15. Polina

POLINA

C alvin's hands tease at the hem of my dress, hiking it up over my thighs. He's like an entirely different man in this moment, and not in a bad way, either. Instead of being the inquisitive, shy man with the calm countenance, he is now more like a predator stalking his prey. And I guess that's me. I'm his prey. My heart pounds in my chest as he hoists me up against the wall. I wrap my thighs around his neck as his fingernails dig deep into my abdomen.

"I was right," I murmur.

He lifts an eyebrow. "Right about what?"

"Oh, did I say that out loud? Silly me." I flutter my lashes at him sweetly. "Earlier, I thought about how your arms were slender but looked strong. And here I am, being proven right."

Calvin's cheeks color, like he isn't sure what to do with my compliment.

The sounds of merrymaking continue from beyond the curtain. Fae dance and laugh and clink their glasses together. No one has even noticed I've disappeared, even though this ball is in my honor. In Calvin's honor, too, I suppose. He disappears underneath my skirts—ugh, how I wish I could just tear this stupid dress off and throw it aside—and he burrows his face in my cunt.

He moans and jerks his head back. When he looks up at me, I can't help but snicker at the sight of his sticky, honey covered face. "H-Honey?"

I chew on my bottom lip and nod. "Mmhmm."

Calvin's tongue swipes across his mouth in slow circles, licking the honey clean from his face. "This just keeps getting better and better."

He buries his face into my cunt again as he presses me up against the wall, sliding me up further and further until I'm practically resting on his shoulders. "By the sun," I squeak out.

Calvin grunts from below, too busy lapping at my honeyed cunt to bother speaking. His tongue presses deep into my slit like he's one of my workers collecting nectar, drinking deep from my flower, until he finds my precious bud. He lets out a low moan as he circles my clit with the tip of his tongue in languid circles. I gasp again, and my hand flies to my mouth to keep myself from crying out.

Delicious .

Honey drips down my thighs, but I barely even notice as Calvin licks me like I'm his favorite meal. I bury my fingers in his dark hair, coating his scalp in my pixie dust. My thighs twitch without my permission as the tumbleweed of nerves in my stomach finally comes undone and an explosion of stars shatters across my vision.

I throw back my head and scream his name … before realizing too late we were almost certainly heard. Whoops.

But he doesn't stop. Doesn't lower me back down onto the bench like I think he will. With my legs wrapped around his neck, he carries me to the other side of the alcove and deposits me gently onto the floor. Gone is the shy man with the adorable dimples, replaced by a wolf ready to devour a rabbit. He hovers over my body, his expression tight, like he's in pain. Or … or at war with himself.

"Polina," he gasps. "Tell me to stop. Tell me to stop right now, and I will."

But I don't. I shake my head, lick my lips, and continue to stare up at him defiantly.

"Po," he says again, and presses his lips to my neck, my breastbone, my mouth. "There's nothing I would like more in the world than to fuck you senseless at your ball. But you wanted me to make you feel like a princess."

I drag my fingernails across his cheek as a laugh bubbles up my throat. "Princesses can do whatever they want. And I want you to ravish me, Calvin. Right here, right now." A moment passes between us, and I lift my head to bite his bottom lip. He shudders. "I don't want you to make me feel like a princess right now. I want you to make me feel like a queen," I whisper.

"Y-Yes, Your Majesty," he says, his voice trembling up an octave as his fingers go to work pulling the top of my dress down. My right breast pops out first, then the left. Calvin's throat bobs as he sits back on his knees to take me in. All of me. Then he's back on top, yanking my dress down over my abdomen and knees until it's a puddle of silk on the floor.

Frantically, he goes to work loosening his bowtie. His mussed-up hair falls into his eyes, and it's then I notice his glasses are askew. He doesn't bother to fix them before discarding his jacket on the bench. He unbuttons his shirt, and it's the next thing to go. His pants are next, and thankfully, he wastes no time losing them. When he sits back down on his knees and fists his length, my eyes widen.

Slickness runs down his shaft, begging to be licked off. I crawl over to him, my antennae brushing against his abs. He's all lean and sinewy muscle. A body that does little more than the usual activities for a human, I suppose. Walking, maybe even some running. I love his body, want to run my tongue across every surface of his exposed skin.

A few dark moles are scattered across the spot above Calvin's navel. I brush my lips against each and every one, making his thighs quake and his body shiver. His fingers finally find my hair, but just as he's about to dig into my scalp with his fingernails, he stops himself.

I flick my gaze up at him in question.

