her tongue darted out to lick along her lips—slowly and seductively.

Rhiannon threw back her head and moved her fingers back and forth in time with her tongue,

moans and murmurs filling his tent.

Seeing her standing there stroking herself was too much. He needed her now. He pulled himself off his pallet and tore at the laces of his breeches. When they were loose enough, he hauled them to the ground.

“I missed you so much, my sweet.” He stood before his princess, his erection jutting out proudly. Cerne took slow, purposeful strides toward her. He could no longer deny it, no matter how hard he tried. He loved Rhiannon, his brazen White Faerie princess. With a lazy smile, he stroked his length in time with the fingers on her clit. With eyes full of lust and desire, she spread her nether lips wide, slipping two fingers inside. Good gracious! He was ready to spill right there.

“Are you ready for this, my love?” Her hips undulated as one hand worked her clit and the other her pussy. She threw her head back, loud gasps and moans escaping her lips.

Oh Gods!
Didn’t she know? He was more than ready. His cock throbbed in his hand and a low growl tumbled from deep inside his throat. “If I wait any longer, I’m going to burst.”

“What a waste that would be,
mo cridhe
.” She continued to work her pussy and clit with powerful, sweeping strokes. It impressed him that she could control her release. The only release he wanted her to have was when he was deep inside her, pounding his thickness in and out of her inviting warmth.

“Lay back down on the bed,
mo cridhe.
” She smiled, brushing a hand through her glorious red curls.

Eager to please his princess, Cerne nodded. He climbed back onto the pallet and laid back, completely at her mercy. “I’m yours for the taking,
leannan.
”

“Mmm,” Rhiannon mewed, her fingertip tracing against her lips. “I like that idea.” She moved with slow, teasing strides, creeping ever so alluringly toward the makeshift bed.

She ran her fingers up and down her body, stopping to pinch and tweak her nipples. The wetness at the juncture of her thighs glistened in the pale glow of the lantern illuminating the tent.

She stood only a few paces from his pallet and continued her seductive show. Rhiannon’s fingertips traced along her breasts, down her stomach and back to her wet, swollen sex. The scent of lavender and vanilla mixed with her arousal lingered in the air. He breathed in, wanting to savor the aroma for as long as possible. It seemed so real—smelled so real. Never had he dreamed in such vivid detail.

“Gods, I love your scent, Rhiannon.” He turned his head to her as his lips curved into an equally seductive smile. “
Trobhad, mo cridhe
. Take me inside you.” He thrust his hips up, his erection shuddering as if it needed her more than he did.

Rhiannon nodded, raked her fingers through her luxurious curls and stepped forward until she hovered over his bed.
By the Gods.
Was she floating? Caught between dreams and reality, he reached up to stroke a lock of hair. As his hand neared the wavy tendril, she vanished. All he grasped was empty air.

Frustration hit him like a bolt of Dark Faerie lightning. He doubted that she would actually call out to him. He'd made it clear as day back in the palace he would not join her on Earth. She was angry at him. He knew it, even though she’d claimed not to be. Then again, he would've felt the same had he been in her shoes.

He let out a low grumble, balled his hand into a tight fist and pummeled his pallet. Angry, he willed himself back to a dreamless sleep.

~*~*~

Heaving a deep sigh, Rhiannon opened her eyes. She shook her head in remorse and turned to face Aine. The jagged scar down the Dark Faerie’s cheek twitched while she eyed the dragon and its rider swooping down to land and then soar back up into the looming clouds. Soon they would find their prey. Without Cerne, could she fight?

“Were you able to merge your minds?” Aine grabbed a broken tree limb, her fingers gripping tightly against the rough, knotted bark. She scratched the branch into the brittle ground, stabbing it into the earth's parched cracks. Arizona had nothing on this infertile wasteland. How these Dark Faeries survived was a marvel unto itself.

Rhiannon shook her head. She wished she had her own stick to beat into the ground. “I doubt I would be able to connect to Cerne, even if he was close by.” She sighed, taking a long drawn out breath.

“Aren't you two to be mated? I know how seriously you White Faeries take the mating ritual.” Her dark eyes gleamed, despite the clouds blotting out the sun—as if she were daydreaming.

Rhiannon chuckled. “Leave it to me to screw it all up. I told him I wanted to go back to

Earth.”

