“It’s okay to open your eyes, little one!”
She felt the flutter from his wings still, the resilient surface of grass underfoot. Her head was pressed hard into his neck.
A fairy’s neck.
No. Fucking. Way.
She pulled away, shaking her head. It was some macabre dream. She was laying under the sycamore tree and having a dream sequence. Maybe she’d wake up and discover that she was really in bed at home.
She opened her eyes to Wonderland.
Everywhere, color. Trees were fantastic shades of pink, and vermillion, and yellow, and purple. The smells….cinnamon from the Elf Lord. What had he said his name was? Kraken? no…that was a monster, though she thought she remembered fairies as being akin to ‘monsters’ …just not of the ugly-scary variety. Wasn’t a monster just something that was away from the “norm”?
And she was digressing. Avoiding. Classic avoidance.
She took a deep breath. Sweet smells, bread and chocolate. Coffee and roses. And curling through it all, cinnamon.
He smelled so fucking good.
For a gay fairy.
“Tis pleased I am to see you smiling, lass.” She looked up into eyes that were so sapphire they looked like bright jewels. His face was a bit long, a bit angular, but it all worked. Simply put, he was beautiful.
She kept getting a vibe from him. Or maybe it was just her hormones on overload. His little male nipples were puckered tight, and she felt hers tingle and respond.
Why the fuck was she looking at his nipples???
Unbelievable. This whole thing was just unbelievable.
“You are a comely lass.”
“what?!” she exclaimed.
“You are pretty. Did you think I meant elsewise?”
She couldn’t tell, but she wondered if his use of somewhat archaic language was a come-on. Or if all fairies talked that way.
His eyes travelled down her form. She felt…like he was touching her. Her lips parted, and she drew in a deep breath. His gaze lingered on the round swells of her breasts. She could all but feel the tingling of that gaze. When he looked at her legs, the upper junction, and gave a half-smile, she could feel her lower body wake up. And hunger.
Geezuz. Desperate to be laid much? she asked herself, in her most cynical self-voice.
By a fucking fairy.
She imagined bringing that convo to the next munch.
“Oh, yeah, and then i was swept to Wonderland and got fairy fucked. Oh, yes, and let me tell you, licking fairy wings is so….hawt…”
She shook her head.
“You seem…bemused, little one. I see many things on your face. Doubt, of course and not unexpected. Not many are brought to the land of the Fae by The Tree. She chose you, for a reason. ”
“That can only be discovered…by you, little one.”
His hand rose to cup her chin for a moment, and she wondered how it would feel to rise to her toes and kiss those perfect lips. A faint smile rose to his mouth, and she felt hunger.
And her stomach growled.
He slipped his hand from her face, grazing her shoulder, and reaching for her hand. He pulled her from the garden and turned her towards his house.
It was a sweet cottage, the kind one might expect in a storybook wonderland. Perhaps all those stories had elements of truth? She didn’t know the answer to that one. Somewhere along the line she had decided to suspend disbelief, and just go with the flow.
Inside, the cottage was neat and tidy. A hand-thrown pot, lopsided and yet beautiful held a posey of wildflowers. The windows were wide and curtainless. The floor was slick, smooth, old-looking. She wondered if that old wives tale about fairies living forever was true.
She looked all around the house, studiously avoiding looking at his ass. It was a gorgeous ass. Not that she was looking. Because she wasn’t.
He brought her into an open room, a simple table against one wall, under a wide window. The vista before her was stunning. This house was on a rise…a…knoll, she supposed it would be called…and down below…magic.
Houses lay about in disorderly fashion, looking for all the world like flowers amidst a colorful garden. Off in the distance, a castle, so Magic-Kingdomesque that she wondered if old Walt had come across The Tree at some point. Tall spires reached into the cerulean sky, colors from pink to blue to gold washed along each one.
It should have looked garish.
Instead, it was stunning.
He came up behind her, resting his chin on her head, his hands on her shoulders, gentle. The smell of cinnamon washed around her, making her mouth water.
He spoke not a word, just stood with her, steadying her as she began to realize, she really was not home, anymore.
At long last, he turned her, and pushed her gently into a chair.
“Eat, little one, eat, and then we will talk.”
He took the first morsel and slipped it between her lips. She opened, chewed, swallowed, her eyes locked with his.
On the last morsel, she gave in to her need to taste him. Her lips closed around his finger, and sucked, very gently.
His eyes widened, and a broad smile crossed those sensual lips.
“Aah, she wants to play…”
In a heartbeat or less, she was pulled from the chair, to being crushed against his chest. He was so fucking strong… was her last coherent thought, before his lips met hers.