How to Keep a Fae (Coveted Fae #1)

Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Jayga

H er taste is still on my lips many hours later, even though I’ve downed a fair number of pints in the warrior hall. I’m buzzing. My whole body feels energized and alive.

When has healing ever done that to me?

Fuck. I can’t believe a saucy little thing dropped to her knees and sucked my cock. I’ll be jacking off to that image for the rest of my life.

She was pretty, too. They’re all pretty. Yet there was something about this one. I huff a chuckle. Likely any warrior would have his brain addled if a pretty fae did as much to them.

The warrior I’ve been chatting to is hailed by his patrol leader on the other side of the room.

“Better go,” my companion mumbles, quickly downing the last of his beer. “Probably got orders for tomorrow. Bastards never give us much of a break. ”

I give him the chin lift of solidarity, and he strides away.

August slides into the vacant space beside me with a nod and sets his pint on the table. His mother was a breeder, and he’s one of a scattering of fae among the warrior ranks. His dark hair is pin straight, with his pointed ears poking out. I’ve often wondered if they get in the way under his helm… He is also tall and freakishly strong. I saw him knock an orc out once with nothing but his fist. Straight right. Boom. The green bastard went down, out cold. I’m pretty sure I’d have broken my hand if I’d tried that shit.

“Seen a healer?” I ask.

He grunts. “Yes. I wasn’t badly injured.”

“Me neither.” I smirk.

He does a double take. He’s a serious bastard, but he’s alright. The hall is busy. Most of us have been with the healers, and we’re all feeling fucking high.

“Was she good, then?”

He shrugs and side-eyes me. “What’s not to be good about it?”

He has a deep voice and a cultured accent. He doesn’t talk much. I talk a lot and no one ever confused me with cultured. I don’t know why he sat down next to me, given he rolls his eyes at my nonsense half the time. Then I glance around again and notice just how busy the hall is. “Did too many patrols come at the same time?”

“They did. Someone fucked up with a portal. Left over fifty men stranded for a couple of days. The imperial in charge is getting reamed by the king for it.” A brief dark smile graces his lips and offers a hint of his fangs. I guess fae warriors don’t much like imperials, either. “They usually try to stagger downtime, but after they’d been hanging around, they decided just to call them in.”

“Makes sense.” I take another sup of my beer. Like most warriors, I don’t have a high opinion of imperials. They’re the ones with the power who report directly or indirectly to the king and who swan down to our levels on occasion to pluck warriors for their quests.

I’ve heard their blood is fucking amazing and can do a lot more than merely heal.

Not that I’ve ever been with an imperial or been called to assist on a quest.

Fine by me. The less notice I get from their kind the better. Questing with a snooty imperial sounds worse than regular patrols, which provide plenty of opportunities to be killed. That’s what happened with August’s patrol when they lost six men. The survivors got split up. August and another man ended up joining our crew.

This was last year. I don’t claim to know him well, but he can handle himself when there’s fighting to be done. Fucking lethal with his sword. And his fist, as that orc would attest if he were still alive. Actually, August’s a vicious bastard all around, and I’m always glad when he has my back.

I sup my beer, my mind already drifting back to the cute little fae feeder who drained my balls. Adaline . Her name is as pretty as she is. “She sucked me off,” I say.

He chokes on his beer.

I thump him on the back until he can snatch a hoarse breath.

“Sorry. What?!” he gasps out, scowling at me.

“My feeder. I’d barely taken my armor off when she sank to her knees. Took me right by surprise. Wrapped her fingers around me and sucked me straight into a hot little mouth. Never had one do that before.” I drink deeply of my beer. “I hadn’t even cleaned up. She didn’t care. I nutted within seconds. Embarrassing, really. ”

“Fuck!” he mutters gruffly, burying his nose in his beer before thunking it back against the table.

I smirk and waggle my eyebrows at him when I catch his glance. “Fucking amazing. And let me tell you, her pussy was the hottest pussy I’ve ever had. I think I’m halfway in love.”

He grunts and leans back on the bench. “Sure. Every warrior has found himself in love with a feeder at one time or another.”

“It’s just a figure of speech,” I say, feeling defensive. “I’m not really in love.” I shrug. “More in lust.” I rub my knuckles absently against the center of my chest. “Do you reckon they’ll let me go at her again?”

