Fey Regency (Fey Lords #3)

18. Chapter 18

Chapter eighteen

T his is a very nice bedroom. Quite lovely in fact. Fancy and posh, and somehow mine. I should be delighted. Thrilled. But I assumed that going back to Tristan meant going back to his bed. Yet here he is proudly presenting me with my very own room, and all I am feeling is a crushing disappointment.

“There is a connecting door to my bedchamber here,” says Tristan as he gestures at a wall.

I squint and can just about make out the narrow door. It is covered in the same opulent wallpaper as the walls. It is all very classy and discreet, I suppose. But I don’t understand why it is needed. He was happy for me to sleep in his bed before. Why this sudden need for separation? Is he angry at me for all the drama I caused? That would be fair enough, but why invite me back at all? Why the grand gesture and the fancy dinner?

This is all so confusing. I hate it. It is not at all what I want.

“Do you need anything else?” Tristan asks.

For you to kiss me and ravish me and make me feel wanted. I think, but thankfully I manage not to say it out loud. Instead, I simply huff out a, “No.”

“In that case, I will leave you in peace,” says Tristan .

And just like that, he is gone and I’m all alone. Bastard.

My gaze settles on the pull cord that rings the bell for the servants. I need to get these stupid clothes off. But I wonder if I can do it on my own now?

A few minutes later, after fiddling with a sash and arguing with some laces, I’m finally naked and I managed it all by myself. It is a ridiculous thing to feel proud about. Even so, I’ll take it. I need all the cheering up I can get.

I am feeling far too despondent to shower, so I simply flop on the bed. The furs are soft and warm. Lying here naked is wonderfully comfortable. Just a little lonely. Which is infuriating. I’ve been alone my entire life, and I was perfectly fine with it, thank you very much. Just because some asshole decided to snuggle me in his bed for a short while, doesn’t mean I need to get all weepy about it.

I sigh heavily and try to pull myself together. I still think I have made the right decision. As soon as I walked into Tristan’s rooms, it was like a weight lifted off my shoulders. This place even smells right. It feels like I belong here. So that’s all good.

And Tristan is going to do things to me at some point. It is the whole reason I’m here. His pet and his vessel. That’s what he said.

He wants my magic as well as my body. Which is great for me, for all sorts of reasons, including horny ones. But also because if I have to have regular sex with a fey, I want it to be him. No one else.

Oh god, that is so embarrassingly sappy. However, in my defence, better the devil you know, and all that, so actually I’m being sensible, not sappy.

Holy stars, this is impossible. I pick up a pillow, cover my face with it, and let out a quiet scream of frustration. It does nothing to help me.

Tristan said pet and vessel. He gave the impression that he wanted to do all sorts of depraved things to me, but perhaps he is bored of me and actually only wants me for my magic? That would explain the separate rooms.

My gaze keeps flicking to the not-so-secret door. Oh for flip’s sake. I’m waiting for him to come in, aren’t I? I’m hoping for it. Yearning for it. It is pathetic and I hate myself for it.

Well, screw him. I don’t need him. If he is going to keep me in luxury and not even make me work for it, then that is his loss. I’m just fine without him.

A little horniness won’t kill me. I move the pillow off of my face and glare down at my half-hard cock. Simply imagining Tristan opening that stupid door and striding in has got me in this state. Bloody bastard. Thankfully, I am not a full-blooded fey and I can sort myself out.

I bite my bottom lip. Okay, I can sometimes sort myself out. It takes hours, doesn’t always work and is always super frustrating. My own hand gets me hard easily enough, it is reaching any sort of conclusion that is elusive.

Damnit! If I start playing with myself now, I could very well only succeed in making things worse. It might be best to leave my cock alone and attempt to sleep instead.

I suck in a deep breath and let it out slowly. I should be exhausted. It has been a long eventful day, what with dinner in The Shard, and Tristan turning London off. Sleeping should be easy.

I close my eyes. Immediately, images of Tristan’s smiling face swirl before me. Give me your delicious cries and pleasure, he said. So where the hell is he? The far too handsome bastard is on the other side of the wall. Lying naked in his own bed. Ignoring me.

With a defeated groan, I wrap my fingers around my cock. My semi is clearly not going anywhere, so I might as well try to sort it out. There is a thin glimmer of hope that Tristan’s attentions have unlocked my sexuality and wanking will be easy now.

