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Hollow: Isa Fae paranormal romance (Fallen Sorcery Book 2) by Steffanie Holmes, Isa Far, Fallen Sorcery (12)

Aisling

“Wake up,” a deep voice whispered in her ear. “I have a surprise for you.”

Aisling opened one lazy eye, the voice not quite calling her from her dreams. How could it, when the boy in her dreams and the man leaning over her bed were one and the same?

“Get out of here,” she murmured, catching the twinkling gleam in Niall’s eyes. She’d learned over the last few weeks that it meant only trouble. “I was on a beach.”

“Not until you agree to come with me.” He grabbed the covers, started yanking them away. Aisling thrust out her arms to stop him, painfully aware that her nightdress had hitched up around her waist and she wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

“You’re being ridiculo – hey, give that back!”

Niall yanked all the covers – including her – onto the floor. Aisling shrieked in delight as he climbed on top of her, his heavy weight pinning her down. She gasped in the scent of him, and the tiny hairs on her skin stood on end.

I was going to ask him something … it was important … She searched her mind for the niggling feeling that she had something vital to discuss with Niall, something that had kept her tossing and turning for hours last night. But his eyes held her in their thrall, and her thoughts turned to soup as her body surged with the strange energy that forever zapped between them.

Niall’s lips hovered dangerously close to hers. She could just move her head slightly, and press hers against him. Finally, finally, she would know what it was like to feel the touch of a man. The itch that invaded every pore in her body would be scratched.

Once you cross that boundary, you can never go back.

“We should stop,” she whispered.

“Yeah.” That pain flashed over Niall’s eyes again. Aisling had been seeing it more and more the last few days. He stood, dusting off his clothes, and gestured for her to follow him.

Aisling’s body sang with energy from where their skin had met. She dug her nails into the carpet, wishing it could be different, that she had not told him to stop. It’s the right thing to do. Even if it hurts like hell.

And then she remembered what it was – the memory that had been dancing around the edges of her mind.

He had left his room last night, carrying something in his arms.

The memory sent a shiver down her spine, that had nothing to do with her desire. Niall hadn’t mentioned any nocturnal walks around the house, and since he told her pretty much everything these days, that didn’t bode well for the bond of trust between them.

He’s hiding something, but what? Does it have something to do with that object he was carrying in his arms? It looked like a statue or a metal tool or something, but why haven’t I seen it before? Does it have something to do with the weapon he said the fae were building?

I told you never to trust a fae, her mother screamed.

Aisling realized she hated the idea of Niall wandering around alone, touching things that had been part of her family for centuries, exploring the house unaccompanied. Last night, she’d been too surprised to see him standing so confidently in the hall that she’d shrunk away into the shadows before he noticed her, and she’d been too scared to follow him, too afraid of what she might discover.

You don’t want to admit to yourself that he could be lying to you, her mother’s voice thundered in her ears.

Aisling suspected that was true, and now, feeling her skin tingle at his touch, she felt more confused than ever.

“You coming?” Niall poked his head back around the door.

“Yeah, sure.” She rose, rubbing the bare skin of her arms. She yanked on a pair of jeans and a shirt. On her dresser, the long, thin knife her mother had given her before she died glinted from beside her jewelry box. Aisling tucked it into her back pocket, her heart pounding, then followed Niall down the hall.

“You’re not gonna believe it.” His voice rose with excitement.

Niall led her up the stairs to the first story of the eastern wing, where the guest and master suites were located. Aisling didn’t go up there much, as was evidenced by the thick layer of dirt clinging to the furniture in the hall. The rooms were too large for the light of her lamps – she was terrified of what might be hiding in the corners she couldn’t see. The attic had already succumbed to the void, and long black cracks crisscrossed the ceilings on this floor, spreading out like a poisoned web, ensnaring everything in its path.

“We have to be careful up here,” she said, her stomach flipping in nerves. Was this a trap? Was that what Niall had been doing late last night – plotting how he might get rid of her?

