Frost: A fae romance (Frost and Nectar Book 1)

I took another glass of Faerie wine from the tray of a passing servant and roamed the edges of the ballroom. One of these princesses probably sent that assassin for me, right? People seemed to sense I was the frontrunner, and they’d do anything to win.

Moria was my first suspect, but that was probably just because she was an absolute twat. As I sipped my wine, the musicians started playing a new song. Not a tango, but one with the same meter, and the seductive song floated through the air.

I glanced at Torin, and this time found his pale eyes locked on me, his mouth quirking to the side in a mischievous smile. From the center of the ballroom, he held out his hand to me.

The wine had heated me up now, making my muscles feel lithe and supple. I dropped my champagne flute on a little marble table.

Tuning out the rest of the world, I crossed to Torin. Normally, I hated being the center of attention, but the wine had relaxed me, and I was focused on him alone. And maybe I hated being in the spotlight a little less when I felt sexy as hell in this dress that he’d picked out for me. The violet gown had a plunging neckline and a dramatic slit, seductive and perfect for a tango-style dance. The king had also given me a silver necklace that looked like blackthorn leaves and berries twining around my neck.

I took his hand, my gaze locked on his. In time to the music, we circled each other for a few steps. His gaze was taking me apart. He locked his hand on my waist and pulled me in closer—one sharp, possessive movement. My hips were tight against him, which wasn’t at all how he’d danced with the others…but I wasn’t exactly complaining. Even if I could never let myself fall for him, there was no point in pretending I didn’t like being near him.

Our right hands clasped, and his left hand slid around my lower back, holding me in tight. My left hand rested on his shoulder, and I savored the iron feel of his bicep and shoulder muscles under his velvety jacket.

Despite the cold blue of his eyes, the look he was giving me smoldered, lighting a forbidden flame in my body.

Expertly leading me, he slid his hand a little lower down to the small of my back and guided me in a twist. My right leg slid behind me as he dipped me slightly, and I felt the cool air kiss my bare thigh as my foot shifted forward on the flagstones.

When he brought me back up, he dropped my right hand, clasping my lower back. With a sensual smile, he held me against him in a way that was slightly more indecent than the tango I’d learned in class…

All eyes were on us, but I no longer cared.

Torin guided my back in an arch as he dipped me, his body leaning over mine, lips hovering over my neck. In the oak grove, all it had taken was one brush of his mouth against mine to light me on fire. Just the memory was enough to make my pulse race, to make me acutely aware of every point where our bodies met, and the feel of his heart beating under his clothes. If we were alone here—if this were real—I’m not sure I would have had an ounce of willpower left.

He guided me up again, and I melted into him as he took complete control.

As I arched my back in another dip, my head fell back, and I closed my eyes. He lowered his head, and I felt his breath heating the top of my breasts. When Torin lifted me, my cheek brushed slowly against his, and I found myself wrapping my arms over his shoulders, nestling my head into the crook of his neck. The music swelled, and the deep throbbing of a drum echoed through the hall.

The king leaned down, nuzzling my throat. I heard him sigh, then breathe in, inhaling my scent. In a slow caress, the backs of his knuckles brushed my ribs, the idle stroke of a man who had everything he wanted right in his hands. Heat raced over my body in the wake of his touch, and I knew he could hear the racing of my heart, my breath speeding up…

He could tell I was turned on. Were we even dancing anymore?

With a sigh, he brushed his hands along my arms, clasping my hands in his again. He raised them above my head, and our bodies pressed together. Dazed, my head tilted back, and I met his gaze.

This was the same exhilarating thrill I’d felt when sparring with Torin in the forest, but with an intoxicating, sensual feel to each movement. Never in my life had I been more desperate to kiss someone. He seemed to be able to communicate and guide me through his movements, like he understood how every muscle in my body worked, and how to get the exact result he wanted…

He could have me begging if he wanted.

I was pretty sure I had the answer to Shalini’s question. Yes, fae men were undoubtedly better than their human counterparts in bed. At least, I was almost certain this one was. And of course he was, because he was nowhere near relationship material.

With a nearly imperceptible growl, his hands moved to my hips. He crouched slightly, then lifted me up above his head. Holy shit.

When Torin lowered me, I was close against him once more, sliding slowly down his body. As my left foot hit the ground, I found my right leg wrapped around his upper thigh. He leaned into me, arching my spine as he pressed over me, holding me firmly in the small of my back. Desire darkened his eyes, and his lips parted.

Maybe it was all for show—but I wasn’t so sure anymore. The cameras couldn’t see the look in his eyes, but I could. And that look said he wanted me as much as I wanted him. His fingers tightened on me possessively.

With what felt like a supreme act of will, Torin straightened, and I unhooked my leg from him, stepping away. Torin dropped my hand, though his eyes lingered on me.

I stepped back—he had other dances tonight, after all. But my heart was pounding in my chest like I’d just returned from battle.

