8. Chapter 8

Chapter eight

I never thought I’d be relieved to be in Mabon’s bedroom, but after that breakfast and being publicly displayed, this feels wonderful. Like privacy and safety.

I learned little at breakfast. Except that Mabon is far more than he seems. And I finally figured out that my earring is a translator. But that knowledge, combined with experiencing my first public outing, means it was useful. It wasn’t a waste of time. So I shouldn’t be this glad that it is over. It’s not as if I’m going to gather useful information in this bedroom.

A dull thud echoes out as Mabon drops my leash. The most ominous noise I have ever heard. The sound reverberates around my brain and rewrites my mood. My relief vanishes. As does my sense of safety and privacy.

Mabon dropping my leash is a simple gesture. One that should be meaningless. Nevertheless, all the hairs on the back of my neck rise. They stand to attention. My intuition is screaming that I’m suddenly in mortal danger.

I eye Mabon warily. He stalks towards me with all the grace of a predator. I back up until my legs hit the bed.

Suddenly, I’m falling backwards. My back hits the mattress and I bounce a little. Mabon is on top of me, pinning my arms above my head. How did this happen? How is he so fast?

His wonderful scent washes over me. Vanilla? Watermelon? Cookies? What the hell is it, and why is it so good?

His dazzling purple eyes are sparkling. He is a warm, soft weight on top of me. The grip on my wrists is gentle, yet I have the distinct impression that I’m not going anywhere. My heart is hammering uselessly against my ribs.

“Are you consenting now?” Mabon asks excitedly.

I try to swallow, but it gets stuck in my throat, so I shake my head instead.

Mabon frowns, his soft looking lips puffing out in a pretty little pout.

“But you know me now. And I’ve been nice to you!”

What the hell do I say to that? I barely know him, and keeping someone prisoner isn’t nice. How do I explain to this crazy person who is holding me down, that I don’t want to be ravished? Especially when parts of me do want exactly that.

He huffs. “I’m still beautiful.”

“Yes, you are!” I squeak, because it’s probably a good idea to try not to offend him too much.

A beautiful smile spreads across his face. It hypnotises me. His frigging dimples are going to be the death of me.

“So, why can’t I ride you?”

Oh lord. The images that are running riot in my mind right now. My subconscious is a dirty, filthy, and very horny beast. And now it has started, it won’t stop.

Mabon wriggles on top of me and grinds into my erection. There is only a thin piece of silk protecting me, and it is not at all enough to save me.

“Mister Dinky wants to!” he says triumphantly.

I groan helplessly. Then splutter, “I like girls!”

Mabon goes still. He tilts his head. “Why wouldn’t you?”

“I…only like girls.”

Mabon’s brows scrunch in confusion.

“You don’t like your brothers or male friends?”

What the hell? I’m so confused right now. What is he on about? Oh, wait a minute. I get it. Language is tricky. Even with translators. And that’s amongst humans. Mabon is not even from Earth.

“No, I do. I meant I only like girls, as in, I only like to have sex with girls.”

His eyes are wide. He looks bewildered and baffled. Have I not explained myself clearly? He stares at me for a long, long moment.

“Why would you restrict yourself like that?” he says, and he sounds utterly horrified.

Okay. I guess fey are all pansexual or something. He seems truly astonished by the concept of only being attracted to one gender. I’m not sure how this will help the Resistance, but I’ll mentally file it away just in case.

Now I just have to explain human sexuality to a fey prince. Great. Just great.

“It’s not a choice,” I try. “It’s a …thing.”

He gives me a look like I’m being ridiculous.

Suddenly, inspiration strikes. “You know how fey can’t…please themselves?”

Mabon nods suspiciously.

“Well, for humans, some genders just don’t do it for us. Some humans, I mean. Because some humans do like all genders.”

Jesus flipping Christ, I don’t even know what I just said. It sounds like gibberish to my own ears. Poor Mabon hasn’t got a chance in hell in interpreting that.

He stares at me. Then he blinks. Then he throws his head back and laughs. A rich, rippling sound that sets butterflies off in my stomach.

“That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard!” he declares brightly.

I glare at him, but I can’t really blame him. I don’t have the evidence to back up what I’m saying. I very clearly enjoyed jerking off in front of him, and then doing him. As for having my face fucked, well, I came all over the place without having my dick touched, so yeah. He has a point.

