Chapter Three

You Can’t Talk to Royalty Like That…

Crossbody

This was my favourite time to run. When everyone else was gone and the room was quiet and empty, I could just clear my mind of all the thoughts that constantly churned in it, the worries that had plagued me for the last six years.

What if I’ve made a mistake?

Should I have just stayed in Otherworld and got married?

Am I deluding myself that I’ll forge my own life here?

Why don’t I feel fulfilled?

The only other time I could quiet those thoughts was when I was performing in the ring. Those moments were when I felt truly present in my own life. The physical exertion and orchestrated aggression, the bright lights and heat, the roar of the crowd.

The latter was perhaps what I loved the most. Not simply because I revelled in the attention, but because it felt earned. I worked hard for their adoration, and I was doing it my own way. It wasn’t the same as the Otherworld fae who simpered and fawned over me simply because I was my mother’s son. The fans loved me for me , not because of my royal title. It was real. And it came without expectations aside from performing well and being entertaining enough. It came without all the court politics and underhanded dealings and bitter rivalry with my brothers.

The rivalries with my fellow wrestlers were merely scripted. They weren’t real. They were safe.

Well, except for Vince.

He was ruining everything.

As if he had been summoned by the thought, I heard the door to the main room swing open and whipped my head around in surprise. I’d thought everyone was gone, but there he was—the last person I ever wanted to see.

My lip curled as I faced forward again. I was just going to ignore him. It would be easy, and it was what I was supposed to do anyway.

Not that anyone was around to know if we did talk.

But no. I would adhere to Corey’s ruling. It wasn’t like I wanted to talk to Vince. I despised him. Conversations with him offered nothing of value, even when they didn’t turn into a snarling match between us.

A part of me was curious about why he was still here, though. Of all the Goliaths, Vince was the least likely to stay later than necessary. To actually put more than the bare minimum amount of effort into his work.

It infuriated me that his performances were always so flawless despite that fact. That the crowd adored him and his ridiculous antics in the ring.

Those fucking roller skates. Such a pathetic gimmick.

I didn’t need a gimmick. My mere presence was enough to whip the audience into a frenzy.

Well, that and my abs.

And my ass.

When I saw movement out of the corner of my eye, my gaze shifted back toward him. He was carrying several filthy beakers and plates over to the sink. His hair was damp and slicked back, and he was only wearing a towel slung low on his hips.

I huffed in derision before I could stop myself. He always walked around in a fucking towel. Did he not even possess the basic etiquette to dress appropriately in the workplace?

His jaw was clenched, a muscle in it ticking. Wicked satisfaction made my lips curl into a little smirk. He probably hadn’t realised I was still here. He probably thought he’d won by spending so long on the treadmill earlier just so I wouldn’t be able to use it. I knew that was what he’d been doing. He’d even stayed on it, walking leisurely while chatting with Dan after he was done running. Just so I couldn’t.

Prick.

“What are you still doing here?” I heard myself say disdainfully, even though I knew I shouldn’t have been talking to him. My lip curled back into a sneer when he looked over and glared at me.

At first, I thought he was going to ignore me as he dumped his beakers in the sink and started running the hot water, but it seemed he couldn’t help himself either.

“Why do you care?” he muttered in a tight voice.

“I don’t,” I assured him immediately, turning away to stare at the wall.

I heard him snort. “Don’t worry, asshole. I have zero desire to hang around here with you.”

“Good.” I sniffed and tossed back my hair. “The feeling is mutual.”

“You’re not supposed to be talking to me, anyway.”

I could hear the smirk in his voice, and it made my teeth clench.

“You answered.” I side-eyed him in time to see him scowl at me.

“Yeah, well.” He paused in rinsing out the beakers. “In fact, while we’re here…”

My teeth clenched even harder. “What?”

“What you said about me during court was out of fucking line, Crossbody.”

An incredulous laugh scraped from my throat. “What I said about you ?”

“You called me a slacker.” Anger was tightening his rough voice. “And said I don’t take my job seriously.”

“You don’t,” I said bluntly.

“Yes, I fucking do,” he gritted out.

I laughed brashly, not bothering to answer as I tossed my hair back again and looked away to dismiss him. After a few seconds, I heard a plastic cup slam onto the counter.

“Yes, I fucking do,” he repeated testily. “Just because I don’t spend all my free time alone here running on the fucking treadmill doesn’t mean I don’t take my damn job seriously . Some of us have lives.”

I laughed again, even though my muscles tensed at his words. “If you think swaggering around in a towel and playing a fool is ‘taking your job seriously,’ I can’t help you.”

