He arches one perfectly shaped eyebrow at me. I snatch the earring from him, wedge the towel between my knees, and start the tricky process of switching earrings.
He watches me for a few moments. Then he huffs and takes over. He is very good at invading my personal space and standing close to me, without any part of our bodies actually touching. It’s maddening.
He steps back. I can feel the earring moving. It feels strange. Heavier than I am used to.
“Can you understand me?” he says.
I stare at him.
“Well?” he snaps impatiently.
I nod.
He smiles in triumph. “Good! Now get on the bed.”
For the second time in as many hours, my thoughts consist of only two words.
Oh fuck.
Chapter three
How has it come to this? How am I chained naked on a fey prince’s bed? All laid out spread eagled like an offering.
He told me to lie down, and I did. He placed silver cuffs on my wrists, and I didn’t resist. He placed them around my ankles, and I didn’t fight.
That’s what has got me here. I know the actions that led to this predicament. But I still don’t understand them.
Why am I being so meek and compliant? Has he ensorcelled me?
I know I decided to act with pride and dignity and not fight every little thing. But surely, being chained naked to a bed is not a little thing?
Mabon grins at me. His eyes are sparkling with avarice, excitement, and very filthy promises. It’s a strangely enticing look. Nobody has ever looked at me that way. I’m a big guy. Girls flutter their eyelashes at me and want me to take charge. The men who have hit on me, have done the same.
Yet Mabon is standing here, haloed by the white gauze covered windows behind him, looking every inch like some kind of horny angel who is about to devour me. Like he is the cat and I am the toy. Merely something to be used for his pleasure.
It’s lighting up parts of my subconscious that I didn’t know I had. This is so not the right way to discover a kink. Even I know that, and I’m as vanilla as they come.
Mabon steps towards me. The chains clink as my body futilely tries to escape. He doesn’t seem to notice.
There is a small ornate bottle in his hand. I didn’t see him pick it up. He slowly unstoppers it. I’m holding my breath. His hand reaches out. Now he is holding the open bottle over my bare abdomen. His eyes glitter. His hand tilts. Clear, viscous liquid pours from the bottle. It catches the light as it falls. I brace myself as best I can.
It hits my skin. It’s cold. Mabon keeps pouring. The substance pools around my belly button. It doesn’t burn or sting. Or turn me into a frog. A gentle fragrance drifts in the air.
I think it’s the fey equivalent of baby oil. Thank fuck for that.
I huff out a breath. My stomach moves and the oil runs over my hips to the sheets beneath me. Mabon doesn’t seem to care. I guess princes don’t have to wash sheets.
The bottle disappears into his robes. The bed dips gently as he sits on the edge beside me. He stares into my eyes as his hands rest lightly on my stomach. Finally, he is touching me. Skin on skin. His touch zings. Soft. Heated.
I suck in a breath as his hands drift up my torso, smearing oil upwards. It’s a massage. He is giving me a massage. I can cope with this.
His touch is maddingly soft. Barely there, as if he is merely tracing the contours of my muscles. His hands work slowly. Mapping every inch of my stomach and chest. Everywhere he touches ignites to life and then feels cold as his hands drift on.My skin aches for him. I want him to touch me everywhere, all at once.
He reaches my pecs. The smirk he gives me is positively evil. His touch strengthens. It’s firm now. Commanding. He moves my pecs up, squeezing as he goes. The heels of his palms rub over my nipples. I gasp.
He continues to play with my chest as if he thinks I have boobs. Up, down, squeeze. Pull apart, squish together. I groan. Fuck, that feels amazing. I’ve had girls pinch my nipples before, but never this. This is unbelievably good. Waves of pleasure are washing down to my cock.
Oh god. I almost wish I did have boobs. I’m damn glad all my workouts have given me what I do have. I suppose they are the closest thing to boobs a man can have.