Add in the fact that right now he is sitting on my achingly hard cock, and he has every right to be laughing at me.

Prickly heat spreads across my face. My cheeks feel like they are on fire. Mabon’s gaze darts to my traitorous cheeks and he flashes me an almost fond smile. Complete with dimples.

“May I taste you?” he asks.

I blink at him.

He sighs. “Can I suck your cock?”

A gurgling, choking sound stutters out of my throat. I should say no. I need to say no. But I can’t say a thing. I think I’m choking on my own tongue. I never thought I’d die like this.

Mabon’s bright eyes sparkle with delight, and he moves and turns, quicker than lightning. Now his unchained cock is right over my face, and I can feel his hot breath on my own cock.

“Hello, Mister Dinky. Are you ready to have a good time?”

A helpless groan escapes me. Nothing about this should be hot, but it is. So very, very hot.

Sensation explodes through me. Synapses fire and new ones are born. My mind is sparking. My body is vibrating. Too much is happening. I can’t untangle it. Can’t process it. All I know is that it feels good. Everything feels good. Very, very good.

Slowly, the world starts to make sense. Mabon’s cock has invaded my mouth and is half way down my throat. And his mouth is enveloping my cock in hot, wet heat. My cock is inside Mabon. He is sucking on it.

I moan around his cock. Oh lord. This is too much. Sensory overload. Too many good things going on all at once.

I’ve never done a sixty-nine before. But I’m fully converted. This is my new religion.

Mabon’s cock slides over my tongue. It rubs against my lips. Movement and friction and bliss. I try to suck on him, to do something, but pleasure has turned all my muscles to jelly. I’m slack jawed and drooling. While he is devouring my cock with skill. His tongue is hotter than a human’s, I swear, and it rasps over my cock with an explosion of sensation.

I’m not going to last long. I’m already ready to blow. My balls are tightening. The base of my spine is tingling.

I whine and buck up into his mouth. My cock slides down into his tight throat. He hums in appreciation, and the vibrations drive me wild.

I can’t see. I can’t hear. Every drop of blood has rushed to my cock. I’m a throbbing, needy mess. There is only desire and lust and ecstasy. Everything else is forgotten.

His cock works its way deeper into me. I’m choking and drooling and making every awful noise there is.

He pumps faster. Fucks my face harder. Sucks my cock with more pressure.

I can’t breathe. Not even through my nose. He is lodged too far down. My lungs constrict. My throat muscles spasm around him. He moans in pleasure around my cock. His pointed tongue dances around my slit.

I’ve been doing sex wrong my whole adult life. I had no idea it could feel like this. This is a profound revelation. Life changing.

I can feel my orgasm. Hovering. Waiting. A pot of water that is on the edge of boiling over. Any second now.

My lungs try to suck in a breath but only succeed in sucking in even more of Mabon’s cock. His hips fall still. He shudders. A noise of pure carnality fills the room. And that’s all I need.

My orgasm spills over. It pours over me, scalding hot. Burning everything. It consumes me. I buck and writhe. I scream but no sound comes out because Mabon is filling my vocal chords and pumping cum directly into my stomach.

Darkness whirls through my mind. Stars are calling. I’m floating in the void.

Slowly, I become aware of a heaving, rasping sound. I think that’s my lungs.

One by one, my senses come back online. I’m drenched in sweat. Panting like a steam train. My limbs are like wet noodles.

Mabon is sitting next to my hips. He is licking his lips. He looks down at me. His eyes are glowing.

“Delicious,” he purrs.

The bastard doesn’t look out of breath. Or any worse for wear. He looks perfect. Beautiful and dangerous. A nightmare and a dream.

His cold, slender hand cups my balls. I whimper. I’m too weak and spent to try to pull away from him. He gently rolls my balls in his palm, as if he is weighing them.

He flashes his deadly dimples at me.

“I think you will be able to give me more soon.”

A pathetic noise spills out of my swollen lips. His suggestion is both terrible and wonderful and everything in between.

Mabon pats the top of my sweaty head.

“Good boy,” he beams.

Mister Dinky twitches.

Maybe being a sex slave won’t be so bad?