“I don’t want your fucking help,” he bit out, abandoning his beakers in the sink to stalk closer. “You think I’d take advice from you ? The arrogant jackass who clearly has nothing going for him outside of work?”

My jaw clenched, eyes burning a hole into the wall in front of me as I ran. “Need I remind you that I’m a fucking prince ?”

His laugh was rough and cutting. “Oh no, definitely don’t need reminding of that . You don’t let us fucking forget it.”

“I can’t help it if my work ethic surpasses yours, Vince,” I drawled, slowing the treadmill to a brisk walk so I could cool down. But as I reached for my towel to dab the sweat on my neck, I tripped and almost faceplanted the console.

Embarrassment swelled into fury as I gripped the bars and jabbed the button to turn the machine off. I shot Vince a scathing look, daring him to laugh at me. He smirked, crossing his arms over his bare chest.

“Your shoelace is untied.”

My jaw clenched hard. I stepped off the belt and glared at him, wishing I could give him one last sneer and sweep out of the room. But I knew that if I tripped in front of him again, he’d laugh at me.

Him , laughing at me.

No fucking way in the deepest parts of any and every hell that existed out there.

“I have a life,” I snarled, his earlier words still rankling me. Stoking my anger. “I just take my job seriously as well. Unlike you .”

His face flushed with fury, hands clenching into fists. “For the last fucking time, I take my fucking job seriously.”

I let out a mocking laugh and knelt to tie my shoelace. “You’re a joke.”

There was a moment of silence before I heard Vince striding closer, his bare feet slapping against the floor.

“Fuck you, Crossbody.”

His feet appeared in front of me in a wide stance, narrow and bony and that sickly grey shade, his nails dark and discoloured. I clenched my jaw, refusing to look up at him as I hurried to tie my laces faster so I was no longer kneeling.

“Why don’t you suck my fucking dick while you’re down there, asshole,” he continued, a condescending sneer in his voice. “You think you’re so much better than the rest of us. Guess what—you’re not. You might be a big, special boy back in Otherworld, but here you’re just one of thousands of fae, one of tens of thousands of supernaturals, and let me tell you a secret—none of us give a flying fuck how important you think you are. Because you’re not.”

My blood was boiling, the fury pulsing in my veins making my hands tremble. My vision went cloudy with rage, my teeth clenched so hard I thought they would crack, and before I knew what I was doing, my hand had shot up to grab the edge of that fucking towel and aggressively yank it from his hips.

I didn’t really know why. I just wanted to make him feel small. Embarrass him. Put him on the backfoot. I’d assumed he would stumble back and hide himself, spluttering with humiliation before racing from the room.

I was wrong.

Vince just stood there, frozen in shock. Then he barked out a rough, patronising laugh and placed his hands on his hips.

“I didn’t mean it literally.” There was a smirk in his voice, which made my nostrils flare with fury and my head snap up to scowl at him.

But to my utter mortification, my gaze got stuck midway.

Even though he always walked around in a towel, I’d never actually seen Vince’s cock before. It was the same sickly grey shade as the rest of him, the head hidden by his foreskin. There was a patch of neatly trimmed blackish-grey hair at its base.

For some reason, I couldn’t tear my eyes away. I told myself it was the shock of seeing my co-worker’s genitals and nothing more. But tendrils of… something were creeping through my belly. Descending lower.

I was still staring at it when Vince let out a mean little chuckle, not in the least bit ashamed to be so exposed as he stood there with his hands on his narrow hips.

“You’re looking at my dick like you really do want to suck it.” There was an infuriating smugness in his voice. “You a cockslut, Crossbody?”

A burst of unexpected arousal shot into my balls, making my prick tingle.

“Maybe you should,” Vince continued. His own cock twitched, and I realised my breaths had shallowed as I watched it slowly start to fill. “Maybe choking on my dick will take you down a peg or two.”

His cock was thickening, lengthening, rising to bob in front of his stomach, the head now peeking out from his foreskin, smooth and flushed. My gaze locked onto the tiny slit at the tip.

Vince was breathing faster as his fingers twitched on his hips, and still he didn’t move. Neither did I. I should have straightened, sneered down at him—I was much taller—and walked away. I should have left him standing there with an erection, naked and hard in the middle of the room like an utter fool.

“Maybe if I fucked your slut throat, you’d stop walking around like you fucking own the place.”

I pursed my lips to hold back a humiliating whimper as my scalp tingled and my cock lurched in my shorts. He… he couldn’t talk to me like that. I was a prince . I was royalty.