"I don't want to mess up your hair," he says, smiling gently.

I snicker. "No matter. It's okay. I can always put it back the way it was. I want to feel you pull my hair while I devour your cock." The words slip out of my mouth before I have the chance to swallow them back down.

Who am I? Who is this person who just requested to have her hair pulled? I've never done such a thing before. I've never had sex before, period, and now I am talking like the very slut Aunt Elza accused me of being minutes ago.

Oh, well. So let me be a slut, then.

I will revel in the role, since it suits me so well. Here I am, acting like one of the female praying mantis fae from the Valley of Orchids, ready to submit to this human man without question.

Calvin must see the doubt flash across my face, because he tenses for a moment and says, "Are you sure?"

I steel myself against my nerves and nod. "Yes, I'm sure. I want this, Calvin. I want…" I draw in a deep breath. "I want you."

His greedy fingers roam up and down my body, inspecting my curves, the swell of my abdomen, my breasts, until he finds my dark nipples and pinches them. I gasp from the sudden burst of pain that turns into sweet pleasure. He leans down and drags his tongue across my hardened nipples. He sucks, flicks, and squeezes my breasts, and I tilt my pelvis up to grind against his hardness.

Calvin releases my nipple with a pop, and I let out a sharp gasp. He blows cool air onto the spot he just sucked, and I buck my hips again. He shoves my hips back down with his body, pinning me in place, then brushes his lips against the shell of my ear. "Not yet," he murmurs. "Let me enjoy this, please. Let me enjoy you."

He gropes my breasts again, squeezing them gently in his palms, and stares down at me like I'm the only blooming flower in a desolate garden. The way he looks at me makes my heart melt like a candle against a bonfire. No one else in the palace looks at me the way he does, and it's easy to get addicted to the feeling. To him.

Calvin is leaning down to bring his lips to mine again when several voices yell from beyond the curtain. Our bodies tense, and my heart leaps into my throat at the thought that we could be seconds away from being caught. But no one ever comes back here, I remind myself. Hardly anyone even knows this spot exists. When I was a younger girl, barely out of my brood cell, I would come here to read my books away from the prying eyes of the guards and my Aunt Elza.

The curtain flutters to life, and Calvin clambers in front of my body, shielding me from the doorway. I bolt upright just as the curtain falls open and?—

A pair of bees stumble in, snickering and kissing. Their limbs tangle around one another as they moan into each other's mouths. I clear my throat loudly, and the larger of the two bees goes rigid. The smaller bee gasps as she turns her gaze to Calvin and I. My eyes widen in recognition, and my mouth falls open.

"Ser Beatrix and … Sylvie?" I sputter out, too stunned to form more coherent words.

Calvin's throat bobs as he claps a hand over his manhood. Ser Beatrix and Sylvie stare at us, their mandibles clicking in panic. Then they look at one another as they continue to pant, still eager from exploring each other's bodies.

"Oh, this is awkward," Sylvie finally squeaks. "I-I'm so, so sorry, Your Highness. W-We didn't know."

"Your Highness," Ser Beatrix finally says, pushing Sylvie behind her. "I am without words. I am truly sorry for disturbing you and the Caretaker. It won't happen again."

Blinking, I swallow the lump in my throat. "Yes, be sure that it doesn't. Also, if we could count on your discretion … I will not say a word about what we saw here today if you don't."

Ser Beatrix nods curtly. "Yes. Of course, Your Highness. You have my word."

The pair turn to leave, but I clear my throat again, stopping them. "Oh, Ser Beatrix?"

She turns her head, and her antennae flick back and forth. "Yes, Your Highness?"

"There's another alcove on the other side of the ballroom, just beyond the banquet tables, behind one of the potted flowers." My lips curl into a knowing grin. Even in this dim lighting, I can see a blush creep across the captain's pale cheeks.

"T-Thank you, Your Highness. I'll seek it out immediately," she says. And then the pair is gone, leaving Calvin and I alone once more.

He turns to me, his hand still covering his cock protectively, and says, "Well … that was … unexpected."

"It certainly was," I murmur. "Perhaps this isn't the best place for—" I gesture to my naked body. "This. Come to my quarters tonight after the ball. We will have more privacy, as well as more room."

I feel Calvin's eyes on me while I get dressed. He tries to get up to help me, but I shake my head as I start to put the braids back into my hair. "Thank you, but this is faster," I say. "I have to go before I'm missed. But please dance with me again before the night is over."

Then my mouth finds his in a tender kiss, leaving him speechless, before I rush through the curtains again.