Page 75 of Atop the Faerie Throne
He shrugs, all regal and unaffected despite the way he has me pinned and tied at his mercy. “You’ll come when my cock is buried in your ass and not before. Every time you die, I’m going to make sure your ass is sore inside and out. Maybe that’ll finally teach you to take better care of yourself.”
I freeze, but he’s already moving, reaching for something on the nightstand. His hands return, slick with oil that only gets colder as he works it along my crease. Goddess, what kind ofmagic is this? And how am I so turned on when the only thing he’s played with is my ass?
His hands leave my cheeks, settling on the mattress on either side of me momentarily as he uses his knees to kick my legs wide. Once I’m spread open like an offering, he raises my hips and shoves a pillow underneath. I squirm, trying to escape, but there’s nowhere to go. My hands are tied, and with him like this, I can’t do anything but hump the cushion in frustration. The way it lifts me gives him better access toeverything.
“Soaked,” he says, thumb stroking my clit once before returning to massage my ass, sinking slowly in to the first knuckle. “You love this, huntress. Don’t pretend otherwise.”
Goddess.
Dark, twisty pleasure lights me up from the inside out with every stroke. I sob into the pillow as he plays with me like he has all the time in the world. His thumb is quickly swapped out for two fingers, then a third, spearing the icy burn deeper inside me with each thrust. He never really gives me time to adjust properly, always leaving me just short of that point where my body yields comfortably to the invasion.
I writhe, pressing my heavy breasts into the suddenly abrasive silk in search of something that might release the pressure inside of me. The cold is torturous, holding me back even though I’m straining for that elusive edge with all my might.
He withdraws, and the wet sound of him coating himself in more oil competes with my own ragged breath to fill the room. The scalding frost is still tormenting my insides, lingering even though his fingers are gone, adding to the sensations building at the base of my spine and the throb of my clit. Then he notches that pierced and slippery crown at my entrance, and I tense.
“Relax,” he orders.
When I don’t immediately comply, he wipes his hand on the sheets and warns, “Wings.”
Pleasure streaks through me, my clit and the membranes on my back inexplicably connected as his hands grip my uppermost wings and use them as leverage to push himself into my body.
I feel every single piercing slip inside, one by one. The oil seems to cling to them more than anything else, chilling them. I whimper. The pillow under my hips puts him at a devastating angle, enabling his cock to hit places inside of me that make glittering dust cascade from my back.
It’s just too much to process. My poor mind can’t take it, and as he slowly seats himself against my burning ass cheeks, tears fall from my eyes. I’m in love. I’m in Hell. I’m so lust drunk I can’t even scream, my nerve endings singing from pleasure-pain that doesn’t make any sense.
“Rhoswyn,” Drystan’s voice cuts through it all. “Do you need to use your safe word?”
I shake my head against the pillow, keeping my face buried so I don’t have to see him or face the truth of how much I want this. The darkness is comforting, allowing me to feel without worrying how much of my violet dust will be covering every inch of us right now, or why I can feel Jaro’s and Caed’s surprised arousal beating down at me.
“Please, master. I need you to fuck me. I need to come.” The pillow muffles the words, but he’s close enough that he can still hear me.
His tongue traces the line of my throat, lips pressing a kiss over the chain of the necklace that suddenly feels more like a collar before moving up to the delicate point of my ear.
“Well done, huntress. You can come as many times as you want.”
Then hemoves. His hips drag back, then snap forward, burying him somehow deeper than he was before. There’s nobuildup, just raw, explosive fucking. He knows exactly how much pressure he can put on my wings, how to move his thumbs to massage the joints until I’m panting and screaming beneath him.
I didn’t think I could come like this, but the cold burn in my ass combines exquisitely with the wing stimulation, hurtling me towards the stars without mercy. Then he uses the bond against me, sending every single ounce of his own pleasure down it.
I’m gone. I’m so far gone I can’t even hear anymore. Everything is white noise and searing pleasure. My world narrows to our bond, and the resonance of his heartbeat and mine in perfect, racing sync.
He drives into my ass like he’s trying to imprint himself into my every cell, and I come again as he roars his completion to the open ceiling, as untamed and wild as I’ve ever heard him. When he releases my wings to slump against me, he presses open-mouthed kisses to every inch of skin within reach, licking the sweat and dust from my skin with a low groan.
It’s only much later, when he’s cleaned both of us up and my immortal healing has removed all traces of redness from my wrists and ass, that I finally ask.
“Did Jaro and Caed…?”
“They came to find you,” he admits, as I snuggle deeper into his side. “But when you’re in my ropes, you’re mine. They figured that out when their eyebrows caught fire.”
I smile against him. “Were you really mad at me for almost killing Caed?”
Drystan’s finger, which had been tracing lazy spirals over my arm, stills. He takes a long minute to collect his thoughts before he resumes the motion and answers me.
“I was afraid.”
The un-Drystan-like confession makes my lips part in surprise.
“If he’d died after you confessed to loving him, I knew you’d choose to follow. I was uncertain whether you might shun me for causing his death once we were reunited in the Otherworld.”
