“My Fae, you are so blasted ugly.” He lifted his right hand from beside my shoulder to poke at my flat stomach with one finger hard enough that a bruise instantly formed—and then disappeared. “Do you even eat, or do you starve yourself?”
“I don’t eat what you surely have to eat to be as repulsive as you.” My lips pulled back in a disgusted snarl. “Do you munch on the shifters you kill when they challenge you?”
“No, I kill them and burn their bodies afterward so their loved ones cannot mourn them.” He squinted at my chest. “This cannot be what elves think breasts are supposed to be. How do babes even suckle?”
“Our children aren’t born the size of monsters. Our children are perfectly proportionate.”
King Athon still stared at my breasts, his head tilting just so. “So those are normal for an elf?”
“You’ve seen plenty of elves before. You damned well know they are.”
“Your mother’s are bigger.”
“Because she is considered curvy for an elf. Mine are perfectly average.” I flashed my fangs up at him. “And we may have a problem, besides the obvious. If your shifter dick is as horribly large as the rest of you, I don’t even know if it is going to fit in me.”
The shifter king’s lush lips curved in a rogue smirk. “I can assure you it is bigger.”
My blink was slow. “I was serious. You may not fit.”
“I am serious, too.” His head plunged to stare at the apex of my thighs, assessing my body intimately. His white hair flopped right onto my face. “My hips fit between there. That’s on the positive side, I suppose.”
My face scrunched up as hair slid into my mouth. “Do you mind, King Athon? You might smell amazing right now, but your hair still tastes like hair.”
He flicked his head back up, and his white hair flew off my face and onto his bare back, only a few wisps of white dangling over his shoulders. “My mind is fuddled right now. I didn’t think this through. I left your bedchamber door open.”
“You get the door. I’ll get the curtains,” I grumbled, and shoved at his huge shoulders. “Hurry the Fae fuck up so we can get this over with.”
Both of us barely pulled ourselves to stand on unstable legs. We swayed where we stood and tried to catch our balance first, our hands clutching at each other for support. Our feet hadn’t even moved for our tasks.
“We aren’t hurrying,” I muttered drunkenly.
“Elf, the room is damned well spinning,” King Athon griped. “Give me a moment to gather my bearings.”
I nodded in full agreement. “How did you get here?”
“Axel flew me.” He shook his head hard, squinting at the door. “I snuck onto the property. No one saw me enter.”
“If they had, you’d be dead by now. Father would have burned you to a crisp if he saw you anywhere near my castle.” I released his arms and walked on shaking legs to the windows across from my bed. “This is the single most humiliating night of my life. Why did the Fae do this to us?”
My bedchamber door slammed, and thenclickedas he turned the lock. The shifter king answered frankly, “I believe it’s a mistake. Hopefully, one we can’t be punished for.”
I yanked the curtains closed on my floor to ceiling windows and heaved a tired breath. “I pray that is true. Otherwise, you will have been the last person I screwed. I’d rather not have that as my final thought before I’m killed. Vomiting on oneself during your own execution would be unseemly.”
I turned back to face the shifter king.
I gagged a little, even as the sight of him slicked my panties further. “There is something simply not right with you. Have you always looked this way?”
King Athon snorted and kicked off his black boots, the ties already unbound, like he had thrown them on in a hurry. His thick gray socks went next, flying across my room. “I am considered extremely attractive in my kingdom, and not merely because I am the king. I just am.”
I stared. “That’s not saying much about your people.”
The shifter king unbuttoned his white leather pants. “Are you going to get naked or do you want me to rip your bra and underwear off for you?”
I quickly rid myself of my remaining clothes. “There.”
His eyes roamed up and down my frame, his gaze flaming with heat from the urge, but his face said it all. He dropped his pants—no underwear—and kicked them somewhere to my right. He snarled, “You are like the gruel my nanny made me every morning when I was young; wholly nauseating and incredibly dull.”
“The feeling is obviously mutual.” My eyes dropped to his erect cock. “I really don’t think you are going to fit. Do shifter women even find that pleasurable?”
