3. Skylar

Chapter three

Skylar

T he beast of a man who stood before me was like none other I’d seen before. Two deep-set brown eyes framed by long, dark lashes blinked at me with confusion. From there I followed the slope of his nose, slightly snubbed at the end with a thick, gold hoop pierced through his septum. He had a wide mouth and a square jaw that even his short beard couldn’t disguise. The black tank underneath his chainmail vest strained to contain the massive expanse of his chest. I spied a curly thatch of chest hair just below his collarbone and predicted the fur led all the way down to his cock. The bulge in question was impressive, outlined by tight-as-sin black leather pants that flowed down the length of his massive thighs like hot oil.

Did I mention he had horns? Two gleaming white horns protruded from his temples, angled forward as if perpetually ready to charge. Olé! My hands twitched to grab hold of those suckers and ride this beast of a man cowgirl style, but that would probably be rude, especially considering he was clearly part bull. Absently, I wondered if his cock more closely resembled that of a man or a bovine, and my mouth flooded with saliva thanks to my sudden and intense craving for dick.

“Where have you been all my life, sexy?” I purred in Arcanic, the shared language of the many realms that made up the Arcane Isles. My voice was even deeper than usual thanks to having to shout above the music.

“I’ve been right here waiting for you, sweet thing.” He grabbed hold of my hand and twirled me in time with the beat, then guided my backside into the cradle of his groin. Bass notes throbbed in my veins as we moved, pulsing against my skin like a lover’s heartbeat, the rhythm to which we were all temporarily enslaved.

“You new in town?” he rumbled in my ear, sending a wave of heat and desire to my cock, which was already rebelling against my finely spun gossamer pants.

“Just got in yesterday,” I said.

“Take in any of the sights yet?”

“Only the mountain of a man behind me.” I hoped I was correct in assuming that he was at least part man. I reached my free hand upward to card my fingers through his luscious locks of wavy chestnut hair, dragging a fingertip along the base of one horn and along his ear, then farther down his bearded face. No jewelry, except for the gold ring in his nose and that one would be difficult to remove. My finger met with the corner of his lips, and he turned, drawing my digit into the wet heat of his mouth. I shivered despite the fiery blaze of our bodies. I hoped he wouldn’t make me come right there on the dance floor. These pants took forever to clean.

“You’re a good dancer,” he said as his massive arms reached around to lock me in a proprietary embrace. His bulge was firm against my backside, his breath hot on my neck. He smelled of sweetgrass, leather, and raw male musk, and I decided right then he could have me any which way he wanted. The baser part of me wished to be casually used and discarded, even prayed to the Goddess he might. Turning my head, I whispered my filthy, fantastic desires to him in my native tongue.

“I don’t understand fae,” he said in a deep, growly voice.

“Put me on my knees, stud,” I said again, this time in Arcanic.

“You’re a bit of a cockslut, aren’t you?” he remarked, not sounding at all upset by it.

“Yes, I am.” I shivered at the idea that he might be exactly what I was looking for.

“Come with me,” he commanded. With one hand at the small of my back, just beneath where my wings were folded, he guided me off the dance floor, past the bar and the gorgeous stained-glass windows that paneled the back of the stone building, down a short hallway meant for staff, directly to a door marked Exit. I would suck this stranger’s cock in a back alley, I thought to myself with supreme satisfaction. I hoped my snobby, entitled princeling might even catch wind of it somehow, that his whoring, unremarkable ex had been spied down on his knees behind a seedy borderlands bar, being used as a convenient cum dump for one of its studly patrons.

Once outside in the misty mountain air, my handsome dance partner released me, and without further ado, I dropped to my knees on the hard and unforgiving cobblestones. The bull of a man huffed a loud breath through his nostrils, fogging up the air as he gripped my chin. His dark eyes flared with desire as he forced me to look up at him.

“You’re the sort of fetching that infects a man’s mind,” he said. The sternness in his voice sent ripples of pleasure all the way to my toes as my eyes landed on his behemoth of a cock stretching his tight leather pants, a prodigious mound of flesh that begged to be worshiped by yours truly. I suspected this halfling liked to get down and dirty in bed. Challenge accepted.

“I’ve been accused of a lot of things,” I said to him and licked my lips lewdly. His soulful eyes caught on my mouth, and I parted my lips to give him a glimpse of what was in store for him, should he choose to take advantage. “You can call me names if you’d like,” I tempted while tweaking one of my exposed nipples. “I can be your whore, your cum-sucking slut, your baddest bitch. You can use me however you want, stud, and discard me when you’re finished.”

He blinked, then made a strangled noise at the back of his throat. Shaking his head abruptly, he said, “The fae are said to bewitch their conquests with spells and charms. Is it true? ”

“Are you charmed by me, Daddy?” I teased as I cupped my aching crotch. He looked like a Daddy with his leather and muscles and hirsute body. And as he stared at me, stone-faced and suspicious, I wondered what type of Daddy he might be—tough and demanding or soft and cuddly? It’d be foolish to get my hopes up either way, but if he wanted to be my Daddy for the night, Goddess knows, I’d be a very good boy.

“You’re a thief,” he said plainly. “Though a very pretty one. You’ll cause trouble where it need not be, so I’m banning you from Church. You may not return here for any reason, fae. I’ll make my staff aware of it.”

I frowned, partly from the flat-out rejection but also the loss of income. I’d identified this den of sin as my best hunting grounds. The minotaur, for I’d decided by this point to consider him as such, lifted one hand, and I braced myself to be struck, but he only held it out for me to take. Placing my hand in his, an electric zing shot through my arm, widening my eyes and sharpening my senses. Surely, he felt it too? Drunk on elixir and carnal lust, I managed to say to him, “You think I’m pretty?”

“Devastatingly so.”

“A dead-sexy brute who is also a gentleman?” I bowed, camping it up. “Please, my gallant sir, won’t you at least tell me your name?”

A flash of something like reluctance crossed his face. “Hierophant Wolfsbane. Around here I’m known as Hiero. ”

“Skylar Larkspur,” I said and drew his hand to my lips so that I might kiss his knuckles. There was a thick gold band on one finger, and I resisted the urge to take it.

He drew his hand away slowly, came nearer as if to kiss me, then nodded to a man who emerged from the shadows. The minotaur then said with an authority that made my knees weak, “This is Fridolf, my cousin. He’ll see to it that you get home safely.”

He spun me around to his equally broad-shouldered cousin, though that was where the resemblance ended. I called to him over one shoulder, “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Wolfsbane. I do hope our paths cross again.”

He only grunted in response, but his eyes remained fixed on mine as if a binding spell had been cast. Blame it on the alcohol, but I liked to think he might feel the same.