Chapter 4

My head is spinning, and my knees hurt. After lunch, spending what felt like eternity kneeling by Rhydian's feet as he worked at an obnoxiously large desk was a strange form of torture. I'm very relieved to be moving once more, even if it means following a few steps behind him while he holds my leash.

All my listening and paying attention has done sod all so far, but I'm not giving up that easily. It has only been one day. These things take time. I assume.

He takes me to a fancy sitting room. I think it is his, but I was only in his rooms for a few moments earlier today and all the extravagant parts of the palace are blurring together in my mind.

"Can I go to the toilet?" I ask. Yikes, it is like being back in school again.

He nods and drops my leash before heading over to a drinks cabinet without so much as glancing in my direction. Fine. Great. Whatever.

Thankfully, it doesn't take me long to find a bathroom. I waste a few moments gawping at all the marble and gold, then I quickly relieve myself, wash my hands and hurry back to Rhydian. I want him to continue to think I'm meek and no trouble at all. Fool him into trusting me so I can escape.

He looks at me over his glass of amber liquid and raises an eyebrow when I offer him my leash. He takes it and drapes it casually over his arm. I think I may have just passed a test. Or aroused his suspicion with my apparent overly extreme docility. This bastard is impossible to read.

He doesn't release me from his gaze. I'm caught, helpless, as the air around us thickens. We are only standing here in his fancy sitting room, but the hairs on the back of my neck rise. I want to flee, but my muscles are frozen.

Suddenly, he puts his drink down and strides away, yanking me forward with the leash. I glare at his stupid back and the long fall of his pale hair and the intricate braids that weave around the base of his antlers. It is a sight I'm becoming depressingly familiar with.

He stops walking. Several facts hit me all at once. We are in his bedroom. It is nighttime. I'm his pet. The abrupt realisation of this combination of things is like a punch to the gut. It's disorientating. A few heartbeats ago I was glaring at his back, now danger is dancing all around me and I'm drowning in it.

My mouth goes dry. I can't breathe. My thoughts have stuttered to a halt. The bed seems to be a living thing, ominous and brooding. Mocking and taunting me insidiously.

The prince unclips my leash and drops it onto a plush chair by the dresser. The chain clinks loudly in the silence. I don't feel any freer. He might as well still be holding it.

"Undress," says Rhydian.

I look down at my clothes. I don't even know where to begin.

He sighs as if the weight of the world is upon him. Two strides bring him right up to me. His fingers pick at a knot at my waist. He pulls the lace free, and all my layers of silk fall. They slide off my shoulders, skim past my hips, and pool at my ankles.

I'm naked before him.

Wearing nothing save for his collar around my neck.

His gaze slowly tracks down my body. I shudder. Lust ignites in his eyes. The only sound is the frantic thumping of my heart. Deep in the back of my mind, I have been dreading this moment all day.

"Please don't," I croak.

Suddenly I'm on the bed, bouncing a little from being thrown. He is looming over me, caging me with his arms on either side of my head. His pale hair falls over us, creating a little world where only the two of us exist.

"Never show weakness, little pet," he growls. "This place is a nest of vipers, and they will strike if you show your belly."

His eyes are wide and dark. Strangely, he looks more human like this. His dilated pupils seem round now, instead of slitted.

I nod helplessly. My mouth is far too dry to talk. I don't really understand what he is talking about. Everyone has already seen how pathetic I am.

He sighs again, as if I am the most exasperating person he has ever had the misfortune of meeting. "I will not ravish you. It takes time to learn to be a pet."

Is he telling the truth? I can't tell. Though there is no reason for him to lie. It is hardly as if I can stop him from doing anything that he wants. He has no need to trick me.

"You need to learn that pleasure does not come from here." His cold fingers dance over my flaccid cock, and I suck in a shuddering breath.

He pushes my thighs apart, and I don't do a single thing to resist him.

"Your pleasure comes only from here." His fingers move lower and trace around my hole.

A strange whimper pours out of me. It sounds more like a noise a wounded animal would make, not a fully grown man.

