Someone seemed to be pounding on the door, or maybe it was just in my head? Then there was a crash, and before I could process what was going on, strong arms embraced me tightly, whispering sweet words to me.
You’re not alone.
The words were gentle, grounding… real. They didn’t echo like they usually did. No, this voice carried weight.
Slowly, I turned and the breath caught in my throat.
There he stood. The man from the ball. He wasn’t the angel I imagined, no wings or halo. But his beauty… it was otherworldly. A divine ache in my chest, like heaven had sculpted him just for me.
His hair was short and the color of moonlight, shimmering with hints of silver and pale gold beneath the flickering candlelight. His face was sharp, strikingly elegant, carved with the kind of cold perfection that spoke of ancient, royal bloodlines. A straight nose, a strong jaw, high cheekbones, and pointed ears. I didn’t notice them when we danced.
And then there were his eyes. One was a deep blue, and the other, his left eye, was clouded silvery blue, a thin scar running from the brow down to his cheek in a jagged, crimson trail that looked almost like paint in this strange light. The contrast made him look both tragic and unearthly, as if the gods had sculpted him in pieces, just to be admired.
Without thinking, my fingers reached out and traced along his scar, down to his cheek. I felt the faintest warmth of his skin beneath my touch. It had to be the faerie wine. It must’ve been. That was the only explanation for why I would touch a stranger’s face so intimately. And why did he not reject my touch?
“Who are you?” I whispered.
He didn’t answer. He only looked at me, studying me in return.
And then... darkness.
Holy shit, my head felt on fire. Did I even sleep?As I was trying to move, I noticed strong arms tucked around me. Looking upward, I recognized Xavier’s pretty face. His eyes were still closed, lashes thick and dark, curling against his eyelids. I found myself staring, completely mesmerized, as if each lash had beenhand-drawn by something divine.
His bare chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, the dim light tracing the sculpted lines of his torso, all the way down, where the shadows dipped into the sharp angles of his V-line.
“Do you feel better, Gwendolyn?” Xavier asked.
Did he just pretend to be asleep?
“There is so much pain in my head, it feels terrible. What happened?”
Had the masked man been only an illusion?
Xavier rolled over and stood up, his muscular back covered in shadow lines glistening in the rays of the sunlight. God, he was so unfairly beautiful—why did I feel like running my hands over him and touching him everywhere, like he was some kind of map I wanted to learn?
“I’m actually quite surprised that it is not more, since you drank a lot. Even for humans it would be way too much alcohol. Lay back on the bed, I will help you with the pain.”
As I suffered the worst dizziness, I did as he told me. He was towering over the side of my bed, his hands were caressing my head and massaging my scalp.
“Does it feel good?”
“Yes.” Gods, his hands running through my hair ignited fireflies somewhere else. I wanted to do something entirely different right now. What was even wrong with me? Why was I so aroused?
“When will the effects of the alcohol leave my body?” I asked, although the words slipping out of my lips sounded more like a moan.
“It depends on your digestion; humans probably need longer than elves. Vampires on the contrary have a very high tolerance toward faerie wine. It takes a lot for vampires to even get drunk.”
My legs were so tingly, I pressed them together, causing me to moan. God, I just hoped Xavier wouldn’t scent my arousal withhis vampire nose. However, I would never be crazy enough to touch myself in front of him.
I felt Xavier coming head-to-head to me, his face was so gorgeous, and, in that moment, I wanted nothing more than to press my lips against his. Long fingers were caressing my chin and then he went further down to my arms.
“What are you thinking,my little demon?” he asked and stroked his fingers along my arms. I did not want him to stop, what was going on?
“It’s weird,” I responded. “I don’t know…” Shame and embarrassment crept through me.
Instead of addressing my comment, I felt his hands gliding over the swell of my breasts, down my stomach, and resting there. No, that wasn’t enough for me. I took his hand and guided it lower, pressing it between my thighs. “There,” I whispered, breathless. “I need you there.”
“God, you are beautiful. You have no idea how long I’ve waited to touch you like this.” He slipped his fingers under my night dress and stroked my clit. A shudder ran through my bones. I wanted more. I neededmore.
