Luci’s beautiful eyes are looking all around, taking it all in. “It’s lovely.”
I’m beaming now. And very relieved. All my nerves have vanished. Everything is wonderful. Luci likes it.
“And it’s nice and quiet. And orderly. Things I thought you might enjoy.” Heavens help me, I’m babbling now. What on earth has got into me?
Luci gives me a soft smile. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
My heart does a little cartwheel. My actions made Luci smile. I want to do it again and again. He is already the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, but when he smiles, it lights up the world.
I swallow and start leading him to the back of the library. Why am I behaving like this? A night of fantastic sex and then snuggling and now I can’t think about anything else but Luci?
My days have become split into two. The minutes I am with him and the hours we are apart. I need to get a grip. I’ve had good sex before. It doesn’t mean anything. The way he clung to me and writhed and moaned, that was the passion of being ripe, not love.
He gives me shy, adoring looks because he is lonely and I’m the only person he has.
Luci doesn’t love me. And I don’t love him. He is sweet and smart and soft and gorgeous. Far stronger than he knows. A true survivor. He makes me happy beyond words. But I don’t love him. I’m being ridiculous.
I guide Luci around a row of bookshelves. We are at the very back of the library now. The old man reading a newspaper in a comfy chair looks the same as ever. I wonder if he is even real or some sort of illusion?
“Blessed be the tree that blooms,” I say.
“Blessed be,” replies the old man without looking up from his newspaper.
His foot taps three times on the floor, and the bookshelf beside him slides open. Luci gasps and tightens his grip on my hand. I nod at the old man and lead Luci through the secret doorway.
We emerge into a section of the library that is even more impressive than the last.
“This is the Old Blood section,” I explain, probably unnecessarily. Luci is a very smart little thing. “I spent a lot of time here when I was studying magic.”
I force myself to release Luci’s hand so that he is free to explore for himself. He slowly drifts away from me, utterly absorbed in reading the book titles on the shelves. It is an effort not to chase after him.
I shove my hands into my pockets and force myself to stay where I am. I can watch him from afar. There is no need to be touching him all the time.
I adore what he is wearing today. A black suit jacket several sizes larger than is traditional, and a loose fitting black top of some sort of mesh material. He somehow makes it look beautifully androgynous. It’s very modern and chic, and I want to strip it off him and see if he is wearing lingerie underneath it.
Gods. I swallow and snatch my gaze away. It is our honeymoon, perhaps being this insatiably horny is excusable? If not, it is still a million times better than how our marriage started. I’ll take this inappropriateness over cold cruelty any day.
An all too familiar guilt floods my gut. I was such an asshole to Luci. Resenting him for our arranged marriage was a dick move. Part of me was disgusted by Luci’s apparent keenness and lack of backbone, but now I know that any chance to get away from his parents must have seemed wonderful. No wonder he was so desperate to please and to be perfect.
I’m so very glad I don’t remember our wedding night. Or the first time he was ripe. It’s incredibly selfish of me, but from what I can gather, my behavior was unforgivable. And I’d rather not know the details.
Luci, somehow, seems to have forgiven me. How can anyone have such a big heart? It should not be possible, but nevertheless, Luci manages it. He is incredible. I don’t deserve him.
My gaze can’t stay away any longer. If I can’t hold him, I need to at least be looking at him. Except, where is he? My heart pounds dramatically. I race a few steps and find him just around the corner, deeply engrossed in a book.
Sighing in relief, I walk up to him and peer over his shoulder.
“Fey portals? Are you secretly a Revivalist?”
He goes so ramrod straight that he nearly headbutts me. I can practically feel his alarm and terror radiating off of him. Gods, I’m an asshole.
My arms snake around his slender waist, and my mouth nuzzles at his neck. “Sorry for creeping up on you.”
He doesn’t relax. I’m not even sure he is breathing. Oh shit. Does he take things literally?
“I was joking about you being a Revivalist. You are far too smart to think opening the portals and allowing the fey back into our world is a good idea.”
His body softens. He leans into my touch. I grin and kiss his neck. He makes a soft noise. This is more like it. I suck gently on the smooth skin of his neck. He moans and rubs his pert little ass against me. Oh gods, he is just as horny as me.
How on earth am I supposed to resist this? I’m not a saint. It’s impossible.
My hand dips down and cups his delightful bulge. He is hard for me. He gasps and wriggles.
“I’m…I’m not ripe.”
I’m not ripe.
I’ve heard these words from him before, but this time there is no fear in his voice. Only surprise that I might want him.
“Doesn’t. Mean. We. Can’t. Have. Fun.” I punctuate with kisses along his neck. “You are my consort as well as my vessel.”
He sighs and sags against me. I lift the heavy book from his lax fingers and shove it lopsided on the shelf. Then my hand goes right back to squeezing his erection through the cloth of his trousers.
My other hand drifts up to his mouth and covers it.
“I’m going to put a privacy spell over us. But not a silence spell. No one can see us, but they will hear you. So you are going to be a quiet boy for me, aren’t you?”
He nods frantically against my palm and I swear I nearly cum just from his compliant enthusiasm.