"I've never," I whisper.

"Never what?"

I stare up at him. Despite everything, I'm still embarrassed to say the words.

"Never anything. I'm a virgin."

His brows knit together. He looks confused. "You are not a child."

What the hell is he on about? Obviously I'm not a child. He is looking at my very naked body.

"I am a virgin," I repeat slowly and carefully.

He continues to stare at me intensely, as if I'm some baffling puzzle he cannot decipher. The air between us continues to thicken and I swear the light dims.

Eventually, he lifts one hand up and taps his pretty silver earring.

"The translator is only finding the word child. What does your word mean?"

I stare back at him. He gets a pretty earring while I get thread? I know he is a prince and I'm a captive, but it is still unfair. And that injustice aside, the knowledge that the magic is fallible is strangely disconcerting. It should be fantastic news. If the fey are not as perfect as they seem, it means my escape is more likely.

He gives me an impatient look and I hurry to obey his command.

"It means an adult who has never had sex." Is the best I can come up with.

"An adult who has never had sex?" he repeats and this time his delicate eyebrows nearly disappear into his hairline. He looks utterly dumbfounded.

My embarrassment grows and blooms. It spreads across my body in a mortifying pink flush. Clear for him to see.

"Are you defective?" he asks.

What the fuck? That's where his mind goes?

"No!" I protest. "I…I just wanted to wait until I was in love."

Silence falls, heavy and weighted. His eyes are wide. I think I have astonished him. Oh my, what if it is more than my ridiculous statement that is confusing him?

"Please tell me you know what love is?" I say.

He frowns. "Of course I know what love is. It is the most powerful force in all the worlds."

It is my turn to blink in confusion. Do these translators work? What is going on?

"Love is the gift of sentient life. It is what sets us apart from rocks. People give their life for it. Their world." He falls silent for a moment. "Love is the entwining of souls. A higher state. The closest to pure bliss it is possible to be."

Okay. That might just be the most romantic thing I have ever heard in my entire life. Just my luck that it is my alien abductor who is saying it as he looms over me in his bed. But at least it does seem that he knows what love is.

"Oh. Um. I think so. I think we are talking about the same thing. I don't know for sure because. I've never been in love," I stutter.

Some emotion I cannot name flashes across his eyes. "Me neither," he says softly.

Another silence wraps around us. This one feels like a soft blanket. Our gazes are locked. His eyes look amber in this light, and despite how terrifying and obviously not human he is, now that I am seeing him up close, I think he is actually not much older than me.

"I cannot respect your wishes. I will use you. But I will take it slow," he says, breaking the silence.

I nod my understanding and lick my lips. His promise is far more mercy than I was expecting. But this is still a deeply shitty situation.

He flows off of me and off of the bed with a grace that is mesmerising to watch. I lie motionless where he left me, sunken in amongst the soft furs of his bed.

He takes off a layer of his exotic clothing, and then another. Just when I think I'm going to see him naked, he stops and climbs back onto the bed, dressed in long white cloth that resembles a nightgown.

I can't believe I'm disappointed. Being a virgin doesn't stop me from being horny, even so, as much as I might want to see a real live naked man, perving on my captor is a stupid idea.

He settles in a semi-reclining, seated position against the very many pillows and then pulls me on top of him as I give a little squeak. My ass is sitting on the mattress, between his spread legs, but my back is pressed against his chest.

I can feel the contours of his pecs and the coolness of his skin. There is only the thin layer of his nightshirt between us. My breaths start to come in short, rapid gasps.

"Be at ease," he says. "Tonight, I will not touch you below your waist."

If fairytales are true, fey cannot lie and their promises are binding. The tales were right about the fey existing, they were right about magic, but some things must have been warped by the years that have passed and by storytellers' imaginations?

But he has no need to lie to me.

I yelp as a book levitates off a shelf, flies over to the bed and hovers in front of us. The pages flip open. The text is all strange, undecipherable characters. I guess the magic thread in my ears only works for the spoken word.

