Chapter 12

The door opens, throwing me out of the book I was reading and dumping me unceremoniously back into reality.

I blink up at Rhydian. He is brooding in the doorway again. He is good at it. And it does suit him.

I'm sprawled out on the chaise lounge again, in a position that probably looks bizarre and uncomfortable. I'm mostly on my back, holding the book above my face. I can almost hear one of my childhood teachers berating me for my inability to sit like a normal person.

But Rhydian doesn't berate me. He doesn't say anything at all. He simply strides in, and the door swings quietly shut behind him.

Pinky and her friends appear and start setting the table with dinner. My stomach rumbles and I sit up. The table is already set with a dizzying array of delicious looking food.

Rhydian takes a seat. I drift towards the other chair.

"No." His sharp voice stops me in my tracks.

Am I not allowed to eat? Please tell me that is not the case. Please. I'm starving. I didn't think he was this cruel and I haven't even done anything wrong. Not that I know of.

He gestures to his lap and my eyebrows rise. "You want me to sit on your lap?"

An impatient look crosses his face. My heart rate increases and my feet hurry over to him. He spreads his legs and creates a space on the chair. I slide in as gracefully as I can. His firm chest brushes against my back. I swallow, but he ignores me and piles his plate high with food instead.

"Eat," he orders.

Okay then. I reach forward and pick up an empty plate and start loading it. Rhydian is a tall bastard, so this is actually working surprisingly well. I fit in front of him just fine and we can both reach the food without jabbing each other with elbows.

The first bite of some type of roasted meat has me moaning softly in delight. Fey really can cook. It is a foodies paradise here.

We eat in relative silence, save for my occasional moans of appreciation. I don't know why I'm sitting in his lap, but whatever. It could be a fey thing I haven't been taught yet. Or one of Rhydian's kinks. I'm not sure I care. I'm playing along with being amiable and this is more than bearable.

"How is Dyfri?" he says.

Interesting. Does he actually care after all, or is he simply making small talk?

"He seems fine."

Rhydian huffs and reaches for a small bread roll. The sound and the gesture are very much conveying, ‘I told you so.'

"I'm sure he only seems fine because he is bottling everything up!" I snap.

"He is fey. And a prince," says Rhydian. "He has to."

It is my turn to huff as I reach for more food. Though I'm touched that Rhydian is confessing that he himself is an uptight, emotionless bastard. Even if he is pretending to be talking about his brother.

I chew thoughtfully on my food for a minute. If Rhydian is in a chatty mood, I need to take advantage of it. But I need to be clever. He is an asshole, but he is not stupid. He will know if I am blatantly fishing for information.

"If you are all princes," I say. "Where is the king?"

"Back in the fey realm."

"So he has put you in charge of Earth?"

I feel him shake his head. "Only Britain. Other fey courts have taken other countries."

This is stuff I already know from being glued to my television for the first few weeks of the invasion. But it is good that Rhydian is telling me himself. Unless he is only speaking it precisely because it is such common knowledge.

I take a deep breath and fight off a wave of despondency. He is talking to me. We are having a fairly normal conversation. This is progress.

"Why are we sitting like this?" I ask.

"Practice," he all but grunts.

Great, we are down to monosyllabic answers.

"Practice for what?" I say and damn do I sound far too forcefully cheerful.

"Banquets."

My stomach twists and coldness washes over me. "You are going to start showing me off?"

I knew it had to be coming. There is no other reason to take me because of who my father is, if not to brag and demonstrate the fact to those he wants to impress. But I was stupidly hoping for more time. Not that it will ever be something I will enjoy. All the time in the world won't change that. But I still wanted it to be a problem for future-me, not now-me.

"Yes," he says.

Fine. I give up. It is like trying to have a conversation with a brick wall.

Rhydian lifts up a jewel encrusted goblet and takes a sip. His free hand snakes down to my waist and pulls on something. I squeak as my robes fall open, exposing me to the evening air. And just like that, a rush of reaction floods my body and my mind. My heartbeat quickens. My mouth goes dry. My muscles start to tremble. But yet again, it is not all fear. A dark and twisted arousal is surging through me. I want him to do something to me. I am yearning for him to take charge of my body and fill me with pleasure.

Does this mean I'm sick and perverted? Or is it because I haven't been able to touch myself and all my pent up horniness is getting out of hand? It could be a bit of both, I suppose.

Rhydian's cold fingers trail across my naked chest. I shiver. My nipples pebble, but he ignores them. His hand traces lazily down. Skimming over my stomach and dipping down to my silk covered cock that is already half hard. His long fingers wrap around my length, and I gasp. His hand glides up and down and the feel of the soft silk moving over my cock is divine. I whine and throw back my head.

He starts stroking me in earnest, long, firm, rhythmic strokes. The magic bag covering me heats and tingles. A wet sensation blooms. I'm encased in wet, tight heat and Rhydian is pumping me exquisitely. The perfect amount of pressure and movement.

I'm rock hard now and if he keeps this up, I'm going to blow embarrassingly soon. I want to comment on how he said my pleasure was not to come from my cock, but I bite my tongue before the words spill out. I don't want him to stop. I don't want him to ever stop. This feels too damn good. I'm moaning like a whore and my hips are thrusting up into his grip, and I don't even care.

My head is spinning and my soul singing. It is far more than mere carnal pleasure that is giving me this high. There is an unexpected sense of warmth and fondness cocooning me.

I'm leaning all my weight against his muscled chest, and it feels like being held. His thighs are either side of my hips, but it feels as if they are hugging me, not restraining. Something about the way he is touching me feels tender. Caring almost. I may be losing my mind, but I swear he is holding on to me as if he needs me, as if this is the closest thing to affection he ever receives.

He picks up the pace and now I'm keening. My body is on fire. My every nerve ending is alight. I feel as if I'm going to explode and disintegrate into a hundred thousand atoms.

His free hand drifts over to a nipple. His thumb gently moves my firm nub in delicious circles. A feeling like electricity tingles straight from my nipple to my cock, where it adds to the overwhelming cacophony of other sensations.

His head lowers and gently nudges my head to the side, exposing my neck to him. Warm, soft lips fix onto my skin and suck, and the sensation is too much.

I explode. I fall apart. I'm screaming and arching and squirting cum into the confines of the bag. I'm on fire. Burning hotter than the sun. But I'm not disintegrating. I'm going to survive.

I'm gasping for air. Trembling and half blind. But by some miracle, I'm alive.

Rhydian picks me up, dumps me in my own chair and strides away. I stare at the door he disappeared through and try to remember how to breathe.

He is a confusing man. He took me as a bed pet, but I have done nothing for him. He keeps rocking my world, but I haven't even touched him. At first he claimed it was training, but I'm not convinced. There is something more going on here. Is he ever going to take me?

That thought ricochets through me. As shocking as being doused with a bucket of cold water and just as undeniable. The question unveils a troubling truth. I want him. Crave him.

I swallow. Okay. Why on earth do I want him to take me? What is wrong with me? How did it come to this undeniable fact? It is burning within me and there is not a thing I can do about it.

I want my captor to fuck me.