Page 30 of Chased By the Fairy

Thankfully, his parents’ sleeping flower was situated within the very bottom of the tree, leaving them fully insulated from any frost. His own would have been next to theirs for the ultimate protection from the snow.

Instead, he flapped his wings in irritation, making red dust cascade off them as he walked down the hallway.

At the top of the tree, a small knot of wood opened up to one of the many branches the fairies occupied around the fairy court meadow.

Usually, the tree would be filled with glittering, multi-coloured lights from their wings. Music, chatter, and festivities would have brought sound and wonder. Normally filled withwelcoming warmth and magical beauty – with anyone being allowed to visit – the area was barren.

He was one of the few who were awake, after all.

All the other fairies were nestled inside their homes, waiting for when the changing flora of the world would be in motion once more. They hibernated in winter, since there was little use for them. Once spring’s sunlight touched the ice, they would break from their sleep magic and pop out of the snow like daisies.

His feet echoing in the empty hall, he found his room not far from his parents’ chambers. It was one of the closer rooms to the private court hall – a place he hated.

He had responsibilities and duties to perform as the prince. He would have been more content with this if he didn’t have to hide his personality, especially amongst the other fairies who flittered inside the court. If he could’ve just completed his duties without having to satisfy the court, he would have been much happier.

Instead, he was trained to always remain calm, to never talk out of line or be rude. He had to be the gentle prince, not the rough man who secretly called from within.

If his parents ever discovered his many exploits, they’d be horrified. The fights he’d gotten into while wearing a shroud, the sexual escapades he’d initiated with both men and women. The one time he’d gotten so drunk on nectar mead and found himself awake on a tree branch butt naked.

They’d be mortified if they learnt any of this.

They knew him to be their perfect heir, who occasionally lost his temper with them when he didn’t get his way, but nothing much more drastic than that. They’d shoved him into a box of expectations that he was dying to escape.

He slammed through the petal flap door of his bedroom and ripped his crown from his head. He threw it onto the stand just so he could run his fingers freely through his hair.

Where are you, Sorrel?Where was his bright speck of fucking sunshine just when he’d found one?

He needed the one person who had made him feel more alive in the few hours he’d spent with him than he had over the years he’d lived. Who had made him laugh more than ever before in the three months of autumn he’d watched him from afar. The person whose sweet smile up close and directed at Cypress had stolen his heart, while the wicked, teasing glint in his icy-blue eyes made his cock hard.

He took in his sparsely decorated room with a hollowness.

His bed, made from a walnut – with cotton for a mattress and a green blanket – was pushed up against the very middle of the back wall. A writing desk, which someone had carved eons before he was born, stood to the side with a chair in front of it.

There was a vanity mirror, a wardrobe filled with his clothes, and a chair in which he could rest. Other than that, there was very little else in this room. It was bare since he preferred to be outside where he could be free and explore.

For most of his adult life, Cypress had been chasing after secret excitements because nothing satisfied him. Just one night with Sorrel had him feeling at ease.

Dancing with him while they fought for control to lead, while Sorrel mocked him, teased him, had been thrilling. And then touching him...

Cypress groaned, feeling his shaft hardening in his trousers.

He hadn’t been able to get it out of his head.

This bare room would feel so much more welcoming if Sorrel was sprawled somewhere within it. Perhaps Cypress would even begin to like court life if there was someone in it that brought him joy and made him want to stay.

Where the hell are you?!He struck the wall with the side of his fist before he leaned his forehead against his arm. His eyes bowed as his thoughts fixated on his missing companion.

Sorrel should be here with him. Cypress had finally gotten the damn courage to approach him, and he’d been hoping that would be the beginning for them. Instead, he’d lost him!

He should be somewhere where he could see him, talk to him,touchhim. Because, since he’d held his cock in his hand and slipped his finger inside him, Cypress had wanted more. To hold, to touch, kiss, lick. He wanted tobite.

And he knew the moment he bent his arm so he could lean further against the wall while unbuttoning his trousers to grasp his own pulsating, rigid cock, that he was irrevocably infatuated. He was obsessed with the enigmatic man.

His mind and body ached for every inch of him.

He stroked his cock from tip to base, pulling back the skin until it felt taut and the pink head popped through, while imagining Sorrel’s face.

That boyish face, somehow both masculine with his sharp jaw, and yet gentle with high cheekbones. How his bottom lip was a little fuller than the top, making him have a sinful, permanent pout. His blue eyes held a playfulness that called to the depths of Cypress.

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