What the fuck happened?! She went from 0-100 back to 0 in a few minutes.

I can see the upsetting memories she has of me in her minds eye and negative hear the nagging little negative thoughts she has floating around her head.

She thinks I'm taking her for an emotional roller coaster ride?! Damn faeries always being so dramatic. If they aren't living on rainbows and sunshine it's gloomy and dark.

I want to tell her everything. Why she is feeling like she's falling down a dark well. Why I'm to bloody scared to admit I might have a second mate...or maybe she is my only mate and those happy years of my life were a sham.

But her non-stop inner monologue continues down the depressing rabbit hole to a very scary place. Suicide.

I may not have a soul but I was raised to believe that committing suicide was a sin that got ya sent straight to hell, no chance of redemption.

I've been so scared of her and what being mated to me would mean for her and her soul that I allowed her to give up on her own.

Really quick too.

I hadn't been with a woman in awhile but I know what an orgasm looks like. This ain't it.

It's dark, she's unmarked which is dangerous in our realm, and she's so emotional that even my touch isn't registering with her. Her skin lights up. I see the magic sparkles sprinkling off of every touch, making beautiful designs on her flesh, like a golden tattoo that only lasts a few seconds.

I fucked up. Fiona was right. Rian might have a connection to her or maybe just a mutual feeling of lust but she's mine.

I carry her back to my room and lay her down on my bed. Her knees are all fucked up from kneeling on the ground for so long with nothing but spandex material between.

Such a tiny, fragile, naive little lamb. She faints easily which must be a product of her being a human. A default in this work of pure perfection.

She loved the bathroom...she loved my bathroom...I should draw her a warm bath for when she wakes up.

I place a wool blanket over her while I go about cleaning up my room. I had thrown a box containing items that reminded me of Maggie. My love of life died with her and here I have a second chance - I had to take it. I don't know how two of the most amazing women I've ever loved are related to Kathy. Picking up the pieces, I put it all away. Although I was tempted to throw it into the fire I started.

The last of the broken pieces of wood thrown into the fire crackle and pop, waking her up from her dreamless sleep.

Time to court my mate.

———————————————

It sounds like a gun has gone off and I smell fire.

Jolting awake I'm aware I'm in Oisin's room. Looking down I realize I'm just in my sports bra and yoga leggings. Where's the tank top?

...oh no.

It floods back to me and I remember my brilliant idea, which doesn't sound so brilliant after that nice nap under this warm, but itchy blanket.

Oisin comes out of the bathroom with a weird look on his face. Fear? Concern? Sadness?

He takes the blanket off of me and folds it up putting it back on the end of the bed and without saying a word he lifts me up, cradling me to his chest. What I imagined fairy dust to look like as a child is illuminating my skin and floating into the air, leaving temporary beautiful symbols behind.

I gasp as I see the candles all lit and the bathtub full of water with leaves and flower petals floating in it.

"May I?" Oisin sits me on the side of the bathtub and motions to my feet.

I nod. He's seen me naked. His fingers as cold as he pulls my sock off one by one and then slips my leggings down which hurt when he gets to the knees, like ripping off a bandaid.

"This really is a second skin. You need more to protect you." He leans over to get a bottle of clear liquid. "Some alcohol to clean your wounds."

"And to drink?"

He breaths out like he's been holding his breath. "Good to see you've returned."

"From insanity? Barely." I tens as he dabs the alcohol soaked towel to my wounded knees. How long was I out there?

"You know what you did back there used to be a form of punishment. I've heard stories about children having to knee on grains of rice or pebbles or just the bare floor for their sins or whatever nonsense some adult deemed worth to hurt them. After only a few minutes it can cause pain, but after a while your skin takes shape around it or breaks, leaving dimples and small cuts behind. I've never seen someone actually do it, and as much as I love the idea of you being submissive to me, I never want to see that again." His eyes met mine as he wiped the last bit of blood alcohol over my skin. "Please. Never again."

My heart felt like it was about to leap from my chest.

"Arms up...if you feel comfortable Evelyn. This bath is for you to enjoy so..."

Him being uncomfortable was cute. I almost smiled as I lifted my arms straight above my head.

Sports bras aren't super sexy to put on or take off. Oisin cursed under his breath trying to get it over my bust without touching my chest.

His gently lifts me up and puts me in the soaking tub. Climbing in, he keeps his pants on and just lowers me in slowly, cradling my head with his hand. Heat, steam, warmth...so comfortable.

"I love this tub. It's more of a small pool in size and apparently it needs to be cleaned." I laughed lifting petals and leaves in my hand.

"It's broth. I make a mean human stew....just kidding. These are all healing herbs, flowers, and oils. You being half faerie, I thought you'd like nature added to your bath."

As I touched things he told me what they were and their healing properties.

After awhile he let me go and stepped out. I tried not to whimper from the loss of touch. He moved methodically setting up a large porcelain bowl with hot water from the sink. He sat it down next to the tub and went somewhere in the far regions of his massive en suite bathroom coming back with more fluffy white towels and little bottles or soaps and moisturizer. Maybe even potions.

I couldn't help but notice his wet pants were gone, replaced by a low hanging towel. I've gone from horny to terrified to embarrassed to suicidal to serene today. But his defined V and his abdominals are teasing me. I'm surprised he hasn't laughed at me. He reads my mind often but doesn't seem to mind being thought of as sex on a stick. Biting my lower lip I have to hold back letting my hand wonder and release the beast while he gathers everything to wash my face and the rest of my body.

The silence was almost like a song. How can that be? His gentle touch, the sound of a towel dipped in water and rinsed out, the sloshing of the water in the tub as he rinsed me off with a detachable hose. The laughter in the room when we both looked at each other remembering that time in the shower with his very powerful, detachable, shower head.

Silence. How can silence be music? And our movements felt very much like a dance. He led and I trusted him the entire time.

Intimacy. Into me you see. I felt vulnerable; completely exposed as he dried off my hair to my toes with heated fluffy white towels.

That's when I first caught the scent of arousal. For him it was a musk with spices and cedar or pine. Mine own smelled very sweet.