Filed To Story: Cursed Legacies Series Free PDF by Morgan B Lee
“Who?” Silas frowns.
I admit it. Deep down, some petty part of me is satisfied that he didn’t bother retaining her name. I’m a bitch like that.
“The fire elemental you fucked a few weeks ago,” I tell him as if I couldn’t care less. “According to her, at least.”
He grimaces. “I don’t remember details about anyone I’ve been with. Typically, I had to get myself fairly drunk to get through the paranoia before I could even get into bed with someone, and then I’d get out of that bed as soon as it was over just to be safe. I’ve certainly never brought anyone into my own dorm room.” Then he pauses, frowning. “Wait. What do you mean, according to her? Was this girl goading you? When was this?”
He’s so up in arms, it’s almost amusing.
Still wrapped in the blanket from the infirmary, I venture deeper into the dorm before stopping in front of the hearth to examine the crackling fire.
“It doesn’t matter. What did you want to talk to me about?”
He moves behind me, brushing some of my hair over my shoulder. We’re near enough that I can smell that mild bourbon and spice aroma on him.
“I need to apologize. The wager we made was my idea. I take full blame for it.”
Damn it. If I’d known this chat would be about their stupid bet, I wouldn’t have agreed to come here at all. Some people believe talking about problems will lay them to rest, but I prefer the old-fashioned way—with a rope and shovel. I’d rather sleep in a coffin than talk about this ever again.
“Just forget it, Silas.”
“No. I will never brush something under the rug if it has hurt you. We’re discussing this.”
“For the last fucking time, drop it.”
He pushes on anyway. “You think we were only after the prizes, but that isn’t?—“
I spin to glare up at him, ready to be done with this. “Look, it’s not the first time someone manipulated me into bed and fucked me to get what they wanted. It’s shitty, but I’ll get over it, so let it go.”
Silas stares at me for a solid seven seconds, unblinking. Then he snarls, baring his teeth, and?—
He has fangs. Huh. Those are new.
“What?”
he roars.
I tip my head. “Do all blood fae have retracting fangs? That’s?—“
“What do you mean, someone manipulated you into bed? Who the fuck did that to you?”
In the flickering firelight with fury and shadows dancing on his face, with pointed ears, eyes red as blood, and gleaming fangs, he truly does look like the descendant of a monster, primed and ready to kill.
Utterly gorgeous.
But such a hypocrite. As if he has the right to get mad on my behalf.
“You did,” I point out coldly. “
Scútráche.”
That’s a fae insult that Lillian accidentally taught me when she was ranting about my father one day. She was scandalized when I repeated it later. It’s quite a severe insult regarding overdrinking and the size of one’s penis, plus a sprinkling of family shame that the fae abhor.
That takes Silas aback. He drags both hands through his hair, tugging and mussing the curls as he takes a deep breath to calm down. When he speaks again, the fangs are nowhere to be found.
“No. I wasn’t manipulating you. None of us were.” He looks at me, vulnerability replacing the fury and softening his features. “I made that bet because there’s something I needed. It only hinged on you because wanting you is the only thing we four have ever shared.”
I recall what he mentioned in the Matched Ball and arch a brow. “This thing you needed. Was it the Frost ledgers or the dragon scales?”
Silas opens his mouth, closes it, and looks away with a sigh.
He’s probably not sharing because he doesn’t trust me. That’s understandable, but it’s still irritating that he won’t tell me why it was crucial for him to win a bet where nailing me was the determining factor. So although his help with tracking down Kenzie and the changeling would be great, I decide I’ll handle shit on my own instead of putting up with this.
I turn to leave, but Silas holds up an arm to stop me.
“Stay.”
“Make me.”
Silas’s jaw clenches, and then he does the last thing I expect.
He gets on his knees.
MAVEN
Seeing Silas on his knees immediately does something to me. Something that heats my entire body.
“I’m not letting you go anywhere until you know how truly sorry I am that you ever had reason to doubt my motivation for being with you,” he murmurs, gazing up at me. “I need you to forgive me, Maven.”
It’s far too warm in here. I can’t seem to think straight as I stare down at the sharply dressed blood fae in front of me, whose intense, blood-red, pleading focus is all on me.
It’s…heady.
“You want my forgiveness?” I whisper. “Fine. Beg for it.”
“Please—“
I drop the blanket and slide my lace-gloved hand over his mouth to muffle him, tingles spreading as I feel the warmth of his lips through the thin fabric. Something has come over me—I’m mad, but…I also need this. This power over him. I want it enough that I ignore the shiver down my spine at touching someone else, even through lace.
“No. Your mouth can do better than that. Beg me without words, Silas.”
His red gaze flares with hunger, devouring my body and lingering on my toplessness before stopping at the apex of my thighs. A thrill spreads from my hand to my chest when he licks his lips slowly, his tongue brushing against the fabric on my palm. I remove my hand, feeling nearly lightheaded when Silas immediately presses me back until the backs of my knees hit the fainting couch—and then I’m seated, and he’s kneeling between my legs.
His eyes arrest mine as he places a lingering kiss against the skin on the side of my exposed knee, sending more goosebumps rippling.
“Are you all right with me touching you like this, sangfluir?”
“I will be if your apology is impressive enough,” I murmur as a challenge, reaching out to tangle my fingers in his soft curls.
When I decide to fist his hair, twisting hard, Silas’s eyes slip shut, and he grunts softly. One of his hands pushes up my dress, but he pauses when he feels the strap around my thigh where two particularly fun daggers are sheathed.
When he sees them, his lips quirk up. His eyes meet mine, shining with dark pride.
“So vicious.
Naen mahk.”
In fae, that means good girl. I am most decidedly not a good girl.
Yet, for some reason, hearing Silas call me that in his husky, low voice makes heat curl down my spine.
His head disappears beneath the skirts before his hot tongue drags roughly in precisely the right spot. I gasp, and my eyes slam shut.
New Book: Returned To Make Them Pay
On her wedding anniversary, Alicia is drugged and stumbles into the wrong room—straight into the arms of the powerful Caden Ward, a man rumored never to touch women. Their night of passion shocks even him, especially when he discovers she’s still a virgin after two years of marriage to Joshua Yates.