I blink. What the hell is wrong with me? Why on earth did my thoughts go down that path?
And now they are not stopping. Now I’m picturing him writhing beneath me while I torment his nipples. I’m imagining making him cum just from that. I’m fantasising that he would make the same noises as the last time I watched him orgasm.
“Enough of this,” he says abruptly.
I stagger back as he stands and turns. Water sloshes everywhere. He steps out of the bath and stands on the tiled floor with his back to me. My gaze drops to his pert ass cheeks as water streams over the peachy globes of perfection.
“You may dry and oil me.”
I cough awkwardly. I am rock hard. And naked. The water is the only thing saving me.
“Now.”
I step towards him. His back is to me. Besides, he is probably already aware of my arousal. Who knows what kind of freaky sex powers he has? He definitely seems like the type to have them.
He points at a low table, where a neatly folded towel sits next to a jar. He said to dry and oil him, so I guess I’m supposed to do it in that order. I’m sure he will soon tell me if that’s wrong.
I hurry over to the table and grab the towel. It is ridiculously soft. Do they spin them out of clouds or something? Actually, thinking about it, this is now a fey court. So towels spun out of clouds could totally be a thing.
My stomach twists uncomfortably. Just how much my world has changed is deeply unsettling. And that was even before I was abducted and imprisoned. And made to dry a super gorgeous prince with a cloud.
My hand shakes as I dab the towel at the middle of his back. I wait for a heartbeat, with bated breath, but he offers no criticism. So I continue. I pat gently all over his back. And then his ass cheeks. They jiggle ever so slightly under my touch, and the urge to drop this blasted towel and knead Mabon’s ass cheeks with my bare hands is frightfully strong.
I grind my teeth and continue my journey down his long, shapely legs. I’ve done all of this side of him now. Which means I need to walk around to his front. Where he will be able to see my erection.
But I don’t see any way out of this.
Mabon stands perfectly still as I walk around to his front. I stand before him, with the towel ever so casually held in front of my cock.
His amethyst gaze drops down to my groin and then back up to my eyes. He smirks. An honest to god smirk. A mocking curling of his lips that causes dimples to form in his cheeks. Actual dimples. Insanely cute ones. It’s outrageous.
I’m almost angry as I step forward and dab at his chest. But being confronted with his nipples again, drains the anger from me and leaves me feeling hazy. A little dizzy even.
“Those cuffs do not suit you,” he says suddenly.
And they slide off of me and hit the floor with a dull thud that makes me flinch. Mabon didn’t move. The magic just happened, and that is so very freaky.
“Continue.”
Oops. I hadn’t realised that I had stopped. Hastily, I resume my task.
I work my way down. To his taut stomach. And down a little more. His pierced cock is hard by the time I reach it. I’m sure that should be satisfying. I’m sure I should smirk back. Even though I don’t have dimples.
I try to ignore his cock. I dry one leg and then the other. I’m on my knees before him now. Please tell me this is over. My skin feels too tight for my body. Like I’m about to explode.
I look up at him. He looks down at me.
Slowly, very slowly, his long-fingered hand drifts down to his cock. He unclips the chain.
“You may take me into your mouth.”
A strange strangling noise comes out of me. It sounds like an animal caught in a trap. One that can’t breathe. And I guess that is exactly what I am.
“I don’t know how to,” I rasp.
Not, ‘I don’t want to.’ Or, ‘I like girls.’ Or even, ‘Remember that consent stuff?’
No, nothing like that comes out of my mouth. Just a helpless confession of inadequacy.
