“Sorry,” Liam panted into my neck, “but Kira had been resisting what I knew to be true—that we’re meant to be together.” His grip instantly tightened as I froze where I sat. “She’s skittish, but when you stroke her just right, she goes right off. Powerful little thing.”
Green hair and Saveen—that was horned guy’s name, I remembered it now—snorted at this.
“Powerful? This girl damn near cracked my reservoir with her antics. Reparations need to be discussed,” green hair said.
“Did you indeed?” Liam said, pulling my hair back and tracing his fingers down my neck until I shivered. “Well, aren’t you a clever girl?”
This apparently didn’t require a response. I was thankful, as Liam’s hand slid down to my waistband. I gasped, the sound heard all throughout the court. The pleased laughs that came in response should have been enough to embarrass me to silence, but they weren’t.
“So responsive,” Liam said in a low rumble. I’d heard those words said quite enough about me, but it was hard to protest as his fingers edged lower.
I needed to stop this, something that was very clear. Sticking my tongue down the man’s throat to keep an ex-girlfriend away was one thing, getting a hand job in front of a whole lotta strangers was another. I glanced beyond the assembled people, past the tops of their heads to see that there was a lot of my kind doing much, much more extreme things. But I wasn’t them.
“Stop,” I said, my voice little more than a breathy gulp, my hand wrapping around his wrist. I saw eyes shine and smiles widen in the audience below at my little rebellion, so I turned in his lap, pinning his wrists to his throne. His eyes sparked, but I couldn’t tell if it was from anger or lust. “Not here, not like this,” I said, leaning into him, my words low enough that only we would hear them. Well, us and Johnno, who looked up wearily. “I need more than some sport fuck in front of a bunch of strangers.”
He had things to say about that. I watched his body tense and his mouth drop open, his lungs drawing breath to get the words out, but Marlow’s voice cut through it all.
“The Lady Rhiannon seeks audience.”
“It’s always meant more than sport for me,” Liam said, his eyes boring into mine, but I wasn’t sure if it was for me or her he said the words. His hand wrapped around my neck, and he drew my lips down on his, giving me those tightly restrained brushing kisses until my lips dropped open.
He took advantage, as I think he always would. Any drop in defences was seen as an invitation, but right now, I didn’t mind where he was getting his ideas from, just as long as they continued. His tongue thrust into my mouth, his jaw shifting so he could decrease the tiny sliver of a gap between us. His fingers turned to claws in my hair as he licked and sucked and kissed me until any thoughts I might have about anything were thoroughly scrubbed free. He was Liam. I’d dreamt of doing just this so many times, and by some miracle, he wasn’t being a total dick. He just smiled when he finally relented, his eyes taking in my bruised lips.
When he settled me back across his lap, he looked pleased when I couldn’t look away. The shining motes of light that had been in the air now seemed to congregate around him, creating some kind of halo from that dark blond hair. Something softened inside him once he and he alone held my gaze, his smile widening when I reached for just one more kiss.
“Stay with me,” he whispered. “I’ll give you anything if you stay with me.”
“Always,” I said, unconsciously sealing my fate.
Rhiannon looked beautiful and pissed, but it was hard to tell which had the dominant hand. She stood there, amongst all the pretty people who watched me make a spectacle of myself, looking for all the world like the faerie princess I’d expected to turn into after transition. She was a picture of slender elegance. Her beach blonde hair fell in those kinds of expertly coiffed waves that a stylist would have spent an age with hot rollers and a blow dryer to achieve, but she was fae, so perhaps it was natural. For all her slim body, she wasn’t lacking in curves. More the kind of restrained sexiness fashion preferred, whereas mine were some kind of flashback to the 1950s. She wore a long white dress that was a delicate combination of shirred white cotton and crocheted accents and a motherfucking flower crown, like some sort of precious thing that just stepped away from Coachella.
My gaze flicked sideways when I saw the guys step up around the throne, Johnno getting to his feet, the lot of them forming a wall of really fucking hot man flesh. Damn, this was what I was going to lie next to tonight? This really was too much to bear, and Liam’s roaming hands were starting to seem like not such a bad thing now. Especially if the others joined in.
“Hello, Liam,” Rhiannon said. She was met by a stony silence. “Brought out the big guns, have we? Anyone would think I was some sort of threat.” Like the truly beautiful, her smile, while twisted with anger and frustration, still tugged at you. Those bright blue eyes, that eerily symmetrical face—it just didn’t look right to see any expression other than radiant joy.
“Not a threat,” Liam said, idly drawing circles on my arm. “Hartley is enjoying a period of unity, and I for one wish to celebrate it.”
“Been able to browbeat them into order, have you?” She snorted, an incongruous expression for her. “That won’t last long. You’ll be tearing each other apart within days, and you won’t have me to blame for it this time. Or perhaps you will.” She cocked a hip, holding out a sheaf of papers. “The Rutherglen has paid for my services. I’m to appear in a series of promotional shots with the band for the tour. Your new photographer needs to shoot them, he insisted.”
I straightened in Liam’s arms, but he didn’t let me get far.
“Don’t bite,” Johnno hissed at me. “Don’t react. Don’t give her anything.”
Liam clicked his fingers and pointed at Marlow to take the papers from her.
“It’s all there in the contract. Naked is the new theme, isn’t it? Well, that’s the brief I’ve been given.” She smirked as the contract was delivered to Liam, and he moved the two of us to scan them quickly. “Looks like I’ll be seeing a whole lot more of all of you. I’ll move my stuff into the bus, shall I? Someone will need to break the news to the Concubines, of course.”
“No.”
Everyone’s eyes were on Liam as he said the word with finality.
“If you think—”
“I don’t give a rat’s arse what you have to say. There’s nothing here that says you have to stay with me, just that you be given suitable accommodations.” He threw the papers down the steps, the surrounding fae’s eyes glittering as they watched the scene play out. “Get your shit and stash it on the heir of Rutherglen’s bus, because that’s where you’re staying for the entirety of your ‘contract.’ Kira is our photographer.” She watched him tangle his fingers in my hair. “She’ll let you know when you are required. Apart from that, any move beyond five metres around the bus will be viewed as a breach of contract.”
“What! You can’t be—”
“I’m completely serious. Now get the fuck out of my court.”