Her hand dug into the back pocket of her jeans, closing around the narrow blade. I won’t let him take me without a fight.

Niall led her past open bedroom doors. The lantern in his hand cast a small circle of light around them, illuminating corners of enormous armoires and ornate four-poster beds. He paused at a door near the end of the hall, a door that Aisling couldn’t remember being there last time.

“Oh,” she said, beaming, the tension in her stomach relaxing slightly. “You found the upstairs bathroom again.”

Niall shook his head. “Even better.”

He swung open the door.

They were standing in a room Aisling had never entered before. It was enormous, three times at least the size of the ballroom downstairs, and seemed to stretch on and up into infinity. Tall trees sprouted from the floor, pushing up the rotting floorboards as they twisted around each other, creating an indoor forest. At the foot of one of the trees, she noticed a small, enamel basin. Above the basin, a black-stained mirrored cabinet protruded from the wood. This room was the bathroom, but the house had done this to it.

“Wow,” she breathed, turning in a slow circle to take it all in. The foliage from the tall trees spread so thick, she couldn’t see a ceiling above it. Vines tangled between them, creating a storybook jungle. Along the vines, there were strung globes that glowed with a warm light. It must’ve cost Niall several units of atern to create the globes – and she knew Niall hated to use magic unless it was absolutely necessary. In the distance, she heard the chirps of birds, and the rustle of leaves blowing in the breeze. She rubbed her arms. How was there even a breeze? “How … how did you find this place?”

“Sometimes, I have trouble sleeping,” Niall said. “You might have heard me wandering around at night.”

Aisling nodded. I wasn’t mistaken. I did see him sneak out. He’s admitting it. The tension in her body relaxed completely. She felt awful about the knife in her pocket. Of course Niall wasn’t lying to her. After all this time, she should know him better than that. She should stop judging him just because of the shape of his ears – he was different that other fae, she knew it now.

“Sometimes I come up here to look.” He grinned sheepishly. “Originally it was just that I wanted to see if I could find out where the water in my room was coming from, but then I got interested in what the rooms up here were doing, how they were changing. Last night I came up and found this door. I had to show it to you. Come on.”

He grabbed her hand and led her down a short path into a small clearing. Leaves and twigs crunched under her feet. Aisling breathed deep, tasting the crisp air, a flood of memories from her childhood rushing back to her. Bethany pushing her on a tree-swing at the park in the city where they lived, going for nature walks with her mother, playing under the large southern live oak at her kindergarten. How long had it been since she’d seen a tree that wasn’t choked to death by cold? Or a vine that wasn’t pushed up between the floor tiles?

Niall was saying something, gesturing frantically. Aisling drew herself back to the present, and followed where he was pointing. Her heart soared.

On the floor in front of them, underneath the globes, Niall had spread out a picnic blanket and several cushions. Aisling recognized them from the couch in the master-bedroom sitting area. Sparkling grape juice sat in a bucket of ice, along with two crystal glasses. On her grandmother’s best china set, there were delicate scones with jam and real whipped cream (where on earth had he gotten that?), and two small finger sandwiches stuffed with cucumber slices. Much more sensible portions. Niall was learning.

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed.

“I know it’s not a beach, but that’s a bit difficult, even in this house. I was gonna bring you breakfast in bed again, but I couldn’t deal with any more complaining about the crumbs,” Niall said, dropping to his knees. He reached up a hand and pulled her down beside him.

“I love the globes.”

“Yeah,” he grinned. “I didn’t mak them. They were already strung in the trees, can you believe it?”

“I believe anything in this house.”

Did the house create them, or did Niall?

Aisling picked up one of the scones, holding the treat in her hand. She couldn’t believe he’d made this, all of this.

“Where did you get the cream?”

Niall pointed to his wristband, where the blinking number displaying his atern had dropped several points. Aisling’s chest tightened. He spent that much on her? “Fae have magical abilities, too, don’t forget. It took a whole gallon of milk to make that much, but I eventually figured it out.”