He needed to stop talking to me like that.

My breaths were rasping out of me, limbs locked in place as I knelt at his feet, my shoelace forgotten. I couldn’t move.

Vince barked out another laugh. “Fuck. Look at you—you’re hard . You want to, don’t you? You actually want to do it. You are a dirty little cockslut.”

Humiliation made my face burn. I refused to look down at the erection straining in my shorts, pulling the thin fabric taut. His words only made it grow harder.

“Do it then.” His voice was deeper, rougher, and I could hear the smirk in it. “Suck my dick, your highness .”

A part of me knew he was just taunting me. That he didn’t actually expect me to, or even want me to. This was all just a game. A power play. A battle.

He was trying to make me feel small. Me, a royal fae. A prince.

No one had ever dared speak to me like that before. It was unacceptable. It was beyond disrespectful. It was humiliating.

It was making me so hard that I couldn’t think clearly, arousal clouding my head.

My hands were trembling as I gripped his thighs and leaned in to suck his cock into my mouth.

Vince jolted, choking on a breath as his hands jerked off his hips in shock. I expected him to shove me away, perhaps shout at me in fury or laugh at me for actually doing it. The muscles in his thighs twitched under my hands as I tightened my lips around him and started bobbing my head, sucking desperately, pleading with myself to not make a sound while I did this.

I didn’t even know why I was doing it.

Then Vince’s long fingers threaded through my hair and gripped painfully tight, and my eyelashes fluttered as sharp bites of pleasure-pain raced over my scalp.

“So High Lord Crossbody is a filthy little cockslut.” He sneered my name, then let out a mocking laugh, breathing hard. “You can’t fucking stand me, but you’re still on your knees sucking my dick like you’re desperate for my cum. Wow. That’s kind of pathetic.”

A shudder raced through my limbs, a hoarse sound leaving me before I could stop it. I took a deep breath and slid my mouth lower, until his cockhead plugged my throat and my nose was pressed to that little thatch of hair at the base.

Vince grunted, hips jerking as his fingers tightened in my hair. His voice was a gravelly snarl when he panted out, “You’re just a hole that needs to be filled, aren’t you? Nothing but a needy. Slutty. Pathetic hole.” He held my head in place and punctuated each word with a thrust of his cock into my throat, making me let out a garbled, gagging moan.

I tried to tell myself that I was simply beating him at his own game. That I was doing it because he hadn’t really expected me to, so now I had the upper hand.

But it was clearly a lie.

“Shit,” he panted unsteadily, his thighs starting to tremble under my hands as he fucked my throat. My cheeks were wet with tears, eyes streaming. My chin was coated in spit. My eyes kept threatening to roll back as I stayed obediently still and let him use me as nothing more than a hole for his hard cock to fuck.

Nothing but a needy, slutty, pathetic hole.

My prick was throbbing in my shorts, stretching the fabric to its limit. When he pulled back to let me suck in a breath, heat rushed to my face as I heard myself whimper, letting out a plaintive mewl as I wound my tongue desperately around his cockhead. I lapped at the tip, trying to catch every drop of pre-cum, and found my eyes lifting to meet his with a silent plea.

Vince was staring down at me in shock, his unfathomably dark eyes wide and features tight with pleasure. That long tongue darted out to wet his lips, making me shudder as he pulled my head back until only the tip of his cock was rubbing against my mouth.

I tried to lick it, but he yanked my head back less than gently with a rough laugh.

“You want it that bad, huh?” One hand left my hair to fist his cock, stroking it so the tip bumped my lower lip, but drawing it back every time my tongue darted out to catch it. “Say it.”

When I stayed silent, breathing fast, he released his cock and hooked his thumb over my teeth, pressing my jaw open wider. I let him.

“If you want it, say please, your highness.” He smirked down at me.

His thumb smoothed over my tongue, and another pathetic sound left me as I closed my lips around it to suck. His cock jerked in front of me, and he pulled his thumb free to roughly grab my chin.

“Say it.”

“P-please,” I heard myself whisper.

“Say you’re a needy little cockslut.”

Humiliation burned in my cheeks. Made my cock hard to the point of agony.

“I’m a needy little cockslut,” I whispered, my prick gushing pre-cum into my shorts, my balls drawn up painfully tight at the base.

“Say, ‘Please give me your cock, Vince. I need it.’”

“P-please give me your cock, Vince.” My fingers flexed on his thighs as I stared at that flushed grey length just out of reach. A droplet of pre-cum was clinging to the tip, and my insides ached with the desperation to lick it up. Barely audible, I whispered, “I need it.”

