Chapter 14

I'm not ready for a banquet. I'm not sure I will ever be. It is so hard not to fidget as I stand here in the sitting room waiting for Rhydian. The bastard told me to be ready in five minutes and now he has the nerve to take his own sweet time.

My gaze flicks to a side table, and my cheeks heat as memories come flooding back. Yesterday, right after the orgy, Rhydian bent me over that thing and stuck his tongue in my ass until I screamed his name and came harder than I have ever cum in my entire life.

I wonder if he'd be up for a repeat? Instead of going to this awful sounding banquet? My heart rate quickens at that thought, but who am I kidding? Seduction is not one of my skills and even if it were, I don't think Rhydian is the type to be swayed. He knows what he wants and when he wants it.

And speak of the devil, here he is striding out of his dressing room while looking incredible. I can't tell one fey outfit from another, but I know he looks damn good. He looks like a prince from a fairytale. His pale hair is all but glowing, and his antlers seem like a crown.

He moves towards me with a predatory grace, clicks a leash onto my collar and continues out of the door, forcing me to scramble after him or be choked. He is such a bastard.

His long legs make quick work of the hallways. I really don't need to worry about keeping three paces behind him. My top speed is just about managing four or five paces. Being any closer is just impossible.

We reach some huge and impressive double doors. A row of servants bow while others work to open the doors wide to reveal a full banquet hall. The sheer size and grandeur is dazzling. Enormous chandeliers and marble fireplaces. Pristine white table cloth that stretches on for miles. More silverware and fancy glasses than I have ever seen, and a whole sea of people, both human and fey, climbing to their feet and staring at us.

I try to swallow, but my throat is too tight. They have to be staring at Rhydian. Why would anyone look at me? I'm not interesting at all. I mean, I'm far hotter than I used to be, but compared to fey, still really nothing to look at.

The sea of people bob as everyone sinks into either a bow or a curtsy. Fuck. I've spent so much time with Rhydian, he just seems like Rhydian to me. An arrogant asshole, for sure. But I appear to have forgotten that he is the ruler of Britain. Conquer and invader and supreme overlord. He is both our prime minister and our king.

He resumes walking and I concentrate on not falling flat on my face in front of all these people. Rhydian takes a seat at the head of the table. A gentle tug on my leash tells me to take the seat next to him. I think I'd rather sit on the floor, at least that way I'd be out of sight.

And whatever happened to me sitting on his lap? He said it was practice for banquets, but perhaps that is going to come later in the evening. I shudder and obediently sit down on the chair next to Rhydian. I'll take a good thing while I have it.

As soon as we are seated, everyone else takes their place, and an army of servants swarms into action, sliding plates of delicious looking food in front of everyone. My plate looks exactly the same as Rhydian's. I glance down the table. The human guests appear to have been given something different. That's a relief. I'd feel awful about not warning them of the dangers of fey food. Not that I know what the dangers are. So far, I've only experienced the reward, but I'm not stupid enough to think there will not be a price.

Beautiful music rolls around the room. A full string quartet accompanied by someone playing a grand piano. This is a very human styled event. Or at least, the fey's idea of what a fancy human banquet looks like. I wonder why? Is it to make the human guests feel more comfortable? Or is it to mock them? Perhaps it simply amuses whoever's idea it was. I guess I'll never know.

I stare down at the overabundance of knives and forks in my place setting. Is it out to in, or in to out? I can never remember. I've not been to enough fancy events or posh restaurants to ever need to retain the knowledge.

Rhydian confidently picks up the fork on the outside edge of his setting, so I copy him. The moment the salad touches my lips, I want to moan in bliss. It tastes so damn good, and it makes me pretty. I've already eaten so much fey food there is zero point in being cautious now. In for a penny, in for a pound, as the saying goes.

All around me, conversations start to flow. I can feel the tension leaving my shoulders. This isn't so bad. All I have to do is sit here and eat dinner. I can do this.

The humans keep looking at me and I can hear the name Graham Grantham being whispered, but I can ignore it. I'm not even going to try to speculate who these humans are. It is irrelevant. It is not as if they can help me. And they are too far down the table for me to be able to speak to them. So I might as well act as if they are not there.

Instead, I'm going to focus on the fey princes. Knowledge about them and their relationships with one another are by far the most important thing I can learn tonight.

Llywelyn is sitting on Rhydian's left. His winged pet is nowhere to be seen, and that is making me feel uncomfortable. Has the prince done something to the young man? Hopefully not. Hopefully, the pet is safe and sound back in Llywelyn's rooms. But there has to be some significance to his absence. Something that I don't have enough knowledge to figure out. It is frustrating and alarming, but I'm going to have to put it to one side for now.

Llywelyn is the most dangerous brother, I'm sure of it. He gives me ‘entitled tech bro' vibes. If he was human, I swear he'd post stuff online about being an alpha and a high-quality male.

Sitting next to him is Selwyn. Mr Sexy Tumnus is dangerous too. In a smarmy used car salesman way. All charm and snake eyes.

I don't think Tristan is a threat. His red hair is gleaming tonight, and he is grinning broadly at all the guests. He seems to be a harmless enough himbo who only causes trouble with his cock. But I'm not going to let my guard down around him just yet.

Mabon is sitting next to me. His obsidian dark horns look as if they have been polished and his lilac hair is mostly up in an elaborate array of braids and twists. He is using his knife and fork daintily and looking sweetly innocent, but he doesn't fool me. He could well be the most dangerous person on the high table. He is definitely a queen. If he were human, I bet he would do drag and be a bossy, dominant bitch who everyone was terrified of.

I quickly shove a tomato into my mouth to hide my giggle. My mental image of Mabon as a scary queen is just too funny.

