Fey Regency (Fey Lords #3)

5. Chapter 5

Chapter five

T he last word I hear the purple-haired prince say to his pet is, “Don’t fret, Tristan won’t hurt him.” Then the door shuts behind them.

By all that is holy, I hope that is true. But I suspect there are a lot of terrible things that can come before official, ‘hurt’ territory is reached. Especially when it comes to fey. They seem like inventive motherfuckers and my granny always said they were the race who invented cruelty.

A shudder wracks my body and before I can stop it, fear floods my senses. This is terrible. Most normal people are blessed with either a fight-or-flight response. But not me. My stupid nervous system jumps to freeze, which has never been helpful and is really not helping the situation right now.

Prince Tristan either doesn’t notice my predicament or takes full advantage of it. He strides up to me, grabs my arm, and drags me to his bedroom.

As soon as we are through the door, he releases me. Not that it does any good. I’m still frozen. All that has changed is the view. Now I’m frozen and staring at the world’s biggest bed. It is tall and wide. Big enough for an orgy of ten. It is a fourposter, complete with a canopy, but it has been laid with an abundance of thick brown furs. Elegance and barbarity combined. Somehow it works.

I force a swallow down my throat and it actually goes down. I have regained control of some of my muscles. That’s something. With any luck, all my faculties will come back online. Hopefully soon, because there really is nothing to panic about. I’m overreacting. He said he wanted to give me blow jobs. And who the fuck is scared of blow jobs? I’m being ridiculous. Fellatio is a lovely thing. Everyone enjoys receiving it. Or so I have heard.

“Get on the bed, pet.”

My heart pounds. Oh shit. That doesn’t sound necessary for a BJ. Maybe he does want something else.

“This is a terrible idea!” I manage to say. It is a bit on the squeaky side, but it is words. In the right order.

The prince gives me a questioning look.

“I just ate a shit ton of food,” I point out.

A very reasonable thing to draw attention to, if you ask me. But then I go and ruin it by blushing. Spectacularly, by the feel of it.

The prince’s ruby eyes fix on my heated cheeks and the bastard grins. A huge, delighted, smug grin that would make the Cheshire Cat jealous.

“I’m going to make you feel so good,” he drawls.

Another squeak type sound escapes me. “No…no thank you!” Oh my stars. This asshole has me so flummoxed that I’m being polite.

His eyes darken. Mirth morphs into a predatory lust. His antlers are casting a twisting shadow on the wall behind him. He looks every inch like a dangerous, malevolent creature from the old tales.

“You like it when I kiss you,” he preens .

And just like that, something inside me snaps. Rage is ignited. Its inferno burns away all of my fear. My muscles spring into action. I have one goal in mind. And one goal only. His balls. I’m going to kick him so hard his grandchildren will be born bruised.

I attack, but my victim moves. Holy smokes, he is fast. I try again, and then again. He tries to grab me, but I swerve. We tussle, and then it is all over.

I am on my back, on the bed. He is on top of me. A reversal of when we met. A twisted reenactment of my assassination attempt.

I glare up at him. He smiles down at me like the god of smugness. An effigy radiating heat and weight. Pressing down on me and forcing me to feel all sorts of nameless things.

His hand moves and now he is pinning my wrists above my head with just one of his stupidly strong hands. His now free one moves down to my hair and twists. He angles my head. He starts leaning down. I try squirming, but I can’t move at all.

My breath hitches. “Don’t you dare fucking kiss me!”

He pauses, inches from my face, and chuckles. He is so close that his warm breath tickles over my face.

“How about a deal?” he drawls.

“A deal?” I repeat mindlessly.

Somehow, his already shit-eating grin intensifies even more. He nods towards a bedside cabinet and I follow his gaze to a beautifully carved hourglass.

“It measures a ghurry, twenty-four of your human minutes.”

Okay, strange time for a cultural exchange, but whatever .

“You lie still and be a good boy, and if I haven’t made you cum by the time the sand runs out, I’ll let you go.”

Oh my stars. Nevermind a fright short-circuiting my mind, apparently dirty talk can have the same effect. This is terrible. I can’t fall apart again. I have to pull myself together. Focus. My captor is saying filthy stuff, but it is still a deal. I need to think.

My eyes narrow. “Let me go, as in, set me free?”

I’m not stupid enough to fall for a fey trick. Letting me go could mean simply releasing my hands so I can get off this damn bed.

Ruby red eyes flash. “Yes.”