He laughed and shoved his cock back into my throat, fisting my hair so hard it felt like he was going to rip handfuls free.

All the tension drained from my body in an instant. I went loose, my hands sliding off his thighs to rest limply on mine. Loud, gagging moans tightened my throat around every thrust of his cock, the retching sounds echoing through the empty room.

When he started to shake, he pulled back to glide his cock languidly over my tongue, letting me inhale a trembling breath.

He roughly jostled my head, making me whimper. “Suck it.”

I closed my lips around him tightly and sucked, a ragged moan reverberating in my chest. He tasted clean and his cock was surprisingly hot, given how cool he ran.

“You want my cum, don’t you?” His voice was an unsteady snarl, hips jerking to fuck my mouth. “You’re dying for it.”

“Mmm.” My brows pinched in desperation, hands twitching on my thighs.

I want it.

“Yeah, well, you don’t deserve it.” He started thrusting into my mouth faster, breaths sawing out of him. “You haven’t earned it. Maybe suck my dick a bit better next time, and I’ll let you have it.”

He said it even as his hips’ movements grew jerky, thighs quaking, and a tight groan left him before he abruptly yanked his cock free and fisted it. I kept my mouth open and stuck my tongue out, waiting for him to fill me again. I was nothing but a needy hole, a vessel for his release.

Vince groaned, stroking his cock furiously as his other hand clenched my hair tighter, holding me in place. “Why don’t I come all over that arrogant fucking face instead?”

“Please,” I whispered. It was better than nothing. My hands shot out to grasp his tense calves in a submissive gesture that shocked me, but I was too desperate to ponder it.

He grabbed the sensitive pointed tip of my ear roughly, making me shudder with pleasure, and aggressively held me still as his fist stuttered on his cock.

With a ragged shout, he came all over my face. A stripe of cum landed on my tongue, and my throat tingled with the need to swallow it, but I kept my mouth open in the hopes of catching even more. It coated my nose and cheek, dripped from my eyebrow and ran down to mingle with the spit on my chin.

Vince’s panting breaths echoed around the room as he slowed his trembling fist and squeezed the base of his cock. After a few seconds, he released the death grip on my ear, making me wince, and took an unsteady step back.

I finally closed my mouth and swallowed the cum on my tongue, my eyes wanting to roll back as my cock jerked with a gush of pre-cum. I wanted more. My hand shaking, I lifted it to my face and collected the cum on my cheek so I could suck it greedily off my fingers.

“Fuck,” Vince panted, then swallowed. “Uh… shit.”

When I realised in a sickening rush that he was no longer feeling the same mindless desperation that still racked me, I stiffened and yanked my fingers out of my mouth, the blood draining from my face.

I couldn’t look at him. I stared in horror at his slowly softening cock while his cum cooled on my face.

“Um…” Vince leaned down to grab his towel, his legs looking unsteady, and wrapped it back around his hips. “Crossbody…”

“Fuck off,” I blurted, unpleasant shivers prickling over my skin, even as my cock continued to throb in my shorts.

He froze in the middle of knotting his towel. “What?”

“Fuck off, Vince,” I gritted out, a different and unpleasant kind of humiliation flooding every inch of my tense body. I wanted to stand up and walk away, but I couldn’t move. It was like my knees were locked to the hard ground.

“I’m—I—” Guilt bled into his hoarse voice. “I was pretty rough with you. Let me—”

When I saw a pale grey hand reaching for me, I flinched and barked, “Don’t touch me,” even though my body was still yearning for… something.

But not from him. No. Just because he’d fucked my throat, that didn’t mean I wanted anything from him. I certainly didn’t need anything from him.

I hated him.

I hated him even more now.

His fucking cum was on my face. My jaw was sore, and my tongue felt numb, and my throat ached when I swallowed.

“Just fuck off,” I barked when he didn’t move, his hand hovering uncertainly in the air.

He stiffened and pulled it back, gripping his towel. “Look, I get that we don’t—”

“Just leave me alone,” I shouted, my voice almost cracking. “Why the fuck are you still here? Just fuck off, Burke.”

After a few long seconds of silence, he huffed and turned away. “Still a fucking asshole.”

“Fuck you,” I snarled, still trembling like a leaf, my cock still achingly hard in my shorts.

I was still kneeling there, long minutes later, when I heard him leave his dressing room, slamming the door forcefully before his footsteps grew fainter as they echoed down the corridor.