Page 119 of Fairies Never Fall

Fitzie rolls his eyes. “It’ssucha hardship to move into a place that’s three times the size of my last apartment and has an in-house dry cleaning service I can put on your boyfriend’s tab.”

“Felix. Seriously.” I grab the second last slice of pizza before he can lay claim and hand the box to Orion.

“Hey, we should have a housewarming party,” Orion says. “That deck looks perfect for a barbecue. Or a smoker. Larch wants to get into making smoked sausages. The guy is nuts, I tell you.”

“Seriously, Ezra, I’m good.” Fitzie’s legs swing back and forth lazily. I tell myself it’s happiness hiding in his half-cocked smile. “Really good. For now.”

“Alright.” That’s all I want.

“By the way, the party’s on Saturday and the smoker’s coming tomorrow. I already got Plato to recommend a DJ. You guys are behind. Probably cause Ez is too busy thinking about all the surfaces he’s gonna bend that hot fairy ass over once I’m out of the house.”

I groan. “Please never say that again.”

“How come I didn’t know?” Orion grumbles, reaching behind me with a shadowy tendril to steal the last soda.

“You were busy with theroyal summons,” Fitzie points out. “I hope the dragon king isn’t as high and mighty as your guy, or this gig will be no fun.”

“Well, he’s picked his successor, so cross your fingers it’s whichever of Bear’s brothers is the least overbearing,” Orion says.

“You’re gonna be an event managerfor thedragon king? That’s your secret job?” I can’t help laughing. “Couldn’t do this by halves, huh?”

“Speak for yourself, mister banging-the-fairy-prince. Anyway if I want my own bougie catering service I’ll need connections to the upper crust of monster society.” He shrugs. “It’s serendipity.”

“God, I missed this,” I whisper in Lysander’s ear.

Fitzie unfortunately spoke the truth — Lysander is bent over the counter. I stroke the perfect arch of his back and dig my cock into the green globe of his ass, plush and warm. I’m clothed, but his pants are halfway down his thighs. I couldn’t hold back.

He tips his head back, loose hair brushing my cheek.

“Ezra,” he groans, gripping the edge of the counter. “I’m so…"

He makes a frustrated noise.

“Are you pent up, baby?” I slide my hand up his chest and stroke his nipples through the sheer linen shirt he’s wearing. The Midsummer King’s crown is on the counter where I dropped it after staggering home from Fitzie’s party last night. Damn thing is getting a lot of use. Westillhaven’t had a moment to ourselves, but this morning I woke up to Lysander missing from the bed and I pinned him in the middle of making hot chocolate.

He lets out a harsh breath as I pluck his nipples gently, teasing.

“I’m sowet,” he gasps. “All the time.It’s not fair. My cock doesn’t even come out, it just gets thick and stuck inside.”

A jolt of heat goes through me. Yeah, he’s pent up alright. “That’s normal for us fertile folks. Do you have any idea how tender my balls are?”

“I don’t like it,” he whines.

I can’t help chuckling. “Do you like this?”

I smooth his gently rippled stomach, down his hip and between his thighs. Avoiding the obvious protrusion of his still-hidden cock, I squeeze and rub his soft inner thighs.

He squirms. “Ezra…”

“Yeah?” I don’t know how long I can keep this up. My cock is a burning rod in my sleep shorts and there’s absolutely no way he’s missed the way it’s prodding his ass. Even just his proximity makes my skin tingle with arousal. But I love the sighs and pouts he gives me when I draw it out.

“Please,” he moans, taking my hand. Instead of guiding it to his no doubt dripping slit, he brings it to his mouth. He sucks my fingers in and works his tongue around them. I almost choke, my cock jumping.

“Open me up,” he begs.

Fuck.Who am I to deny that?

I dip my wet fingers between his cheeks and stroke his hole. I have rope in the bedroom that I bought from Bear’s shop, a deep blue that’ll look stunning on him, and I’m dying to have him that way — face down, thighs spread, legs tied to either side of the bed. But I’m too impatient right now. I need him now.

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