She laughed, her body feeling light. The blade in her pocket dug against her ass. She wished she could remove it, but she didn’t want to explain to Niall that she had mistrusted him. Not when he’d done all this for her.

No one has ever done something like this for me, ever.

Aisling bit into her scone. Oh, it was amazing. The light, fluffy cake was cooked to perfection, and the sweet jam and cream sung on her tastebuds.

I can’t believe he did this for me. I can’t believe he cares so much.

“You have some cream on your lip.” Niall set down his sandwich, and leaned toward her. “Here.”

The world stood still. Aisling’s lips parted, ever so slightly. The energy around them rose in a crescendo, pulsing against her skin. Her eyes locked on Niall as he leaned closer. His finger brushed the corner of her lip, and then, time seemed to skip a beat, and his lips were on hers, hot and fierce.

This time, she didn’t pull away.

This kiss wasn’t tender and sweet. It was a kiss of hunger, of desires long held in check and now pouring forth without restraint. Aisling returned the kiss in kind, sinking into the heat of him, aware of her skin burning as the energy sizzled between them. Niall’s hands wrapped around her, mashing her body against his, as if the air between them was somehow offensive to him.

He pushed her back, so she rested against the trunk of a tree. His hands explored her body, his touch laying trails of fire over her skin. Her tongue explored his mouth, seeking to discern every corner. Is this what kissing is like? Her fuzzy mind managed to express the thought. The romance books didn’t lie. This is incredible.

Niall grabbed the edges of her shirt, and tried to tug it upward. Despite the thrumming of the energy against her skin, the motion cut through her haze. She mashed her elbows against her body, stopping him.

“Niall,” she spoke against his lips, “I’m scared of this.”

“It’s okay. I’m scared, too.”

“Really?”

He laughed a little, deep in his throat. “Mostly, I just want to be as close to your gorgeous body as I can. But yes, I’m scared. I’m scared that I’ll mess things up and you’ll hate me.”

“That won’t happen.”

“If you say so.”

“I’ve never done this—”

“I know,” he murmured against her, his hands skimming her hips, caressing her curves in a way that made her heart leap against her chest. “I’ve never exactly done this either. Not with a witch, in the middle of an enchanted bathroom forest. Do you want me to stop?”

“I … I don’t know.” No, her body screamed. Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.

He sat back a little, his icy eyes regarding her. “Do you trust me?”

“I shouldn’t trust you. You’re fae.”

“I didn’t ask if you should trust me. I asked if you do. In this house, we’re no longer fae and witch. We’re just Aisling and Niall, and right now,” he grinned wickedly, “all Niall wants to do is tear off Aisling’s clothes and lick her all over until she begs for mercy.”

Aisling’s body shuddered. “Okay,” she said, her voice trembling as much from excitement as from nerves.

“All I get is an ‘okay’?” Niall’s lips brushed against hers again. “Where’s the enthusiasm?”

“I don’t know how to do this,” she said. “It’s different from the books.”

“Well, what do they say in the books?”

Aisling thought for a moment, but only one line – a ridiculous one, from a trashy romance Bethany had loved – came to mind. “Please, take me in a manly fashion?”

“If you insist.” Niall pressed his lips against hers, and the fire within lit her up. She rose up to meet him, cupping his face in her hands. She pulled his shirt over his head and ran her fingers over his body, satisfying her urge to explore the curve of his shoulders, the tension in his muscles, that tautness of his chest and abs. Her hand skimmed the waistband of his trousers, and his whole body shuddered with desire.

“I want you so bad, Aisling,” Niall murmured against her lips. His hands found the hem of her shirt again. This time, she didn’t stop him as he lifted it over her head and flung it aside. He reached behind her, and unclasped the ill-fitting bra she’d stolen from her mother’s old room.

