Page 84 of My Faire Lady

A breath, then she presses her lips to mine.

It’s nothing like the performative kiss we shared on the jousting field—the one we claimed was for the benefit of the crowd. It’s gentle and exploratory and as she parts her soft lips for mine, I wrap an arm around the small of her waist, pulling her body flush against me.

“Lottie,” I breathe.

She inhales a small gasp, and I chase it with my lips, stepping forward until the backs of her thighs hit the desk. I reach behind her and shut the computer, shoving it to the side as I tear away my lips only long enough to lift her onto the surface. A breathy laugh comes from her throat, and she parts her legs.

She smiles against my mouth. “Thank goodness.”

I lean back, far enough to study her face. “For what?”

“I was so worried our kiss during the joust was the only one I’d ever get. I replayed it over and over, because I didn’t want to forget what it felt like.” She traces her thumb over my bottom lip. “But I was wrong. I’d never forget something like this.”

The desk lamp lights her face in a warm glow, and she hooks her fingers around the back of my neck, pulling my lips back to hers. My magic swirls beneath my skin, aching for her. I brace a hand on the desk, balancing myself over her as she breaks the kiss and tilts her head back, exposing the column of her throat.

My heart hammers in my chest, and heat gathers low in my stomach. A voice, buried deep within me, screams to untangle myself from her, that this is precisely what we were trying to avoid. But as she arches her back and presses herself against me, the voice silences.

I press my lips to the hinge of her jaw, my breaths ragged, and as she lets out a low hum, I dip lower, nipping at the sensitive skin beneath her ear. She gasps, and her fingers tighten in my hair. She shifts closer, until my weight against hers is the only thing keeping her from falling off the desk.

I pepper kisses over her skin, and with each breathy noise that comes from her lips, my core tightens, twisting and braiding with my magic. Cradling the back of her neck, I drag my mouth over her collarbone, her skin salty against the tip of my tongue.

“Scarlet,” she breathes, reaching a hand beneath the hem of my tunic.

Her fingers drag along the skin of my waist, and I press my forehead into the crook of her neck as her fingernails trace the band of my pants. My thoughts slow—air entering my lungs like syrup.

She lowers her mouth to the arch of my ear. “Touch me.”

The words billow over my skin, a wave of goosebumps cresting in their wake. I blink, and through the haze, my reflection stares at me from the window. But beyond that, beyond the pane of glass and the stone facade of the compound, is the faire.

The land I’ll never leave.

I jerk back, and the moment her body is no longer pressed against mine, my magic revolts, begging me to close the distance again. Swallowing, I shake my head and pin my gaze to the ground.

“Lottie, I—we can’t.”

30

Iwrap my hands around the lip of the desk, digging my nails into the underside as my chest rises—my breaths frayed drags of air.

“Why not?” My voice is weak, breathless. “Why can’t we?”

My corset is a vise around my lungs, and Scarlet swallows hard, forcing her eyes away from the spot on my collarbone still burning from her kiss.

“You know why,” she says. “You’re leaving, and I have to stay. We agreed that we’d keep our distance, that it’d be easier⁠—”

“But you want to, don’t you?”

She huffs out a small, defeated laugh, and I watch the way her fingers dip into the front pockets of her pants. It’s not a question I have to ask. There was nothing restrained about the way she lifted me to the desk, the way her fingers trembled against the ties of my corset—like it was a battle to stop herself from undoing them. But I need her to say it. I need to know that this aching need isn’t one sided, for her to peel away the armor she hides behind.

“Lottie,” she whispers, dragging her bottom lip between her teeth. “You are everything I’ve ever wanted.”

My chest tightens at the way her gaze falls to the ground, as if wanting is something she should apologize for. As if it’s a burden, to have this beautiful, strong, incredible woman want me.

I ease my bare feet to the floor, the hem of my skirt brushing my ankles as I pad to her. She neither steps closer nor retreats, her feet rooted to the spot.

Her unbound hair falls around her shoulders, and while she passes as a human, the magic swirling beneath her skin is undeniable. She might not have lived her as long as the other creatures, but the land exists within her. She grew up in the trees, earned her place in this world among the sprites and fae.

I want to breathe her air, and if our time is limited, I want to inhale every sip of it.