Cian rubbed his eyes, yawned, and stretched his big body. He, on the other hand, didn’t appear to be wearing anything. His glorious frame was on full display. “You told me you refused to sleep in the big bed. You told me you needed independence, and the only way you could have that was to live in abject poverty, with not a single comfort to your name.”
“I doubt I put it quite like that,” Meg complained.
She remembered last night, up to a point. There had been dancing and singing. She’d discovered that Flanna was a brownie. Meg had laughed and said that they ate brownies on the human plane. She then spent the better part of an hour explaining that she wouldn’t be coming after Flanna’s grandchildren. Sweets might not be a big part of Fae life, but ale was. It was the ale that did it. It had been slightly sweet and had a hell of a kick. Every time she finished a mug, someone put another in her hands.
Cian scratched his belly. It shouldn’t have been sexy, but it was. His gray eyes opened fully for the first time. “No. You took a lot longer to explain it. It was quite the lecture, my lover. There was something about making your own way and roaring because you’re a woman. I didn’t understand it at all, and I consider myself a smart man. The only part I really got was when you told me we had to live here.”
Cian showed no ill effects of the enormous amount of ale he had downed. He had to have doubled her intake. The boy could drink.
“No, I said I needed to live here,” Meg corrected. Now she remembered that she had kissed Cian. She had been slightly drunk, and everyone was urging them to kiss. Meg had meant to placate them with a little peck, but Cian had dipped her back over his arm and overwhelmed her. His tongue had slipped into her mouth and had its way with hers. He’d rubbed his body against hers, and she’d felt every inch of his intent. He’d gotten her so hot she might have done him right there.
She needed to stay away from him. He was always touching her. The night before, he’d held her hand or had his arm around her waist all of the time. There hadn’t been a single moment she wasn’t aware of him.
Cian’s face was sweet as he sat up and crossed his legs. He paid no mind to his nudity, or to his morning friend. “I know. You think living here will prove something to Beck. I don’t think so, but I’m willing to go along with what you want. Can we get a bigger bed, though? It was cramped last night. I have no idea how we’re going to fuck on that.”
Meg gasped. He hadn’t heard a word she’d said last night. “We’re not. Cian, we need to talk.”
“I can do that,” he promised with a sober look on his face.
Meg couldn’t take her eyes off his enormous erection. It lay almost flat against his belly. “How do you expect me to hold a serious conversation with you like that?”
He shrugged. “You’re my wife. It’s my permanent state around you. It would probably go away if you jumped on top of me and bounced around for a while. Well, it wouldn’t go away for long.”
Getting to her feet, Meg turned away from the too-tempting sight. Her second husband was proving even more troublesome than the first. She needed to get properly dressed and get her day started. Perhaps then she would be better equipped to handle Cian. Her day clothes were still in the cottage. She would take some time to collect herself and then see to the farm.
“I’m going to get dressed. You…I don’t know. Just take care of that,” she said, avoiding the delicious sight of him as she stumbled out of the room.
She expected to step out into the leftover destruction from the night before, but the yard was pristine once more, without a sign of what had gone on. The gathering had been huge, with everyone in the village showing up to dance and drink. She had been introduced to sidhe, brownies, trolls, gnomes, and some dwarves down from the mountains. They had toasted Cian’s health and the twins’ marriage. Everyone spoke of Beck with great fondness, and Meg had learned a lot about her wayward husband. He had saved many of the people of the village at great cost to himself. For years after the civil war, he had worked hard to settle refugees from his home plane.
It would have been very easy for the king to settle on the Vampire plane. The Dellacourts were a wealthy family who would have taken in Beck and Cian. He could have lived in luxury, and no one would have blamed him. Instead, at seventeen, he decided to establish a village on a safe plane to give his people a home.
Beck was their protector. Without him, the Fae would have dispersed and more than likely had trouble surviving on their own. Cian had given his brother all the credit for founding their own little kingdom. He’d explained to Meg that he had simply followed his brother’s lead. Beck had been the one to take charge in those dark years after losing their parents. Hearing the love and admiration for Beck did nothing to ease the ache in Meg’s heart that he couldn’t love her.
Meg walked slowly, not minding the early morning’s chill. It really was beautiful here. There was a gentle mist coming up from the pond. She saw the cows contentedly eating grass in the distance. The sky was a soft watercolor of blues, pinks, and oranges. It was similar to her plane, but it felt so different. Even the air here was gauzy and sweet. The whole world seemed quiet and still. A wistful thought stole over her. She could be happy here. Meg took a deep breath and continued on toward the cottage.
She would be happy here. Happiness was a state of being. She would just move to that state.
She opened the cottage door and decided to start by getting dressed and fixing breakfast. She would battle the judgmental chickens again, and this time she would try frying the eggs.
“Oh, god,” Meg breathed as a feeling of warmth suffused her lower regions.
She barely managed to close the door behind her as she felt the connection between her and Cian open. It was like someone flicked a switch on in her brain, and the channel had changed. She was suddenly tuned to the Cian Channel, and it was playing porn.
He was stroking himself. She could feel it. His hand was gentle as he stroked from the base of his cock upward, all the way to the crown where he brushed his thumb firmly across the head. There was already wetness there. He used it to lubricate his palm and facilitate smoother strokes. He tightened his hold on the monster, and Meg felt him sigh as he spread his legs and upped the pace.
Little drops of pre-cum wept from the slit of his dick. If she were with him, she would lean over and lick it off. Was that her thought or Cian’s? The connection was so new that Meg had to wonder. A vision of just what Cian wanted her to do flowed over her brain, taking over her thoughts. She would run the tip of her tongue just inside the slit and tease him lightly. His big body would shudder in response and urge her on. He would fist his cock while she sucked the head, begging him to feed her all of his cum.
Meg felt Cian’s chuckle as though it came from inside her own body.
“Bastard,” she whispered.
He knew she could feel him. He was pushing the experience out toward her. It was like she was there with him, almost as though she was Cian. She could feel his pleasure and his intent. He wanted her. Oh, she could feel that. He wanted her so badly. Meg stumbled into the bedroom and threw her body on the bed. She wouldn’t be able to ignore the vision. It felt too good to ignore.
His hand was firm now as he ran it up and down his cock. She writhed on the bed, her legs restless as he caressed himself. He was thinking about her. He’d moved on from thoughts of her mouth to other body parts. He was thinking how good it would feel to have her tight pussy all around him. The muscles of her pussy would clench around his cock, trying to tempt the cum out of him. He wanted to give her his cum. It belonged to her. It was only right for her to take it.
He wanted her on top, her breasts bouncing as she rode him hard. He would love the view from that position. He would grasp her hips and help force her down so his dick could hit her sweet spot.