Rhydian reaches over to the bedside cabinet and picks up a jewel encrusted golden goblet. He takes a sip and lets out a soft sigh. I feel him relax and settle behind me. Am I really just going to lie here naked, half on him, while he reads? I mean, it is better than the alternative, but it's still strange.

Long, long minutes pass. It becomes clear that this is exactly what is happening. My body starts to relax. Tension leaves my muscles. It's been a long exhausting day, and the prince is quite comfortable to lie on. My breathing evens out and my heart rate steadies.

Cold fingers trail over my chest and circle lazily over my nipple. I tense. The pages of the book rustle as they turn magically. Rhydian seems engrossed in his book. Am not even sure he is aware that he is playing with my nipple.

His fingers continue to tease, dancing lightly around, brushing tantalisingly over. My nub swells under the attention. I begin to squirm. This is starting to feel good. It's the first time I've been touched by someone in any erotic way, and I hate how much I like it.

The goblet thuds slightly as Rhydian places it down. The pages turn. His now free hand claims my other nipple and I stifle a gasp. Bastard. He does know what he is doing. The words he spoke earlier echo through my mind.

I will not touch you below the waist.

Stupid, na?ve idiot that I am, I completely forgot there are erogenous zones above the waist.

Twist. Tweak. Flick. Rub.

I bite back a moan. Tingling pleasure is shooting down from where he is tormenting me, straight to my cock. It's swelling and stirring and soon he will be able to see how much I am enjoying this.

One of his hands leaves me for a moment. I hear movement on the bedside cabinet. When his fingers return, they are slick with sweet smelling oil. He quickly coats his fingers on his other hand.

The glide is soft. Like silk. The oil heats and heats. I whimper. My hips move. Is it chilli oil? It prickles. Sensation is increased. It feels as if the oil seeps into my pores and feeds my arousal. My skin is more sensitive, I can feel his clever fingers far more acutely.

Pleasure is washing over me in waves. My head drops back onto his shoulder. I cannot contain my moans. It feels too good.

"You may pleasure yourself," he whispers in my ear.

I shiver. I raise my head and look down my body. My nipples are swollen and puffy. Glistening with oil and inflamed. Two thin trails of oil trace down my chest, across my stomach, where they mingle with the precum leaking from my hard cock.

"I will not stop until you cum."

A filthy moan pours out of me. Having my nipples played with feels divine, but I doubt I can orgasm from it. Being kept in this heightened state of arousal with no relief will soon turn into torture.

Besides, I really, really want to cum.

My hand reaches down and I start stroking myself. I'd like to collect some precum to use as lube, but I don't want any more of that oil on my cock. And dry is perfectly fine.

Somehow, even though I can't see him, I can tell he is watching me intently. His eyes fixed on my hand moving up and down my very hard cock. His fingers continue to torment my nipples and the cacophony of sensations is too much. My hips buck. I cry out and I cum. Hard. Pleasure exploding through me and whiting out all of my senses.

"Lucky saesneg," he says softly in a tone of awe.

"What?" I gasp. My lungs are still trying to remember how to breathe.

I guess my translator can't cope with the word saesneg, but Rhydian said it in the exact same tone I would use to call someone a lucky bastard.

"Lucky saesneg, being able to pleasure yourself," he explains.

Okay. That's got my attention. "You can't?"

"No fey can," he clarifies sharply.

"Damn, that sucks," I say before I can stop myself. But it is true. I can't imagine anything worse. "Why can't you?"

I feel him shrug. "Why can't humans tickle themselves?"

Oh. Well, that has me lost for words. But only for a moment.

"Does that mean fey don't have a very high sex drive?" I ask.

I've been abducted. Fondled. I've just jacked off in front of another person for the first time ever, and here I am asking questions about biology.

Rhydian laughs. Low and deep. I feel the rumble of it spread from his chest to mine.

"Oh, pet. Fey have extremely high sex drives."

I swallow tightly. Well, shit. A high sex drive and no way to sort themselves out. I'm so fucked. Literally. Life as a pet is going to be very interesting.