I stayed, sipping a bit more of the Faerie wine, watching as he danced with Alice not once, but twice. Despite her worries, she danced gracefully, and the king was genuinely smiling at her.

Did I have to stay here and watch him dance with one woman after another? I’d already put on the show required of me. It was all caught on camera.

So, as Moria grabbed him for another dance, I slipped out the dark entrance and headed back to my room.

The castle was huge. Twenty minutes later, as I made my way down the empty hall, I was aware of a hollow, aching loneliness. Was he dancing the same way with someone else now? Truly, it was hard not to wonder.

But I’d sworn off men, hadn’t I? It was why I was “the chosen one” here.

The sound of footfalls behind me made my heart race, and it occurred to me that walking back to my chamber alone might not have been the best idea with an assassin on the loose. I heard the other person’s pace increase, and I turned, ready to fight.

But when I whirled around, I found Torin behind me, hands in his pockets. He wasn’t smiling anymore. “You shouldn’t be walking around here on your own, Ava. Not when someone tried to kill you.”

I heaved a breath. “Sorry. I was trying to sneak out.”

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Why?”

Did he want me to admit I’d felt the tiniest twinge of jealousy? Because I wasn’t about to. I shrugged. “I was bored.”

He pressed me against the wall, placing his hands on either side of my head. With the look he was giving me, I felt like he was taking me apart, examining every inch of my soul. “You’re really not what I expected.”

I licked my lips, and his eyes caught the movement, lingering on my mouth.

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” I asked.

“Both.”

“That’s certainly confusing.”

He lifted a hand to trace his fingertips over my collarbone. My body sparked at the light contact. “Tell me again how much you hate me.”

My pulse quickened. “Is this your kink?”

“Something like that.”

In the dim torchlight, I could see clearly how sharp his cheekbones were, how perfect his lips…

So why not play along? A perfect rebound. “You’re arrogant and desperate to give off the impression that you’re in control, all so you can cover up the truth.”

He arched an eyebrow, his hand sliding around the back of my neck. His thumb brushed the skin of my throat, his eyes burning bright. “And what truth would that be?” he whispered.

“That you’re terrified of your own emotions, so you won’t let anyone close.”

A slow, seductive smile curled his lips. “It sounds like a state you understand well. One idiot broke your heart, and you swore off love forever.”

“You are an irredeemable snob who believes you deserve power because of an accident of birth.”

I stroked my hands over his glorious chest as I spoke, reveling in the feel of his steely muscles, eliciting a quiet growl from him.

“We would be a match made in hell,” he purred, staring at my lips. “Your family lacks a noble lineage, a truth betrayed by your untrained manners at every opportunity.”

I reached up and touched his face. “And you’re stupid enough to think that matters, aren’t you, Your Majesty?”

His knee nestled between my thighs, pinning me in place. “I’m not someone anyone should fall for, understood?”

My neck arched, my body going taut, ready to give in to him. “Loud and clear.”

“But I can’t seem to stop thinking about you and the way your body feels against mine,” he murmured. “Just one kiss, Ava. I want more, of course. I want to take my time with you, to explore all of you. But I can’t have that, because none of this can be real. So, just one kiss.”

It was almost a question, and I nodded, my lips parting.

At last, he captured my mouth with his, and I tasted the sweet, fruity tang of Faerie wine on his lips. It was a gentle kiss at first, until he tilted his head and his tongue swept in. Heat radiated through me as the kiss deepened, his tongue flitting against mine in a sensual caress.

My body was igniting like wildfire, my core going tight and loose at the same time. Aching for him.

One of his hands stroked down my body—my shoulder, the curve of my breast, my waist. I was desperate for him to caress me all over, and I let out a light moan. His hands moved further down my hips and into the slit of my dress. He reached around the curve of my upper thigh, and lifting my leg around him, he pressed into the apex of my thighs. Gripping me, he moved his hips against me, and I arched into him.

He pulled away from the kiss, letting out a hiss of breath. But he was still clinging to my thigh—one hand pressed against the wall, the other on me. “Have I told you how much I love the way you smell, Ava?”

I threaded my fingers into his dark hair. “Shh. We’re not doing compliments.”

He’d said just one kiss, but that was a lie. The King of Faerie claimed my mouth again. My hips moved against him, and the quiet rumbling in his chest made my breasts go tight.

I could feel his hardness straining against me, and his kiss had grown frenzied, desperate.

We were tasting each other, and the pleasure of this kiss had swept all rational thought from my mind like a winter wind. But it wasn’t enough. The ache between my thighs demanded more.

He caught my lower lip between his as he pulled away, ending the kiss. His fingers were threaded in my hair, and he seemed reluctant to let go. Catching his breath, he rested his forehead against mine. My lips felt deliciously swollen.

“We are a match made in hell, but I have never wanted anyone more, Ava Jones,” he rasped. Meeting my gaze one last time, he stepped back. “I’m sending guards to your room, immediately. I won’t have anything happen to you.”

He turned and walked down the shadowy hall, his crown gleaming like fire under the flickering torches.