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The second Faedrah Austiere walked into his life off the canvas, everything in Rhys McEleod’s world stopped making sense. Not only does her story sound like a Grimm’s fairy tale, evidently he’s been cast as the villain. If that isn’t enough, the mirror inside that old, beat up armoire at her uncle’s condo is supposedly a doorway to another world. Ever since the pathway opened, something inside him has seemed…off. If what his muse says is true, they are headed for an epic showdown, but he isn’t about to let her go. Nothing is more important than Faedrah’s protection, even if her parents refuse to accept him.
Though certain their fates are bound by more than the golden key Princess Faedrah wears around her neck, it is paramount Rhys’ true identity be kept secret. Should news of his bloodline ever reach her kingdom, their entire quest to save her people could be lost. Their only hope to prove his loyalty is to steal the map to the dark lord’s Crystal Crypt. Yet her a plan endangers her beloved more than the accusations he faces in her kingdom and, to escape evil’s grasp, she and Rhys must take a leap of faith beyond her wildest imagination.
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“I’m laughing at you. Is that so bad?” He slid a hand over her perky round ass and shoved her hips forward, grinding his cock into her belly. Her tough-as-nails exterior didn’t scare him. In fact, it made him horny as hell. Another thing she’d be wise to remember.
A gasp parted her lips and she slapped both hands to his chest. “I do not take kindly to your impertinence, sir.”
“Which is exactly why you need to understand a little good-natured ribbing doesn’t change how I feel.” He grabbed the mouth vent of her helmet and pried it off her head. When it came to Faedrah, there was only one way to show her where he stood.
She shook out her hair and the tips tickled his fingers. His shaft pulsed as he gathered the heavy mass along her back and dragged her lips to his.
The resistance on his chest firmed before she relaxed beneath him. Her lips parted and he accepted the cue to dip his tongue inside. She ran her palms under the unzipped sides of his leather jacket and fisted his shirt, tugging him closer, opening wider.
Christ, she drove him crazy. It was impossible he could ever get enough. He dropped the helmet and a hollow clunk echoed down the alley as he clasped her neck, devouring her lips again and again, nipping and sucking. The silky glide of her tongue, the hungry way she matched him stroke for stroke. Her flavor was like bathing in a breath of fresh air. Everything about her cooled his raw nerves and, at the same time, they were so alike—defiant, tough and persistently itching for a fight.
He scooped her up by the thighs, wrapped her long legs around his waist and strode forward, slamming her against the side of his building. She shuddered in his arms, shoved a hand under his dego-t and raked her nails down his spine. Shit, the way she responded to him, how she seemed to know exactly what he needed made him harder than the brick at her back. If it wasn’t for the fucked-up mess they were in, he’d carry her back upstairs and bury himself inside her until all this bullshit about wizards and kingdoms and alternate realms was nothing but a bad memory.
“Fuck, Faedrah.” He broke away from her lips, balancing his forehead against hers, their bodies swaying. “When I’m near you, I can’t think straight.”
Her heavy breaths matched his, but her brow twitched like he’d just admitted where Hoffa was buried. “I shall do my best to use that information to my fullest advantage.”
He chuckled. One thing was for sure. Life with her would never be boring. “You got any leftover doubts about whose side I’m on?”
“Good. Remember that moving forward.”