He inspects the bottom of his tankard. “No, especially not if they know you like her.”

“I’m not going to tell anybody, am I?” I say. “I’m fucking perky as hell now. Happen, I could take on an army of orcs.”

His lips twitch in a semblance of a smile. He’s not a jolly bastard, that’s for sure, so I like it when I rouse a response.

“I wouldn’t mind it if a feeder did that to me.” he muses. “Unless… I mean, if you offer it to them, they will never say no—greedy little sprites most of the time. You have to prise them off. But she just, what? Sank to her knees?”

He’s not sure whether to believe me, whether I’m making this up just to mess with him.

“Aye,” I say. I take another deep gulp of beer. “I warned her. Said I was going to unload. I swear she tightened the grip and tried to swallow me down her throat.”

“I don’t need all the fucking details!”

“Well, all right then,” I say. “I can’t stop thinking about it. Like a fucking spiritual revelation going down on her in her nest afterward.”

He glares at me before lifting his chin. “So what was her name? ”

I open my mouth to answer him, think better, and clamp it shut again.

“What?” he mutters. “Don’t tell me you’re suddenly developing a sense of propriety.” There’s a definite note of challenge in his voice that I don’t like one fucking bit.

“You’re sweet on her,” he concludes, his eyes taking on a knowing glint.

“Fuck you,” I say. “Why did you even sit down next to me anyway?”

“There are no fucking seats,” he says, sweeping his arm to indicate the room. “It’s busy. As you might have noticed if you could get your thoughts off the damn feeder, who you are definitely sweet on.”

I can’t argue. I had already surmised as much. Still, he doesn’t need to announce he only sits with me when there are no other fucking seats. Asshole.

The server comes over with two fresh pints for us. I down the rest of what’s left in my tankard and then pass the empty to her. He does the same. We both silently reach for our next beer and drink deeply.

“Go on, what’s her name?” he asks.

“I’m not fucking telling you now. I thought we were bonding over a beer before you made it clear I’m beside the only empty seat in the house. And let me tell you, she had one of those pussies that clamp the shit out of your dick. The ones you don’t ever want to leave. I realize you’ve grown up around them all your life. But I swear this one is a queen in my eyes.” I swipe my hand down my face, expecting him to make some disparaging comment… he doesn’t. “God, she was so fucking sweet, staring up at me with those gray eyes. Fae often have unusual eye colors, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen any with that shade before. Have you?” When I turn to look at him, I realize I ha ve his undivided attention. Worse, I suspect I’ve just revealed too much.

His lips tug up on one side. He lifts his beer to drink.

“You’ve been with her, then?” I don’t like the queasy feeling in my gut one bit.

He shakes his head, putting the tankard back down. “I don’t remember any gray-eyed feeder. But I’m usually busy fucking them instead of gazing into their eyes.”

His dig rolls off. I snort. “Whatever. I’d gaze into her eyes all day. Especially while I’m eating her out, and she’s gripping my hair, making those cute little mewling sounds.” I’m getting hard again… I need to think about something else.

“I prefer rutting them from behind,” he says, surprising me by being this forthcoming.

“You do?” I ask.

He shrugs. “You can get deeper that way.”

Deeper? Deeper than where? I was bottoming out at a couple of points. Can’t say I’ve ever paid much attention to a fae cock—I mean, it’s not considered polite to check out another man’s junk, but now I’m curious. Do they even have a knot? I give him an up-down look. “Why would you need to go deeper? Have you got a tiny dick or something?”

“Thank you,” he says, sarcasm dripping from his tone.

I grin. “You’re welcome.”

“For reminding me that you’re an asshole, and I only sit next to you when there are no other seats,” he continues.

I chuckle—an honest-to-God chuckle. Once I start, I can’t stop. I’m on to him now. He does have a sense of humor buried under his prickly facade; it’s just very dry. “So is it?”

“Is it what?” he says, scowling and reaching for his beer again.

“Small.”

“Tiny,” he deadpans. “Most barely notice. I’ve had a few fall asleep. ”

I snicker.

He cracks a smile.

I’m starting to warm to him. I get the impression he’s warming to me, too, even though the miserable bastard would never admit as much.

“What was her name, again?”

“Ha! Still not fucking telling you.”

“Fine,” he says. “Keep your secrets.”

“Good,” I say, knowing it’s riling him not knowing. “Happen, I will.”