I want to tell Dyfri. But where is he? I crane my neck and look left and right, but he is nowhere to be seen and there isn't an empty place setting.

"Where is Dyfri?" I whisper to Rhydian.

He tilts his head ever so slightly towards the very end of the banquet hall. My gaze follows his gesture and then I freeze. What the actual hell? Dyfri is gliding gracefully around, refilling people's drinks. My teeth grind. This has to be more rhocyn nonsense, and it's a load of bollocks. He is a prince, just as much as these motherfuckers. He deserves a seat up here with his brothers.

Rhydian gives me a narrow-eyed look before turning quickly away. I guess he can't be seen to be deigning to notice his lowly pet. But he definitely clocked my righteous indignation. Which is hardly surprising since I'm all but bristling with it.

Fine. I'll ignore him too and simply concentrate on eating and seeming as unobtrusive as possible. I just want to get out of here now, but I have a feeling it is going to be a long, long night.

Plates are cleared, and a new course served. Over and over again as the hours drag. I've been in here forever. Stuck in some sort of groundhog day. The atmosphere has slowly changed. Something in the air. When I first sat down, I felt as if I were in Buckingham Palace. Now something has shifted. Everything feels otherworldly. And menacing.

The human musicians have been replaced by a fey playing the harp. The chandeliers have been dimmed and a thousand candles lit along the tables.

The fey are getting rowdy and the human guests are looking deeply uncomfortable.

The last three courses have been dessert. Surely it is time to go? I look at Rhydian. He is leaning back comfortably in his ornate chair while sipping from a gold goblet, surveying his subjects.

A noise from the far end of the hall catches my attention. Two fey are pawing at Dyfri. He tries to move gracefully away but they grab him. I watch in horror as they laugh while bending him over the table. This cannot be happening. I know Dyfri is treated as some sort of sex slave, but surely that doesn't stretch to being allowed to use him in public?

My gaze searches the room frantically as my horror grows. Nobody is doing anything. They are either ignoring the assault or watching with idle curiosity. This is outrageous!

"Do something!" I hiss at Rhydian. "That is your brother!"

Rhydian turns to me and raises one haughty eyebrow. I glare at him and turn away. The assholes are lifting up Dyfri's robes. A whimper escapes me. I turn back to Rhydian.

"Please!" I implore through gritted teeth.

Rhydian's eyes flash with something dark. "I could distract them with you?"

What the actual fuck? He clearly means something filthy and depraved. I swallow dryly. His gaze tracks the movement of my throat. His eyes are heated.

"Fine." I say as proudly as I can. If this is the best offer I'm going to get then I have to take it.

The surprise on Rhydian's face is satisfying, but it is quickly replaced by a smug, dangerous look. A cat enjoying toying with its prey.

He pats his lap. I grind my teeth and slide over to sit on him. He pulls me flush against his chest. Oh my. This is all happening far too fast. My head is spinning. My pulse is thrumming.

His hand lowers to my waist and tugs at a silk tie. My robes fall open. I shudder and close my eyes. It's fine. The table is covering my pertinent parts. If not, the cockbag definitely is. I'm not fully exposed. Just mostly.

Rhydian spreads his legs and the way my knees are hooked over his thighs, the gesture spreads me wide too. I gulp, but stay still. I agreed to this.

His fingers rustle in his robes for a moment, then they appear right by my hole. I flinch and draw in a sharp breath. His fingers are slick with oil and they dance around my entrance, caressing the sensitive flesh there.

I gasp again and clench my fists into the layers of silk by my thighs. The murmur of conversation drifting around the hall has quieted. People are watching. I'm sure of it. But I'm not going to open my eyes to check.

Rhydian's fingers tease around and around. Sensation blooms, heats, and tingles. Fuck. I think this is the oil he used on my nipples. My hips are already twitching. My cock is filling. I swear the bag is heating and gliding over me. Soft, soft silk moving up and down. Coaxing me to full hardness.

One cool finger eases gently inside me. I bite my bottom lip to contain my groan. It feels so good against my heated flesh. My body is tightening around him, almost as if it wants to greedily suck him in.

My nipples have hardened. I can feel a slight breeze whispering over them. A second finger joins the first and I moan. It is just enough stretch to feel it. But a mere echo of the fullness I am craving. I want more. I want to be spread fully. Filled so deep I don't think I can take it. My hips rock.

How the fuck has he got me so hot and flustered already? His fingers move deftly in and out of me. Rubbing over that sweet spot deep inside, every goddamn time. I whimper and cant my hips. If the angle was just a little different, I'd feel it all the more.

I open my eyes. Everyone is watching me keenly. Dyfri has vanished, but his molesters are staring at me hungrily. Good. It has worked. Dyfri has got away.

Rhydian curls his fingers and I cry out. A carnal, animalistic sound that echoes around the hall. Rhydian's free hand snakes into my hair and holds my head up so I can't hide. So everyone can see the bliss and pleasure painted on my face. I close my eyes and try to pretend we are alone in his rooms.

He picks up the pace and the pressure against my prostate. The oil soothes and burns and sets every part of me alight. He changes the angle, and just like that, my orgasm sweeps through me like a tsunami. I arch, buck, writhe and scream my pleasure to the stars. There is only euphoria. No sight, no sound, no consciousness. Only Rhydian and bliss.

I'm still riding the high when he pours me into Pinky's arms. I'm surprised she can carry me, she is so small. But she manages just fine. She gets me all the way back to my rooms, where she dumps me on the bed. As soon as my head touches the furs, I'm out like a light.

My last conscious thought is wondering if Rhydian is ensorcelling me to sleep. Then there is only darkness, and peace.