Fey Regency (Fey Lords #3)

9. Chapter 9

Chapter nine

T he door softly clicks shut. The silence is pressing and deafening after all that noise, and the room feels vast and empty. I don’t know why everyone suddenly left, but I am glad for it. Not least because my knees are hurting.

Tristan walks over to me. I can sense him approaching, even though he walks as silently as a panther.

His hands go to my collar and unclip my leash. My treacherous body is yearning for his hands to go somewhere else. I almost lean towards him, seeking his touch, but I manage to control myself.

I don’t truly want him. My body is merely confused because he has been tormenting me for hours with my own damn clothes.

Dazedly, I stagger to my feet.

“You were such a good boy!” Tristan beams.

My heart flutters. My stomach squirms and my aching knees tremble. My entire body is responding to his words. I’m having a full-on visceral reaction.

Oh for fuck’s sake. This can’t be happening. I absolutely refuse to have a praise kink. That is disgusting and twisted behaviour. I’m not weak enough to care what he thinks. I’m supposed to be plotting my revenge over him throwing a party and getting depraved with his magic. I am not going to get all gooey because he called me a good boy.

“What would you like as your reward?” he grins.

Reward? I’m not a dog or a child. This fucking asshole. He pervertedly tortured me with my own clothes for hours while his nasty friends were vile to me, and now he wants to reward me for it? My hands clench into fists.

“Blow me!” I snap.

His ruby eyes sparkle. His grin morphs into something positively depraved. “As you wish.”

My mind stops working. My thoughts seize up completely. My mouth is probably hanging open.

Tristan takes my hand in his. A warm, soft touch that zings through me. I am so distracted that I don’t notice he is taking me to the bedroom until it is almost too late.

But suddenly, my brain comes back online, and I grind to a halt. He tugs on my arm, but I don’t move. He sighs and turns to face me.

“Don’t need a bed for a blow job,” I mutter. I’m not so easy to trick as all that, and I knew his offer was too good to be true.

A strange look flashes in his eyes. “You do if you are a prince.”

My brows furrow in confusion. “What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”

“I don’t kneel. For anyone,” he states with an obnoxiously proud lift to his chin.

I snort out loud. I have never heard anything so ridiculous in all my days. As if lying on a bed while sucking cock is any more dignified. But whatever. I’m getting blown, so I don’t care. Whatever makes him happy.

I hold my own head up high, free my hand from his and waltz over to the bed. Then I flop down onto it and fix him with an expectant look.

His grin is obscene. His bright eyes are abhorrent. He looks like a kid on Christmas morning, seeing all the presents under the tree, and not at all like a man about to suck cock. Unless he is a man who really, really likes to suck cock and doesn’t see it as a chore.

It is making me feel deeply uncomfortable. All warm and squirmy. Almost fluttery. It is horrible.

I snatch my gaze away from him and stare up at the canopy of the bed instead. My heart is racing far too fast. It needs to slow down.

The prince stalks towards me. All glittering red eyes and impressive antlers. It really isn’t doing my heart rate any good at all.

His hands go to either side of my hips. His head lowers and I suck in a breath. I see a flash of white teeth and then he is using them to pull on the sash around my waist. A gentle breeze tickles over me as my robes fall open, revealing all of me. Including my incredibly hard cock.

Tristan raises his head back up. He pauses. He admires the view. The look on his face makes me go all squirmy again. Why does he have to look at me like that? Like I’m something he wants. I hate it. It is so unsettling.

Slowly, ever so slowly. Excruciatingly slowly. I mean, ice ages move at a quicker pace, type of speed. His head lowers. His mouth gets closer and closer to my straining cock. His eyes never leave mine.

It is a lot. It is super intense. It might be more than I can handle .

A warm, wet, soft lick laps all the way along my shaft. From root to tip. Despite all the copious amount of warning I had, apparently I was not at all braced for this. Because I’m making a god awful noise and my hips are trying to do the tango. They’d be jerking all over the place if Tristan didn’t have a firm hand on my stomach, holding me down.

Another long lick. Now I’m howling. My eyes are rolling back and my brain is exploding with pretty colours.

“Such a sensitive little pet,” purrs Tristan.

I want to punch him, but my fists appear to be tangled in the furs. Gripping them as if they can somehow save me.

