14. Chapter 14

Chapter fourteen

T he cards Mabon and his brothers are playing with look an awful lot like tarot cards to me. But the princes are not telling each other’s fortunes. They are laughing and teasing. Lounging on overstuffed pillows around a low round table. And I strongly suspect the smoke gently billowing from these braziers doesn’t merely smell nice.

I’m sitting here in the presence of game night. There is no doubt about it. It is making me think that fey aren’t so different from humans after all.

It’s also making me wish I could join in. It looks like fun. I’m here, but I’m being ignored. I’m only a pet. Sitting by Mabon’s side like a faithful hound. Receiving the occasional pat on the head.

I’m not one of the boys and it’s surprising how much that hurts. I’ve always been popular. One of the lads. Being excluded stings and now I feel terrible for anyone I’ve ever accidentally done it to. Because this feels horrible. Even though I shouldn’t want to be a part of this group. Not only are they fey, they are fey princes. The worst of the worst.

I sigh heavily. My thoughts and feelings are a tangled mess these days. The sensible thing to do would be not to worry about my emotions for now. It’s a problem for future me and all the therapy I’m going to have. Surviving and information finding are the only things I need to be worrying about right now.

The surviving bit seems simple enough this evening. I simply have to sit here and look handsome. The pampered plaything of a prince. As for information, I’m listening to the chatter, but they really aren’t talking about anything meaningful. It’s just Mabon, Selwyn, Tristan and Dyfri hanging out like brothers do.

Dyfri is sitting as far away from me as possible. He hasn’t even glanced at me all night. His raven dark hair is loose and free and very pretty. His movements, as he plays cards and sips his drink, are graceful and easy. He doesn’t seem nervous at all. Perhaps because I’m on a leash and he is not alone.

Whatever the reason, I’m glad I’m not upsetting him and ruining his evening. I never want anyone to look at me the way he did, ever again.

Mabon said the man who made him a rhocyn was big like me. Osian said he was a rhocyn now and not fit to be part of Mabon’s household. So I gather a rhocyn is something bad. And if Osian became one after losing a duel, does that mean that Dyfri did too?

I snatch my gaze away from the dark-haired prince. Staring at him is not going to make him feel comfortable. But my thoughts won’t stop whirling. Do duels always end the same way? Is that what happened to Mabon’s brother?

My stomach rolls. I think I might be sick. Fey culture is awful.

I squirm and shift position slightly. This cushion is plump but I’m not used to sitting cross-legged on the floor. Mabon idly pats me on the head again. It takes everything I have not to roll my eyes. He really is taking this whole pet thing far too far. Nevermind that head pats apparently feel far nicer than I ever would have imagined.

Mabon looks stunning tonight. He has thousands of sparkling jewels woven into his hair. But most of all, he is shining with happiness. He clearly loves his brothers. He is relaxed and quick to laugh. And he has a truly lovely laugh. Joyous and melodic.

Suddenly, his hand drops to my thigh. Then it slides under the thin piece of silk that is the only thing I’m wearing. His fingers brush over my dick, and I yelp.

He looks at me. “What?”

My eyes dart around the room full of his brothers. “We are in public!” I hiss.

“You are shy? How adorable!” he coos with bright eyes. “I only wanted to stroke Mister Dinky.”

A strange noise comes out of me. Part whimper. Part choking. All parts humiliation.

Mabon grins. His face is a picture of pure delight. His devastating dimples are right there, mocking me.

He flows to his feet and tugs on my leash, so I clamber up after him.

“I’m going to go ride my pet!” Mabon announces loudly.

I wince and scrunch my eyes up tight, but my ears are still assaulted by a range of comments, from ‘have fun’ and ‘good night’ to lewd suggestions on positions.

Mabon merely giggles softly and leads me away. I’ve never been more glad to leave anywhere in my whole life.

I open my eyes once we are in the softly lit bedroom. Mabon pushes me against the wall. My head thumps against it and makes a dull thud. His fingers twist in the tiny piece of silk covering my dick and he rips it away and tosses it over his shoulder.

Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have been so happy to leave Mabon’s brothers. Being alone with my prince means he has no reason to contain himself.

“Whoa! Can we slow down? Kiss maybe?” I gasp.

Mabon freezes utterly. As if suddenly encased in ice. He blinks slowly. His brows furrow.

“You wish to kiss me?” he asks.

My gaze drops down to his plump lips. They look so soft. So warm. I know what they feel like on my cock. I want to know what they taste like.

“Yes,” I say, but it comes out in a breathy pant.