Aisling sucked in a breath as Niall’s hands explored her breasts. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, as he bent his head down and took a nipple in his mouth. AIsling gasped as his tongue slid over her sensitive skin. He had the lightest touch, like a feather. His fingers burned as they stroked her body, and a fountain of need welled up inside of her.

“Niall …” she whimpered, tangling his fingers in his hair, watching him as he teased her nipple with his tongue, swirling around the sensitive bud, before running his teeth along the edges. The sharp pain delighted her, and the need inside her swelled.

But Niall wasn’t going to give her what she wanted so easily. He moved his mouth to the other nipple, and gave that one the same treatment. Aisling moaned as the tip hardened in his mouth.

Niall’s hands slid down her body, fiddling with the button on her jeans. The well inside of her had turned into a desperate ache. She didn’t know what would satisfy it, but she knew that Niall knew, and that any moment now he was going to give it to her.

Niall unbuttoned her jeans, and slid his hands along her hips. Almost without thinking, Aisling lifted herself off the ground, and he slid her jeans over her hips, pulling them down her legs. As he did, the knife clattered from her pocket.

“What’s that?” Niall reached over to pick it up.

“No, don’t!” Aisling tried to grab his hand, but it was too late. Her face flushed. “I thought … I wasn’t sure where you were taking me, and I wanted to be able to defend myself—”

“Good.” Niall tossed the knife aside. “I wouldn’t trust me, either.” She started to apologize, but he covered her mouth in kisses.

“Lie back,” he cooed in her ear. His fingers tugged at her panties. Aisling obeyed, breathing in as he slid her underwear down over her hips. She was completely naked in front of him.

Her stomach tightened with nerves. She knew she wasn’t like the fae women Niall usually slept with. Fae women were beautiful, and experienced. They were schooled in erotic encounters as soon as they hit puberty, and they knew exactly what to do to please a man. Fae were supposed to find humans repulsive, according to her sister Bethany. That was why there weren’t human/fae children wandering around.

Did Niall find her repulsive? What did she even do to please him? She was too nervous to think.

Aisling gazed at his face, searching for the revulsion. All she saw there were his stony features softened by the lantern light, and his blue eyes dancing as they took in her body.

“Am I okay?” she asked, her stomach twisting. “Is this … pleasing?”

“Babe, you’re better than okay. You’re amazing.”

Niall leaned over her, and ran his fingers down the insides of her thighs. Gently, he pushed her legs apart, spreading her before him. Aisling felt so exposed, so unsure of what would happen next, how it all would feel. She’d never paid that much attention to sex in books, often skipping the scenes to get on with the plot. She didn’t want to dwell on what she thought she could never have, even though sometimes she ached so bad. Now, she frantically wished she’d paid more attention. There should be an instruction manual for this, in every single library.

As Niall continued to caress her thighs, he lowered her face between her legs. Before Aisling could move, he flicked his tongue over her sex, drawing it along her whole length, before circling it around a single tiny dot, from which the ache seemed to originate.

Aisling moaned, digging her fingers into his shoulders as his touch shuddered through her. Niall licked her again, slowly, languidly, building upon the ache inside her.

“You taste amazing,” he breathed against her.

“I—” Aisling tried to speak, but Niall’s tongue worked its magic on her, rendering her speechless. He licked her again, slowly, and then sucked that little dot up into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it until Aisling thought she might pass out from the sheer ecstasy of it.

She stopped worrying about pleasing him. She stopped thinking about what was going to happen. She stopped thinking, full stop.

Niall started to work his tongue faster, flicking it over that spot again and again. Aisling’s veins thrummed with energy, her blood heated to boiling point. All rational thought passed from her mind, all of her doubts about Niall and her nervousness and her fear. All that remained was the growing ache inside her, the ache that was spreading through her limbs and surrounding her brain.

