An Excerpt From: KEEPING PAIGE

Copyright © MICHELLE M. PILLOW, 2009

 

 

“Who are you? Come out from there. What are you doing in this part of the forest?”

Paige leaned around the spider’s tree, touching the opposite side to peek at the person who spoke. Her hand caressed the rough bark, gripping it as she pressed her weight forward. His voice was strange, accented in a way she had never heard. But, what did that matter? She understood his words easily enough. Unnaturally shy, she watched him with wide eyes.

“Come out. I will not hurt you. I promise.” He gentled his voice and swung down from his mighty horse. She had never seen a creature so big and thick with muscles. His horse was huge, too. Paige guessed it would have to be to carry such a man as this.

He wore a loose shirt over tighter breeches. Boots laced up his calves, over the pants. A sprinkling of hair exposed through the opened laces of his shirt caught her attention, as did the puckering of a scar. Her eyes lifted to his hair, messed up and accented with bits of the forest. Bright ribbons caught her attention. They fluttered in the breeze like small flags.

“Fairy,” she whispered, realizing this must be what the flying pests looked like in their world, all big and tall. She looked down at her arms. Or was she little now? Would she grow wings?

The fairy man lifted his hand to her, drawing her attention back to him. A hint of dark black design showed on his wrist. His fingers curled as if to order her gently from her hiding place.

But nothing about this man appeared to be a fairy pest, beyond his ribboned hair. No, he looked…

Big. Muscled. Strong. Extraordinary. Delectable.

“Fairy?” he repeated, the word softer than the others. “Are you new to my world, my lady?”

Paige nodded, entranced by his lips and the way they opened and closed each time he spoke. Even from the distance she could see the fine texture of their fullness. She wondered if he’d let her touch them. Her fingers tapped lightly against the bark. The scent of nature became heady as her breathing deepened.

His beckoning fingers stopped moving and his hand dropped somewhat. Huskier than before, he asked, “Did you come to Fallenrock through the fairy rings?”

Fallenrock? Again, she nodded. Heat churned inside her, melting her insides and causing her to shake. Every instinct told her she was safe, that he wouldn’t hurt her, that she could go to him, that she should go to him.

Go to him.

“I am Sir Aidan of Fallenrock. I promise you, no one will harm you here. You are most welcome, my lady. You are—”

Paige stepped from behind the tree and stood naked before him. Well, naked except for the gauze belt whose ends tickled her thighs when she moved. His words ended abruptly, dying on his still parted lips, as his eyes swooped down and up only to finally land on her breasts. The brown-green orbs lit with an inner magic. She could see it in the way the light reflected in the pools of his eyes. This proved it. He was a fairy after all. It made sense that she would fall for his magic.

She stared back just as intently, taking in the thick cords of his neck, the texture of his skin, the breadth of his shoulders, the tapering line of his waist, the thickness of his legs. That’s where her eyes stopped. His weight shifted just enough so she could see the bulge of his erection hinted beneath his shirt. Her desires only increased, as did her curiosity to see more, until she couldn’t think or reason beyond the feelings of lust churning inside her. She wanted him. No, she needed him. He was air and food and water and shelter. He was every base need she had ever experienced and she could no more stop her feet from walking toward him than she could give up all those other things.

Go to him. Touch him. Feel him. Breathe him in.

Words were beyond her. He hadn’t moved, his hand still frozen in air, his lips still parted as if frozen in time. Paige didn’t try to make sense of what was happening. She went to him, drawn into the heat of his chest. Selfishly, she studied his features up close, not stopping to wonder what he thought or what he wanted. He smelled of fallen leaves and she pressed her cheek along his jaw to breathe him in. As her skin brushed his for the first time, she moaned.

Touch. Feel. More. Breathe.

Paige reached for his neck, running her hands over his tense muscles. He didn’t stop her. In fact, he still didn’t move. Her fingers traced the scar on his neck, twining in the laces.

Touch more.

She thrust her hands beneath the hem of his shirt, driving them upward onto his stomach and chest. Paige felt small next to him and she was considered tall for her people. Moaning, she explored the defined valleys of his upper body. Every nerve stung with desperation and it showed in the growing roughness of her touch.

“Were you sent for me?” he asked.

Paige barely heard him. But at his expectant look, she nodded—anything to get him to touch her the way she needed him to. Her sex ached, radiating hot desire. He lifted his shirt and tossed it aside, revealing the muscles she had been so apt to explore. Scars marred his skin and the black designs ringing his wrists were repeated higher on his biceps.

More.

He lowered his mouth and kissed her, hard. Paige let him, parting her lips to allow him complete access. The taste of him filled her mouth. His chest pushed fully into her breasts, rubbing the taut nipples. It was unlike anything she had ever felt. Even in her euphoric state, she let him take the lead, bending to the obvious confidence of his embrace. Strong, firm hands slid down her sides, cupping her hips and ass. Aidan pressed her against his arousal, rocking so she felt every inch. At any other time she would have been afraid, but the ambrosia didn’t allow for fear or prudence.

Must have more. Feel him. Touch him. Breathe him. More.

Paige reached her arms around him and held tight. He walked her back into a tree, holding her up by her ass when she would stumble. The bark scratched her skin, but not so bad she wanted to stop. She clawed frantically at his flesh, scratching it in her haste.

Aidan’s hands were between them now, jerking at the laces along his hip. When he couldn’t free himself fast enough, he growled. The animalistic sound gave her chills. He was as desperate as she.