Instead I say, “I know.”
Cinder climbs me like a tree until her legs wrap around my hips. My hands easily scoop her tiny, perfect little rear as we continue to kiss like the world is ending.
Though she tries to keep me from pressing my tongue into her mouth at first, I persist until she gives me access. I don’t care that her piercing burns my tongue. I tangle mine with hers, tasting her dark sweetness.
Soon the coppery taste of my blood mingles between our mouths. She tries to pull away, but I grip her by the throat. My fingers weave in between the spikes on her collar. Unlike herpiercings, the jewelry and adornments on her clothes aren’t true silver, so I can touch all I want without consequence.
For a moment, I think she’ll freak out. She likes to be in charge. I'm breaking the rules.
An erotic half groan, half mewl escapes her.
Oh.Oh.
So it really is just the fangs that freak my little spicy Queen.
Or maybe she is learning to trust me?
Something inside me laughs at that.You aren't worthy of her trust, she knows that. No one would trust you with a plant even if you were born in a greenhouse.
Cinder’s hips buck against the crotch of my black jeans forcing a friction that makes my aching dick throb.
Oh fae fucks I’m so hard, I could drill into a wall. Instead, I set her on the edge of a counter and reach under her skirt. My other hand is still wrapped around her throat.
“Do you know what these fishnets and these little skirts do to me?” I rasp.
She shakes her head, purple eyes glazed and unfocused. Every part of her communicates what she wants—more.
“You make me rock hard. It’s almost impossible to keep from unzipping my pants and fisting my dick whenever I set eyes on this little getup. I wouldn’t even care if anyone saw me jerking off to the punk princess of two realms.”
The fishnets are thigh high, held up by garters.
Fuckity, fuck godsdamn.
Don’t blow your load, Charming.
Putting my raging arousal aside, I run my index finger up along the pleather underwear that keeps probing eyes from seeing too much when she’s dancing up on the bar.
They are too strong a fabric for me to easily rip or even pull aside. Her hips buck harder as I rub the underwear against her most wanting part.
Catching sight of the reclining chair for Tink’s customers, I get an idea. I effortlessly pick her up—gods, she’s so small I need to make sure she’s better fed in Midnight—and swing her around, depositing her on the chair. I drag her underwear down her legs before spreading them. I lift her skirt, putting that pussy on perfect display. It’s so wet and ready I just know my fingers or prick would slip right in so effortlessly before she strangles the cum right out of me.
When I step away, she growls.
Literally growls.
Fae lords, she’s incredible.
“Now, now,” I say as I snap a pair of surgical gloves on. “Don’t be like that. daddy’s gonna take care of you.”
“Daddy?” she says flatly, raising an eyebrow. Despite her unimpressed expression, her fingers turn bloodless where they clutch the arms of the chair and her thighs glisten with her desire.
“Shh,” I hush her. “Or you won’t get dessert.”
With that, I swipe a gloved fingertip up her slit. Her body jerks as if hit by a live wire.
“Fuck.” She bites her lower lip as if it’s too much. “It’s never felt like?—”
She cuts herself off.