Mabon stares at me. His amethyst eyes are swirling with emotion, but I cannot read a thing. Is he as surprised by my confession as I am?

He nods, closes his eyes and puckers up like a cartoon character.

A soft chuckle bubbles through me. He is so endearingly cute. How am I supposed to resist this? There are a thousand voices in my head whispering all the reasons why I shouldn’t do this. I ignore every single one of them. It was my suggestion, after all.

I lean in and claim his lips.

His lips are soft, I was right. And they are so very warm. He tastes incredible.

He is not moving, so I coax gently, and suddenly he surrenders with a delicious whimper. His lips part and he allows me to lead the way. His arms twine around my neck. Mine find their way around his slender waist and I press him against me.

The kiss deepens. I slide my tongue into the silken heat of his mouth. He moans. His entire body quivers and softens. I think if I wasn’t holding him, he’d fall.

I pull away a little to lick and nip at his lips. He chases me hungrily. I dive back in and he welcomes me fervently. He is clinging onto me tightly now. All sorts of needy noises spilling from him. I’ve heard of people melting into a kiss. I’ve never experienced it before.

I lift his hips and he wraps his long legs around me, kissing me desperately all the while. I carry him over to the bed and lower him gently onto the sheets. He tightens his grip on me, as if he is scared I’m going to leave. He is acting like the only oxygen in existence is in my lungs.

I can feel his hard cock through his thin robes. He lifts his hips up and rubs against me. The way he is moving is pleading. Begging. Desperate. It is speaking to deep and dark parts of my psyche. Awakening them from a long slumber.

I try to break away from the kiss, but he clings on and whimpers sorrowfully. The noise goes straight to my cock. I’m throbbing now. Aching. Leaking. I’ve never been more aroused. There is no blood left in my veins. It’s pure lust.

I only meant to kiss him, but now I’m on fire and I’ll burn up and turn to ash if I don’t consume him.

My hand slides his silk robes up his thighs, baring him to me. I’m pure instinct now. I need to take. To claim. To possess. My fingers go to his hole and find a plug. A deep growl rumbles out of me.

I tease it out while he writhes and whimpers and never once breaks the kiss. I throw the plug over my shoulder. He is oiled and open. He wants me. The knowledge is turning me feral.

I notch my cock against his entrance. He keens and arches. My heart is beating hard. Slowly, I push into him. His body yields. It opens for me. Allows me into the silken heat of him.

He is gasping and moaning now. Trying to thrash in pleasure, but I’m holding him still with one hand on his hip. He is so frantic he might hurt himself. Slowly, I keep easing in. Deeper and deeper. Making sure he is ready, but being as swift as possible. He feels divine and I need to be all the way in.

Finally, I’m buried as deep as I can go. He takes me so well. Like he was made for me. He cries out again and his inner muscles clench around me. I groan and my vision fades. Mabon is consuming all my senses. I feel only him. Hear only him. His exquisite scent is the only thing filling my lungs. The taste of him is flooding my mouth. He is everywhere and everything.

My hips take up a slow, steady rhythm. Sensuous and primal. It’s beautiful. Euphoric. And it is going to end far too soon. It’s too perfect, too sublime. My orgasm is already building and building. I’m trying to fight it but it’s like trying to hold back the tide.

Mabon wails. He bucks. His hole tightens around me and quivers. He is cumming. Coming undone in my arms and riding waves of ecstasy.

It’s too much. It triggers my own peak. I yell as sheer rapture surges through me. My hips thrust deep and hold still. My cock throbs as I pump cum into Mabon’s insides.

The next thing I know, I’m lying breathless beside him. All my nerve endings zinging and zapping with pleasure. My muscles twitching with aftershocks.

That was fast. Passionate and frantic. Desperate even. Extremely intense. I have never been so overwhelmed.

“Is the human way always like that?” he asks softly. In a voice that sounds far too small to be his.

My heart constricts. My lungs stutter. My stomach does something strange. If he had punched me in the face, it would have had less of a visceral effect. It is not the first time we have had sex, but it was the first time he allowed me to lead.

“Not always,” I hear myself say. “Sometimes,” I correct hastily. “Most of the time,” I add.

I feel too scrubbed raw. My emotions are all laid bare. I need shields. Protection. And distance. I can’t let Mabon in until I’ve figured out what the hell is going on. And what it means. And what I should do about it.

“Wow,” Mabon says quietly.

Another punch. This one in the gut. And now I want to scream and grab a hold of him and tell him that it is never like that. Not ever. Not with anyone.

But I don’t. I just lie here in the dark and try to catch my breath.