Soft, pillowy lips glide over the head of my cock. They begin a slow descent down. Rolling over me. Encasing me in tight heat.

A gurgle catches in my throat. My balls tighten painfully and I empty my load right into the prince’s mouth.

Two licks and he didn’t even get all the way down. Fuck. Well, there’s my first blow job going down in the history books as an utter humiliation.

Tristan pulls off of me and smacks his lips. “The human flavour really is delicious.”

I’m not going to look at him. I’m not opening my eyes, probably ever again. Hopefully, he will assume my burning cheeks are simply from arousal. The only thing worse than dying of embarrassment, is him knowing about it.

Tight heat engulfs my cock. My back arches and I cry out.

“What are you doing?” I shriek.

He pulls off of me with a wet pop, and suddenly I’m regretting asking him a question and encouraging him to speak, because there are far, far better uses for his mouth .

“Seeing if you are fey enough to cum multiple times in short succession,” he says and then devours my cock again.

I yell and writhe. All of me is inside his mouth now. His lips are forming a tight ring around my base. It feels divine. I never knew pleasure like this existed. I thought people were exaggerating about blow jobs. But they weren’t. They were underplaying them. Vastly.

What selfish bastards. If I had known how good they were, I would have tried harder to get one.

Wait a minute. Did he say multiple times? Fey can cum multiple times? In short succession? And he is going to try to make me do that? Holy fuck.

A noise like a whimpering wail tears through my throat as another orgasm shudders through me. This one rocks my whole body and not just my balls and cock. Holy stars.

Okay, that’s that hypothesis proven, and who knew science could be this much fun? My body is spasming and tingling with the evidence that I am indeed fey enough for the sheer and utter depravity of multiple orgasms in one session. I could have been a porn star.

Tristan licks his lips again. “You make such pretty noises, little pet.”

He sounds so pleased. So smug. So damn proud. My stupid heart flutters in confusion, but I don’t have the wherewithal to correct it. Rolling with the idea that Tristan actually likes me, is nice. So very nice. I can no longer resist its allure.

His lips wrap around my cock again. Oh my god. Is this really happening? Am I having the best horny dream ever? If so, I don’t want to ever, ever wake up.

His head starts to bob. Lips sliding up and down my shaft. He is sucking now. Everything is tight, euphoric pressure.

My hands move of their own accord. They fly down to his antlers and grab hold. Tristan rumbles. Shit. Is horn grabbing offensive? Too intimate?

I try to move my hands from his smooth, warm horns. Tristan groans. Oh, that was a good noise. He likes me playing with his antlers. That’s good because I seem to have lost control of my hands. I’ve lost control of all of my body, in fact. I’m writhing and gasping and moaning non stop now, and oh my stars, I feel another orgasm coming.

Oh lord, it is here. My back is arching. All I can see is white. There is no blood left in my veins. It’s pure ecstasy flowing through me. At a force of a thousand volts. I feel like I’m lit up like a Christmas tree.

The world shifts and moves. Blearily, I realise it is not merely my head spinning. Tristan has rolled me over onto my front and I’ve flopped like a dead fish.

His strong hands push my legs together. His cock slides between my thighs, closer to my balls this time. He thrusts. And grunts. Fast and hard. Sliding over the smooth skin of my closed legs. My body jerks like a rag doll, all boneless and compliant.

Suddenly he stills. I feel his enormous cock throb. A deep, incredibly manly groan vibrates through him, and what fills like buckets of hot cum empty all over me. It runs over my balls. It fills my crack. It spills down my thighs. Damn, fey produce a lot.

A shuddery moan of appreciation escapes me. That feels so good. And it is more than the physical sensation of being drenched in another man’s cum. It is the knowledge that I have given Tristan pleasure. So much of it, that it is trickling down my legs. This feeling of knowing I have made him feel good, might even be better than having an orgasm myself.

Wait. What the fuck? Did that thought really just cross my mind? What the hell is wrong with me? I guess post-nut glow really is a thing because I would never think sappy shit like that. Ever.

My lungs suck in a shuddery breath. What is Tristan doing to me? Is he turning me soft-hearted? Does he have the ability to melt my walls?

And the most shocking question of all, something that shouldn’t even be a question, do I want him to?