My stomach flips right over. This is exactly the type of perverted deal a fey would offer. It is what they are known for. Curdling milk. Stealing babies, and being randy motherfuckers.

“I will only use my lips and tongue, no toys, and nothing…else.”

I swallow and the sound hangs in the small space between us.

“What’s the trick?” I ask hoarsely.

“No trick,” he says with a flash of white, slightly pointed teeth. “Simply a very fun deal.”

The look on his face is positively charming. Alluring even. He may have slitted eyes and antlers, but he is still a very handsome man. A very handsome man who wants to do things to me.

Oh god. I need to somehow muster every single one of my brain cells. They seem to have all wandered off somewhere. Scattered. Just when I need them the most.

Okay, Ollie, think. You can puzzle this out. You aren’t daft .

If I let him do things to me, and I manage to resist, I gain my freedom. If I fail, I gain an orgasm.

I know I’m not thinking straight or firing on all cylinders, but I cannot find the flaw in this plan. I can’t really lose. Not that I am going to lose. I’m not as easy or as horny as all that, and twenty-four minutes isn’t long. I can lie here while he slobbers all over me, and I can do it with enough willpower to remain unmoved. It’s going to be fine. In twenty-four minutes, I’m going to be free.

My gaze drops to his lips. My stomach swoops in an echo of what I felt when he kissed me. Even my knees tremble in remembered sympathy. Maybe twenty-four minutes is an eternity after all.

“No snogging!” I barter.

“No snogging,” he agrees with a wicked smile.

I give him my best haughty stare. “Then you have a deal.”

He smirks again and I have never ever seen someone look so damn pleased with themselves in my entire life. It is quite something.

His hand leaves my hair and reaches out towards the bedside cabinet. I look over just in time to see the hourglass lift into the air and flip over. My heart pounds. Magic. I am watching real, actual magic. The stuff I used to dream of as a boy.

The golden sand starts to trickle down. My sense of wonder evaporates. Oh my stars. We have started. I didn’t even have a chance to brace myself.

The prince’s hand tugs at the waist of my clothes, and suddenly all my silken layers are falling open. He is unwrapping me like a gift, and just like that, I am utterly naked beneath him .

His heated gaze rakes over my goosepimpling flesh. Holy smokes, this is intense. No one has ever looked at me like this. I have no idea what to make of this. I don’t have the defences to deal with it.

He leans down, and I try to push myself into the mattress, but there is no escape. His soft, slightly cold lips land on my neck and I realise, far too late, that I stipulated no snogging. Not, no kissing. I messed up and now according to the terms of our deal, he is free to kiss me anywhere. Anywhere that is not my lips. Absolutely Anywhere.

His cool lips trail down my neck to my bare chest. I shiver, even though everywhere he has touched me is burning like fire. A trail of sensation mapping exactly where his lips have been.

I squirm, but it does no good. He slowly and gently kisses his way down my body. I was not expecting this tenderness. Down and down he goes. Unravelling me a little more with every careful brush of his lips.

Lips and tongue, he said. I was fully expecting him to dive straight to my cock and devour me roughly. Suck on me as if my cock contained the only oxygen in the room. Surely, that would be the quickest and easiest way to make a man cum and therefore win a deal?

Why this care? Why this attention? Why is he acting as if he has all the time in the world and not a lousy twenty-four minutes?

It doesn’t make any sense. Nothing about this makes any sense. I am lost and floundering in unknown waters.

He has reached my stomach now, and I suck in a breath. But to my surprise, he ignores my cock. His kisses turn to the left and continue downwards. His hands move to my thighs and gently coax them open. He drifts even lower.

A shaky moan escapes me. Oh my stars. Is he really going there?

My unspoken question is answered by a hot, wet tongue licking over my hole. My hips try to buck, but he is holding me in place. Fireworks explode in my mind. A wail pours out of my soul.

That feels good. So damn good. It is everything I never knew I wanted.

His tongue laps around and around. Over and over. Up and down. Hot, wet and soft. Licking ecstasy into my delicate flesh.

Suddenly, I’m crying out as an orgasm tears through me. My cock, completely ignored and utterly untouched, is pumping cum onto my stomach. Every muscle in my body is zinging. All my nerve endings are sparking. I’ve been electrocuted with pleasure.

I wheeze as the euphoria slowly recedes.

“Oh pet. You are a find. A diamond in the rough,” he purrs with glowing eyes. Pride and delight clear in the set of his shoulders, as he somehow looms over me while positioned between my legs.

I tilt my head to look over at the hourglass. It is not even half spent.

Fuck.