His chest rises and falls with a deep breath and maybe something more. Maybe, like me, he’s navigating emotions that are heavier and more complicated than the stories teach us love should be. I take his hand and lead him into my room.
He waves his hand, and a soft breeze closes the door behind us. “You’re sure?”
“Yes.” Maybe I’m selfish. Maybe this will make everything worse when he finds out the truth, but . . . “I want this.”
Stepping forward, he reaches around me and slowly unlaces my dress. I let it fall from my shoulders and stand still in front of him in nothing but a flimsy lace camisole, matching underwear, and the dagger he strapped to my calf. I let him look at me, and when he lifts his eyes to meet mine, they’re hot, dark. I feel beautiful. If guilt nags at me from a corner of my mind, I lock it away to focus on him.
“You’re perfect,” he whispers. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
As soon as I say it, I see the vulnerability in his eyes and hate myself for the question. He didn’t kiss me until that last day in Fairscape because he knew I hated the fae. He believed I would hate him when I found out the truth.
I don’t have long to dwell on the realization because he’s taking me in his arms and cupping my face in his hands. He kisses me long and hard, hands trailing up and down my back, over my shoulders and my breasts, across my stomach. He grips my hips in his big hands and kisses his way down my neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive flesh, setting my wine-warmed skin ablaze with every kiss, every scrape of his teeth and flick of his tongue.
His fingers are rough where they curl under the top of my camisole. The thin strap snaps when he tugs it down, baring me to his mouth and his wicked tongue. My eyes float closed and my head falls back. Nothing matters but the feel of his kisses, his hands on my body, the tingle of his teeth scraping across that sensitive peak. My core tightens with pleasure, with need, and I press closer, telling him what I need with the arch of my back and the soft sounds that spill from my lips.
I tug on his hair until his mouth finds mine again, and our tongues seek and stroke. He’s never kissed me like this. Raw, feral, ravenous. I unbutton his tunic and slip it from his shoulders. I want that sun-kissed skin all over me. But then he steps away, and I whimper in protest.
His lips quirk into a cocky grin. “I’m not going far. I promise.” He presses a single finger to my breastbone, and my skin tingles as his hand flares with light. He trails a finger down between my breasts, over my stomach, over each hip, leaving a glowing path in the wake of his touch. As the light fades, the fabric falls away, even my scabbard and dagger fall to the floor with a thud, leaving me completely nude, my undergarments in tatters on the floor.
He devours every inch of me with his gaze, lips parted, breath jagged.
“Magical showoff,” I say, grinning as I reach for him.
His deft fingers stroke down my back, over my hips, and back up. “What good is magic if I can’t use it to impress the woman I love?”
My heart squeezes at the words, and I freeze. I’ve known I loved Sebastian for a long time, but I’m not sure I ever believed he could return those feelings. I didn’t believe I was worthy of his love, and he’s giving it to me now, when my actions prove I’m not.
“I do love you, you know.” His eyes are hooded as he looks down at me. “Does that scare you? Knowing . . . who—what I am?”
Guilt breaks out of its cage and slices through me. “I was so ignorant, Sebastian, and so much of my prejudice came from my mother’s choices. But you . . .” I trace his ear with my fingertip, lingering at the pointed peak. He closes his eyes and shudders against me. “I loved you in Fairscape, loved the mage’s apprentice who kept me from despair, and I love you now. The golden fae prince who loves his family and wants to find a way for feuding kingdoms to find true peace.” I look into his eyes and send up a rare prayer to the gods: that whatever happens after this night, whatever comes of Sebastian and me, he’ll never doubt that I meant these words. “I’m so sorry I ever thought I wanted you to be different. I love you as you are.”
He opens one palm and a pile of shiny jewels appears there. Then the other opens and silky red rose petals spill to the floor. “Anything you want, Brie. Anything I can give you is yours.”
I sweep away the contents of both hands, sending the jewels clinking to the floor and the petals scattering around us. With a step forward, I guide his arms back around me. “I don’t need flowers or jewels. I want only you.” I press my mouth to his and slide my hands up his back, relishing the feel of his warm skin under my hands and against my breasts. “I want this.”