Taking in Aine's thoughtful glance, Rhiannon continued. “Then again, coming from here, Earth would be a blessing. But the areas that haven't been tainted by your sister can only be described as what humans call—heaven.”

“I’ve always dreamt of one day living in such beauty, but my sister would’ve called me weak, so I left it as that—just a dream.”

Yep, Korrigan really had done a number on this gal. “You’ll get your chance, Aine. I promise.”

“I have to admit, Your Highness. When I met you in the guise of your friend, I knew in my heart you would make a great leader.” Aine smiled. “I saw your faerie spirit. My sister isn’t half the queen you’re destined to be.”

Well, if that wasn't an ego trip, Rhiannon didn't know what was. “Even though we've only just met, hearing that really means a lot. Thank you.”

“I speak the truth. There’s no need to thank me. I’m below your station anyway.” Aine etched more symbols in the dirt.

Rhiannon perused over Aine’s shoulder, trying to decipher her hieroglyphics. “What is that you’re drawing?”

“A prayer to the Goddess,” Aine replied. She drew what resembled an eye and knelt down before her artwork. She bowed her head in calm silence and traced her finger along the eye, lowering her head to kiss the earth. She lifted her head and stood, wiping flecks of dust and dirt from her bedraggled dress.

If she thought the White Faeries were weird, these Dark Faeries were even weirder. “What were you praying for?” Rhiannon asked. “I’m still trying to learn all these strange customs.”

“A prayer for forgiveness from those I’ve wronged.” Aine took a deep breath and set the branch down underneath her drawing. She stood, rolled the branch underneath the worn toe of her boot, and turned back around to face Rhiannon. Even though Aine tried to mask it, the sorrow radiated from her gaze.

Rhiannon decided if she was going to spend time with Aine, it was best to bond with her.

“Want to talk about it? Sometimes getting stuff off your chest can be better than holding it in.”

“I fell in—was attracted to someone I should not have been.” She brought her hand to her face and traced her knuckles along her lips. “My sister found out and wasn’t thrilled. She sent

him to the Outer Realm to punish him—and me.”

Outer Realm? That sounded like some Twilight Zone or Star Trek sort of shit. “What’s that?”

“They haven’t told you about the Outer Realm?”

Rhiannon shrugged. “My lessons were kind of cut short when your sister decided she needed to string me up like a decoration on her dungeon wall.”

“Oh.” Aine fisted her hands and ran the fingertips against her palms. “The Outer Realm is where the vilest criminals of the kingdoms are sent to spend the rest of eternity.” Wow! So even faeries had penal colonies? That was so eighteenth-century. Then again, these faeries did seem to have some ancient customs. “They call it prison where I used to live.”

“Only the most wretched of beasts are sent there, and Sionnach wasn’t wretched.” Aine bit her lip and continued to rub her palms.

Rhiannon’s ears perked up. Not only had Aine seen Sionnach, she’d known him. And from the sound of it, she had feelings for him too. Not surprising, if he looked anything like Cerne.

She gathered from Cerne’s descriptions that he was a total ladies’ man. A natural charmer, or so Cerne had said. With all his silent reserve, Cerne had a bit of charmer in him too.

“Sionnach?” Rhiannon asked, treading very carefully. “What an unusual name for a Dark Faerie.”

“He wasn’t a Dark Faerie. He was a White Faerie—one of Korrigan’s pleasure-slaves. I made the mistake of looking at him with a curiosity my sister did not appreciate. To punish me she made me watch–” She gulped and told Rhiannon the rest of the story, her face grim and lips stony, as if she were just a statue with no emotion. “She whipped him and sent him away.”

“So, Sionnach is still alive?” A deep warmth filled Rhiannon’s heart, giving her a new sense of hope. Her eyes brightened and a smile crept to her face. She couldn’t wait to tell Cerne the good news.

“How come you have an interest in Sionnach?” Aine’s eyes narrowed, a look akin to jealousy. “Aren’t you to be mated to your consort?”
Mated?
That sounded so—
animalistic
. “Yes, Cerne and I are joining.” Rhiannon scratched her chin and looked around. It was probably best to be honest with the faerie. There was no doubting the obvious. This woman had feelings for Cerne’s brother. “I don’t know quite how to say this, but I know I can trust you.” She locked eyes with Aine. “Sionnach is Cerne’s—my

consort-to-be’s—brother. If he’s alive, we need to find him.” Aine’s eyes widened in apparent shock. She threw a hand up to her face and sucked in a loud gasp. “What?”