My hand moves up and down. It tightens. It feels nice, but nothing like when Tristan touches me. Goddamnit. That’s my hopes dashed. Seems my body is stupidly, stubbornly fey in this regard. Just my flipping luck.

I quicken my pace, in case it helps. I’m fully hard now. Frustration is already rolling through me.

“Need a hand?”

I yelp in fright as my eyes fly open. Tristan is standing at the foot of my bed, arms crossed over his chest, smirking at me.

My cock throbs at the sight of him, and I stubbornly resume my stroking. Oh stars, even with him just watching, it feels a whole lot better.

“No. I’m human enough to not need any help,” I snap.

Tristan’s eyes flash with something dark and hungry. “Show me.”

A shudder jerks its way down my body. “No!” He needs to leave. He can’t see my lie and my frustration.

“If only to prove your point,” Tristan says, his eyes boring into me and completely ignoring my hard cock and my hand that is desperately stroking it.

This bastard isn’t going anywhere. His presence is making me more eager. I hate him so much.

“Fine!” I growl in defeat as I release my cock.

Tristan laughs. Low and deep. I’ve never wanted to punch him more.

“You don’t need to help me. I’m not sick!” I say with narrowed eyes.

He tilts his head and gives me a fond look. “Your magic is not the only reason you need sex. Little Nisny. You are a young fey with needs. Regular fun will cure your bad temper.”

I scowl at him. “Doubtful.”

It really isn’t likely that a few orgasms is going to turn me into a happy, sunshine type of person.

He laughs again, ruby eyes gleaming. “It will be fun to try, at least.”

My heart flutters like crazy. “I suppose.” I admit begrudgingly.

His grin intensifies, and he gives me a truly filthy wink that makes my knees go weak, and then, without giving me any chance to recover, he grabs my ankle and yanks me down the bed until my legs are completely off of it and my ass is right on the very edge.

My undignified squawk echoes around the room, but he doesn’t seem to care. He simply places his hands on either side of my hips, bends down and lowers his head. I have a nanosecond to brace myself, then I’m crying out as hot wet heat envelops my cock. He sucks me into his mouth and keeps on sucking. I’m yowling now and my orgasm is already brewing. So fucking easy when he touches me. It is outrageous.

Suddenly, my mind is whiting out, and my back is bowing. My orgasm erupts. I tremble and gurgle my way through it. Oh stars. That is so much better. I’m not even going to waste energy being embarrassed about how quick it was.

Tristan releases me with a wet plop. He straightens up, licks his lips and sighs happily.

I sit up and find myself at eye level with his enormous bulge. His silk robe is not hiding a thing. He is either wearing a different style than what he dresses me in, or he is just that big.

I gulp. I’m sitting on the edge of the bed. Right next to his huge cock. And a strange new hunger is burning through me.

The silence between us is deafening. It is nearly heavy as the tension. I suck in a shaky breath. His hand moves, and suddenly his cock is free. Naked and uncovered. Inches from my nose and utterly gorgeous.

Tentatively, I reach out and touch it. It feels like heated silk and it throbs at my gentle caress. Oh stars. This is the hottest moment of my life.

I lick my lips. “Show me how you like it.”

There, that is a good bluff. He’ll never know that I’m actually completely clueless. I’ve managed to make my ineptitude sexy. Go me.

His hand covers mine. He guides me up his enormous length and then all the way down. Slower than I would have expected. He gently tightens my grip, then he pushes my hand up and down again. Okay, I think I’m getting this. The most shocking thing is how good it feels for me. The hot, heavy weight of him. The softness. The way it twitches in my hand. It is all heavenly. I thought I’d be making him feel good, this is such a bonus.

I look up at him to check he is enjoying my touch, and the look on his face makes me whimper. His eyes are wide and dark, his cheeks flushed and his lips parted, jaw slack. Oh fuck, he looks damn good.

His eyes flash and he grunts. Hot, wet stuff sprays on my face. Oh my god, he is cumming all over me. Gallons of the stuff. This should be gross, so why do I like it? What the hell is wrong with me?

For some reason, I keep staring up at him as he cums all over my face. I’m blinking the stuff out of my eyes, but I still can’t look away.

His ruby eyes glow, actually light up, like cat’s eyes in the dark. He is loving this. I am loving this. Fuck it. It is hot. I don’t care if it makes me a perverted weirdo. I only care about one thing.

When can we do it again?