Quicksilver (Fae & Alchemy, #1)

by Callie Hart

“Kingfisher.”

Very excited to meet this character ive heard so much about!

The scent of him washed over my senses, overcoming me, undoing me. Mint. Smoke.

KingFisher smells like...

I nipped and tugged at his bottom lip, sighing into his mouth, and the huge male went utterly still beneath me. “Careful,” he panted. “I swore I’d be still while you kissed me. At no point did I promise to exercise restraint if you climbed up into my lap and started grinding yourself against my cock.” I hadn’t—I wasn’t— Fuck. I had. I was. Without even realizing, I’d straddled him. My legs were wrapped low around his waist. His cock was rock hard, trapped between our bodies. I could feel it there, rubbing up against me, applying the most delicious pressure whenever I shifted my weight.

The start! Next to the forge... It's hot.

“I have fifteen thousand warriors, Little Osha.

I seen this coming! Enough...

“You asked for this. When you’re sore from coming so hard and you can’t recall your own name, remember that, Little Osha.”

She asked for it...

“Don’t call her Sunshine,” he commanded. “Why not?” If Carrion’s plan was to poke the bear, then he sure as hell knew how to go about it. But Kingfisher didn’t respond to the taunting note in his question. He just cocked his head a little, nostrils flaring, and spoke in a low rumble. “Because she is moonlight. The mist that shrouds the mountains. The bite of electricity in the air before a storm. The smoke that rolls across a battlefield before the killing starts. You have no idea what she is. What she could be. You should call her Majesty.”

Majesty to you Carrion.

Fisher’s hand was still underneath my shirt, but it had half-closed, relaxing in his sleep. The material I’d used to bind my chest had come loose and risen up in the night, and his knuckles were brushing the underside of my left breast. Very slowly but with obvious intent, Fisher opened his hand against my skin again, pressing his palm against my rib cage. I fastened my lip between my teeth, suddenly panicked, my heart rate kicking up as he ran the tips of his fingers along the underside of my breast, barely making contact at all… It was a question. Is this something you want?

HOT after Saeris taking care of him.

Fisher knelt on the floor, resting his forearms against the side of the copper tub. He watched me, his eyes so fierce that they stripped me even barer than I already was. It took ridiculous effort, but I lifted my hand out of the water just enough so that I could touch his hand. He didn’t pull away. Lifting his fingers an inch, he repositioned, adjusting. It was a micro-movement, really. Subtle, but with meaningful results: his fingertips were left resting on top of mine. We’d kissed, and licked, and fucked each other raw. He’d emptied himself inside me, roaring as he came, but this small, intentional contact between us was the most intimate we’d ever been. I marveled at the sight of our fingers touching, an array of emotions vying for my attention.

Intimacy <3

I woke to hands built for violence gently soaping my scalp. No one had ever washed my hair before. It was an experience I wanted again and again. But only from him. Only from Fisher.

getting your hair washed is so sensual!

“She’s been kicking ass, Brother. She wields Solace almost as well as your father did.”

Thanks Ren!

“The Oshellith hatch once in most Fae lifetimes. Up north, in the wastelands, far beyond Ajun Sky, where the dragons used to live. The air’s so cold there that it’ll freeze in your lungs if you breathe it in without a mask. No life exists there for long. But once in a thousand years, the howling winds drop, signaling the coming of the Oshellith. News of that event travels quickly. That’s when the bravest of our kind set out. They go on foot where no horse can go. When they reach the valley where the Oshellith hatch, they find the butterfly’s cocoons and they shield them with their bodies. They give them whatever heat they can, for as long as they can. It can take up to twelve hours for them to break out of those cocoons. But when they do…” Kingfisher swallowed, shaking his head. “It’s the most beautiful thing a person can experience in this lifetime. They glow blue and pink and silver, with an ethereal light. They have music, though no one knows how. A sweet, soft song that’s capable of healing. The Oshellith mate and lay their eggs, but once that’s done, they fill the air, and they dance. Protecting them while they live is considered a sacred rite that many die in order to perform. That’s what Oshellith means in Old Fae, Saeris. Most Sacred.” He closed his eyes for a moment, his expression pained. His breath came ragged and uneven. “All names hold power in this place. Every name means something. We have true names that we don’t share with anyone. Not our friends. Not our ...

Osha = most sacred

You’ve got me, Little Osha. And I’ve got you.

Love

“Nobody will ever fuck you the way I’m about to fuck you, Saeris Fane. I’m about to introduce you to all seven gods. When you meet them, don’t forget to tell them I’m the one you worship on your knees.”

There it is!

The mountain that weathers all storms,

Hmmmmmm

Light has darkness. Life has death. Joy has sorrow. And good has evil.

Paradoxes