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flowers of every type and hue.
Kneeling once more, Ryllio laid her gently down amongst the blooms and unclasped her cloak from
around her neck. As his fingers found the first button of her overdress, he hesitated, bending closer to
whisper, I want to see you, touch you, kiss you everywhere, but we have company.
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Anya Richards
Myrina turned her head to where he gestured, saw the red buck and white doe in the shadow of the
trees, silently watching. And she knew where they were, most likely so would Kestor be, always waiting
for a chance to spy upon them.
Looking up at Ryllio, feeling the still-urgent pulse of his flesh inside her, she felt a flush of renewed
desire burn through her veins. There was no hint of fear or shame when she imagined the king and queen of
the faeries, or Kestor, watching Ryllio and her together. In fact it made the moment sweeter, hotter even
more magical than it already was.
Brushing his hands aside, she unbuttoned her bodice herself and, shrugging it off, murmured, It
seems only fair, considering you spied upon them. Besides, I care not if the entire world of Faery wants to
watch. All I need right now is you.
Ryllio made a sound, half-laugh, half-groan. What happened to the shy maid I once saw blushing as
she touched herself before me?
Myrina looked deep into his twinkling eyes and, smiling, replied, You awoke her passion and
changed her blushes of embarrassment to those of desire. Is that not a good thing?
A very, very good thing indeed, he replied, kissing her lips and setting himself back to the task of
undressing her.
There in the light of dawn, surrounded by the scent of flowers, she lay supine beneath Ryllio s tender,
thorough exploration of her body, absorbing each breath and sigh and sound of pleasure into her overly
sensitive skin. Although she could no longer hear him in her mind, the connection between them was as
strong and sure as ever before. Shifting, flowing beneath his hands and lips, Myrina knew instinctively his
yearning to simply touch and kiss her, to bring her pleasure over and over again.
Fantasy became reality, and Myrina closed her eyes against the almost painful glory of his lips against
her breasts and belly, the swirl of his tongue around her navel, sliding down, parting her quim. His groan of
bliss rushed across and into her flesh, and she looked along her body, meeting his fever-bright gaze. The
look in his eyes, the love and passion, unravelled the last of her control, and she reached for him, threading
her fingers into the dark, silken hair, lifting her hips as she pulled him closer.
Open-mouthed, he kissed her slick flesh, the flicking and lashing of his tongue making her cry out his
name as she strained and arched and quaked. Wider she spread herself for him, and wider yet, inviting,
demanding, drowning in the fervent intimacy.
When she could no longer bear not to touch him a moment more, he came to her, surrendering his
body even though the desperation of his desire sent tiny shivers of need through his muscles to ripple
across his skin.
Later, she decided, would be soon enough to touch, tease and tantalize Ryllio the way he had so
lovingly tormented her. But now he needed her, needed the release he seemed determined to deny. Urging
him into the cradle of her thighs, she took him deep, lifting her head to press drugging kisses on his lips.
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Awaken
Myrina, he whispered, his strong arms trembling with the force of his passion. Myrina, I am yours,
now and forever.
It was a pledge, a promise, a love-spell. The quiet vow of days and nights to come an incantation to
cling to, no matter what the future held.
Overcome by too much emotion to reply, she held the echo of his words dear, knowing them to be
part of the strongest magic here or beyond the veil and needing nothing more.
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And What Happened Next?
All faery tales end with And They Lived Happily Ever After , but that is because the Fey,
whispering into authors ears, usually grow bored once the magic ceases being part of the story. Never
much given to mundane considerations, they care not what happens after the spell is lifted. If asked, How
did Red Riding Hood explain the talking wolf? or How come Cinderella wasn t accused of stealing the
dress and shoes? they tend to shrug and disappear. Or threaten the questioner with gruesome retribution
for being, well, so nosy.
So usually there is no answer to the eternal cry, And what happened next? except what we find in
our own imagination. However, in the case of Myrina and her prince, it could be said the lingering
enchantment was strong enough to hold the interest of one particular faery. This is what I heard, under the
light of a red harvest moon, of their life thereafter.
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