The Fae's Fire (BBW, Paranormal Erotic Short Story) Read Free

rosebud, almost too feminine but balanced by his more masculine features. High cheekbones curved up to those slightly slanted entrancing eyes. He wore a simple green t-shirt and jeans. His feet, like mine, were bare in the warm grass.
    He slid into the grass next to me, each movement fluid. My eyes dropped to his exposed forearms, the muscles rippling slightly beneath his pale and flawless skin. My God, who knew Ireland had boys like this. If I had known this I would have petitioned for Nana to have custody of me ages ago.
    “You’re not from here.” There was no question in his voice; his accent was prominent but slightly different from the cheerful cadence of the locals. “And yet I see your father in your face and I have known him.”
    I giggled like a schoolgirl ; I felt like a moron. I’ve always prided myself on my smarts and the confident way I was able to negotiate sexual politics but this man reverted me back to my awkward high school self, the Moira who would turn bright red and inspect her shoes if a boy were ever brave enough to offer her a compliment or even a hello.
    “I’m not from here, no. But you’ve never met my father unless you’ve ever been over to Millville, NJ, possibly for a bingo night at the VA hall. He grew up in Staten Island. But I am from here, kind of. I mean I’ve never actually been here, you know. To Ireland once before but this is my first time to Loughsidhe. My mom was born in Dublin. My grandmother though, oh my Nana Moira, she was born here, ages ago though. You’re too young to have known her. Moira Dwyer. That’s my name too. Moira. She’s dead.” 
    I’m sure my cheeks had turned an alarming shade of red as I finished my rambling monologue because I could feel them burning in my face. The young man only continued to look at me, his head cocked slightly to the side and a kindly expression in his eyes. My eyes were fixed on the ground where my hands were nervously plucking and tearing the grass stems. Every once in a while I caught a glimpse of him through my lashes and wondered how old he was exactly. Certainly no older than thirty, but he carried himself with the assurance of an older man. Those eyes, those silver pools were ageless.
    “I knew a girl named Moira Dwyer but it has been many years since she has visited my shores. She came one year with her schoolmates after the Belfires had gone out and May Day was upon us. It’s a tradition here,” he added offhandedly. “Girls who sleep by my lough on the night before May Day will dream of their future loves.”
    “That’s nice.” God, I am such an idiot. Think of something to say. Anything to keep the conversation going. I could spend all night looking at this man and it would fuel my fantasies for the rest of my life. “You said your lough, your lake. Does your family own this place?” I felt slightly more confident as I noted the way he was inspecting my exposed legs.
    “No, not own. We look after it in a way. Protect it. Guard it from harm, Moira. And guard those who find their way to its shores.” His eyes locked with mine and while I wasn’t strong enough yet to maintain that gaze, I managed to smile more confidently than before as I ran a hand over the generous swell of my hip. His eyes shifted to follow its course.
    Seeing that such a beautiful man was taken by my body was a heady aphrodisiac. All of my self-doubt and shyness melted away. I lay back against the grass and arched my back invitingly. My breasts pressed revealingly forward.
    “Protection, huh? I could use some protection tonight. I was warned in town about randy leprechauns that may take advantage of a girl like me.”
    He laughed, the sound was silvery like everything else that night. “You shouldn’t believe everything you hear. The sidhe would never take something they were not invited to take.”
    In another of those eerie, liquid movements, he was lying beside me, over top of me supported on his arms.
    “I do see the Dwyer blood