Fairyville (Fairyville #1)(67)
Author: Emma Holly

"Yes," he said solemnly.

Zoe fought not to squirm beneath him. Her sex was pulsing inappropriately, hot and wet and ready for action.

"How often?" she burst out.

Magnus laughed and circled her wrist with stroking fingers. "Oh, half a dozen times a day would be sufficient. More for young fairies."

"Haifa dozen!" Her jaw had fallen. "But that’s—no wonder you always went all night when you finally took someone!"

Magnus’s eyes were hot green fire. "I’d go all week if it were possible to make love the way I want with you." He winced and shifted, and Zoe realized this conversation hadn’t helped his condition.

"Let me," she said, reaching under the quilt for the well-strained fastening of his jeans. Undoing it, she lowered the zipper carefully and reached in. The minute she had his hot, smooth thickness wrapped in her palm, she forgot she’d been intending to relax him.

"Oh, God," Magnus said, his h*ps surging up at her. "Oh, God, I think I have to put Corky back on the floor."

It was all she could do not to gasp at the size of him, and he grew more aroused with every pulse. Alex wasn’t this long, nor Bryan this thick. Helpless to stop herself, she eased him fully out and stroked him from balls to tip, marveling at his steely vitality. His veins were so swollen they resisted pressure almost as well the rest of him.

"Zoe," he said, a moan of praise and relief. "Every morning, I wake up like this, hard and aching from knowing I’ll be seeing you. It makes me happy just to be with you, just to look forward to your company."

"Me, too," she murmured, adoring the abandoned way his body rolled. "I’ve been in love with you a long time."

He stilled at her words, making her realize what she’d admitted. She believed he loved her back, but he’d never said it in so many words. Before she could grow embarrassed, he put his hand over hers. His eyes were very serious.

"You don’t know how happy I am to hear that, but this isn’t going to be easy just because the truth is in the open now. The terms of my magical visa haven’t changed. If I want to stay here, the ritual demands that a woman and I come together as if we were going to procreate. It demands that I spill my pleasure inside of you. Then I have to return the heart I’ve won." He offered her a crooked smile. "That’s the part that trips me up with you. I don’t think I could bear for you to be merely fond of me."

He’d mentioned this before, but only now did understanding dawn. "That’s why none of the others hate you. Because you don’t keep their hearts."

He nodded, the worry in his expression telling a tale she had no trouble deciphering. He thought she’d give him up if she had to share.

She watched the throbbing flesh she held, only her thumb moving on his shaft. He was bruised here, too, though he hadn’t stopped her from caressing him. A drop of fluid beaded from his slit, crystal on his lust-flushed skin. She knew he’d taken pleasure from those other women; knew he had to like them at least a bit, or they’d never have fallen for him. Despite this knowledge, her decision came without effort.

"I want you to stay," she said. "I’ve never felt so connected to anyone, so safe and right and able to be myself. I can learn to live with the other women, if I know it’s me you love most."

When she looked at him, his eyes gleamed with emotion. "Oh, love, I’m not sure Jean live with hurting you."

Zoe bit her lip, then blurted out the truth. "Last night I slept with Alex and Bryan."

Magnus seemed strangely unsurprised by her confession, his smile so understanding, it made her heart wrench even worse with guilt.

Then he dropped his bombshell.

"I know," he said. "I was there."

Chapter Nineteen

Zoe opened the door to Alex’s knock, she had the flushed and frazzled look of a woman who’d been arguing, crying, and being kissed—not necessarily in that order. Alex told himself it wasn’t childish to hope the arguing had come last.

Whether it had or not, Zoe wasn’t ready for visitors.

"Hello," Oscar said shyly from his perch on Alex’s hip. "I’m Oscar. We’re here to see Corky."

That earned him a smile and Alex an inquiring look.

"Our client had to leave Oscar in our care for a while."

"Mommy wanted me to hang around their necks," Oscar said helpfully.

"I see," said Zoe, and Alex could tell she did. She laid her hand on Oscar’s dark-blond hair. "You must be the boy who makes paper fly. You’re in luck, as it happens. Corky is home and always happy to have a new playmate."

Alex set the five-year-old down so he could run after her into the living room, his yellow shoes pattering across the terra cotta floors. Oscar jerked to a halt when he found Magnus sitting up on Zoe’s saddle leather couch. The man looked awfully healthy wrapped in her quilt—a little pale, but not like a guy who’d been bleeding to death an hour ago. The kitten was stretched beside him like a tiny sphinx, his ears alert and interested.

Oddly enough, Magnus seemed to fascinate Oscar more.

"Hey," said the boy in a tone of discovery.

"Hey," Magnus said back.

Oscar took a few steps closer and pointed. "You have the same shoes as me."

Magnus looked down at them and smiled. "So I do."

Goose bumps climbed Alex’s arms, a reaction he was beginning to tire of. Something was going on here, something more than Magnus being a natural with kids. Alex and Bryan had paused at the end of the front hallway. Alex put his hand on Bryan’s arm before he could step farther and interrupt.

"Can you make things move without touching them?" Oscar was asking his new friend.

"If I concentrate. But my specialty is spells and wishes."

"What kind of wishes?"

"Good wishes. I’m strictly a white fairy."

Oscar snickered. "You’re too big to be a fairy."

"Fairies come in different sizes. Some aren’t any smaller than you."

Bryan’s hand took a sudden death grip on Alex’s. "He can’t be saying what I think he is."

But Alex was pretty sure he was. He watched as Magnus lifted Oscar onto the couch. The kitten immediately bounced across Magnus’s lap to sniff at the boy.

"Where are your wings?" Oscar asked, giggling as the kitten tickled him with his whiskers.

Rather than answer, Magnus turned to Alex and Bryan. "Why is this boy with you?"

"His mother thinks he’s not her son," Bryan said simply.

Magnus hummed. "That doesn’t happen often."

Alex couldn’t stand it anymore. He left the entry hall and stepped onto the rug. "You think Oscar is a fairy, too."