As he continued to lick her with a furious rhythm, Niall pushed a finger just inside of her. Aisling tossed her head back as the ache in her belly burned through her veins. A wave of pleasure erupted from her sex and thundered through her body, jerking her limbs and snapping her thighs against Niall’s face. Stars danced across her vision, the forest around her becoming a supernova, the birth of a new world all happening inside her veins.

The pleasure coursed through her, pounding her body. It dulled into a strange, pleasing ache, and she regained the ability to move of her own accord. Smiling, Niall crawled up alongside her, wrapping her in his arms. Aisling rested her back against his chest, enjoying the warmth coursing through her, the way the energy swirled around them both, wrapping them in an invisible cocoon. She’d never felt so good, or so safe, in her whole life.

“There will be plenty more of that,” he whispered in her ear. “If you’re good.”

“I’m always good.”

“That might be up for debate.” He grinned. “I told you being stuck in this house with me would bring residual benefits.”

Aisling smiled up at him. She couldn’t think of a witty reply, her brain had turned to mush.

“What happens now?” she asked.

“I think you know.” Niall prodded her thigh with his rigid member, and dared another of his wicked grins.

“Does it hurt?” she asked, her voice small. In books where there weren’t twenty-page sex scenes, it always hurt, and there was always blood.

“Sometimes it does,” Niall said, “but it’s a good kind of hurt. And I’ll be gentle. Are you ready?”

She nodded, rolling over onto her back. Niall steadied himself against the floor, kneeling over her. His eyes locked with hers. In them, Aisling saw herself reflected, all the trust, all the desperation for someone to care, to understand. He grinned, and she grinned back.

Niall slid himself inside her, just the tip. He waited, watching Aisling’s face. “How does that feel?”

She nodded again, not finding the words to describe the sensation.

Niall pushed in further. Aisling let out her breath. An incredible sensation of fullness consumed her. A warm, delicious feeling spread through her whole body.

“Is there any pain?” Niall asked her.

“Not really. Keep going.”

Niall kissed her, his lips tender. With one final push, he was inside her, his hardness completely filling her. Aisling couldn’t believe he’d managed to fit, and that it felt so good. There was a little pain, a tight feeling as her body got used to his size. But it was not unpleasant. He started to move against her, slowly, stroking his shaft in and out. It felt so, so good.

Aisling lifted her knees, angling her body so he could drive in deeper. The ache in her stomach returned, fiercer than before. She gripped Niall’s shoulders, enjoying the way his muscles moved beneath his skin as he held himself above her. He thrust deeper, every stroke a delight.

His lips sought hers, his kisses frenzied, building to a crescendo. Around them, the energy swirled, burning through their skin, wrapping them in the threads of their destiny. This is what I wanted all along, she realized, thinking of the ache she felt whenever she’d met her dream boy on the beach. This is what I was begging him for, all those nights, all that time.

I can’t believe this is real. I can’t believe Niall is real. He’s perfect.

The ache spread through her again, growing out from her stomach, shuddering through her limbs. Aisling’s mind exploded with color, and the entire universe – stars and galaxies and nebulae danced across her vision, twinkling between the foliage above her head. The whole world a beautiful, luminous light that emanated from her body.

Niall’s mouth closed over her collarbone, and his teeth dug into her skin. He came with a shudder, his member hardening inside her. After two final, violent thrusts, he collapsed on top of her, his usual boundless energy completely spent.

They remained like that for several moments. The galaxy on Aisling’s eyelids faded from her vision, and she could once again make out the towering forest around her, the bobbing globes, the forgotten food spread across the picnic blanket, and the fae boy who lay on top of her, his usually hard face slack and content.

Niall rolled off her and gathered her up in his arms again. “Let’s stay like this for awhile,” he whispered in her ear. She nodded, afraid that if she spoke, she would wake up, and all of this would have just been another of her dreams.

He’s my dream boy, and he’s perfect. He’s mine.

Aisling stared up at the twisting vines entwining the ceiling of this mysterious room. In her prison, she had discovered the last thing she’d ever expected: she’d found love.

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