“Sionnach is Cerne’s brother.” Rhiannon remained cheerful despite the fear that clouded Aine’s eyes.

“Oh, my deities,” she breathed, a fresh flow of tears streaming down her face. “What in Fey have I done?” Aine’s knees buckled beneath her and she slumped to the ground. Rhiannon dove to catch Aine, but ended up tripping on her boot. Aine’s head hit the hard ground with a deafening crack.

Rhiannon groaned. She was going to get lots of healing practice with this chick. She clasped her hands together then laid them on Aine’s head, just to be safe, even though she felt no bumps.

Several minutes later, Aine’s lids fluttered open. She moaned softly and rubbed her eyes as she struggled against Rhiannon to sit up.

“Don’t move, Aine.” Rhiannon gripped the other woman’s shoulders with all her might.

“You might have a concussion.” At Aine’s blank stare, she sighed. “A head injury?”

“I feel fine. You were laying your hands on me anyway. I can still feel your warmth.” Aine sighed. “I don’t know why you’re bothering. Your people won’t accept me—especially when they’ve found out what I’ve done.”

“What did you do?”

Aine’s voice cracked. “I-I sent a member of the White Faerie royal family to the Outer Realm.”

“You saved my life! They will love you.” Rhiannon brushed a sable curl from Aine’s face.

“I sent a royal brother to his death!” Aine wrenched herself around and stood on her still wobbly legs.

Rhiannon blinked. “But you just said he was alive.”

“You don’t understand.” Aine’s teeth chattered. “The Outer Realm is a horrible, evil filled place full of the lowest of the low. To be sent there is worse than death.” She broke into fit of sobs, falling back down to the ground with her face in her hands. “There is no escape. You’re doomed to an eternity of suffering, even if you’re sent there for petty reasons.” Rhiannon pulled Aine up to face her and flashed a stern glare. “First off,
you
did not send him away,
Korrigan
did. Secondly, you’re a good person. I can feel it inside you. Don’t let your

sister’s acts pull you down.”

“I just stood there and watched her manhandle him and did nothing to stop it.”

“Your sister would’ve killed you, and you know it.” Rhiannon removed her hands from Aine’s shoulders.

Aine rolled her top lip between her teeth as a tear streaked alongside her scar. “I would rather be dead than see Sionnach waste away in the Outer Realm.” Rhiannon opened her mouth to reply, but stopped abruptly in response to Aine’s loud gasp as she pointed up toward the sky.

A piercing shriek echoed in Rhiannon’s ear. She whipped around to see the dragon and its rider heading toward them at breakneck speed. The dragon’s wings flapped wildly as smoke billowed from its flared nostrils. Rhiannon groaned, taking in the rider. Big, hulky muscle bulged everywhere from his body, in places she didn’t even know muscles existed.
Got steroids?

A loud roar of thunder burst through the air and a streak of fire shot out from the dragon’s nose, hitting a nearby tree. The fiery inferno consumed it in a large burst of flames and smoke.

“Bloody hell,” Rhiannon muttered. “Aine, get down!” She flung herself on top of her new friend as the dragon loomed above. This wasn’t going to be pretty.

With purposeful strides, Cerne pulled himself out of his tent. The odor of burnt nuts and berries wafted through the air, stinging his nostrils. Berry nut mash, Cerne realized. Not his particularly favorite entrée. But when you were miles away from the safety of the castle, in the middle of the woods, you didn’t have much choice.

He scanned the encampment and spotted Maeve standing over the fire pit while Belenus gazed over her shoulder. Not his favorite chef, either. Maeve could cook up magic, but if food was involved, disaster always lingered nearby.

Maeve waved Cerne over toward the fire.

“Good morning, my friend.” Belenus handed Cerne a bowl full of the watery mush.

Cerne, despite his stomach’s disagreement, took the bowl and scooped some of the slushy slop onto his finger. Wincing, he took his finger into his mouth and swallowed. Surprisingly, it wasn’t as bad as he expected. Cerne snatched up a water skin sitting next to him, and took a sip.

He wondered how the Wood folk survived on such a staple.

Maeve’s warm laughter echoed across their encampment. “Surely it isn’t that horrible?” Cerne chuckled. He wouldn’t lie. “It is—better than usual.”

“It’s delicious,
mo cridhe
,” He brought his wooden bowl up to his face and licked it clean.