“Sure, whatever,” I snap.
His grin turns full wattage. It is going to melt me into this chair. It is already destroying all of my brain cells. It is impossible to resist.
When he smiles at me like this, I want to give him anything he wants. Anything at all. My soul? Sure, here it is on a plate.
Oh god. I’m really, really screwed, aren’t I?
Chapter eighteen
This is a very nice bedroom. Quite lovely in fact. Fancy and posh, and somehow mine. I should be delighted. Thrilled. But I assumed that going back to Tristan meant going back to his bed. Yet here he is proudly presenting me with my very own room, and all I am feeling is a crushing disappointment.
“There is a connecting door to my bedchamber here,” says Tristan as he gestures at a wall.
I squint and can just about make out the narrow door. It is covered in the same opulent wallpaper as the walls. It is all very classy and discreet, I suppose. But I don’t understand why it is needed. He was happy for me to sleep in his bed before. Why this sudden need for separation? Is he angry at me for all the drama I caused? That would be fair enough, but why invite me back at all? Why the grand gesture and the fancy dinner?
This is all so confusing. I hate it. It is not at all what I want.
“Do you need anything else?” Tristan asks.
For you to kiss me and ravish me and make me feel wanted.I think, but thankfully I manage not to say it out loud. Instead, I simply huff out a, “No.”
“In that case, I will leave you in peace,” says Tristan.
And just like that, he is gone and I’m all alone. Bastard.
My gaze settles on the pull cord that rings the bell for the servants. I need to get these stupid clothes off. But I wonder if I can do it on my own now?
A few minutes later, after fiddling with a sash and arguing with some laces, I’m finally naked and I managed it all by myself. It is a ridiculous thing to feel proud about. Even so, I’ll take it. I need all the cheering up I can get.
I am feeling far too despondent to shower, so I simply flop on the bed. The furs are soft and warm. Lying here naked is wonderfully comfortable. Just a little lonely. Which is infuriating. I’ve been alone my entire life, and I was perfectly fine with it, thank you very much. Just because some asshole decided to snuggle me in his bed for a short while, doesn’t mean I need to get all weepy about it.
I sigh heavily and try to pull myself together. I still think I have made the right decision. As soon as I walked into Tristan’s rooms, it was like a weight lifted off my shoulders. This place even smells right. It feels like I belong here. So that’s all good.
And Tristan is going to do things to me at some point. It is the whole reason I’m here. His pet and his vessel. That’s what he said.
He wants my magic as well as my body. Which is great for me, for all sorts of reasons, including horny ones. But also because if I have to have regular sex with a fey, I want it to be him. No one else.
Oh god, that is so embarrassingly sappy. However, in my defence, better the devil you know, and all that, so actually I’m being sensible,not sappy.
Holy stars, this is impossible. I pick up a pillow, cover my face with it, and let out a quiet scream of frustration. It does nothing to help me.
Tristan said pet and vessel. He gave the impression that he wanted to do all sorts of depraved things to me, but perhaps he is bored of me and actually only wants me for my magic? That would explain the separate rooms.
My gaze keeps flicking to the not-so-secret door. Oh for flip’s sake. I’m waiting for him to come in, aren’t I? I’m hoping for it. Yearning for it. It is pathetic and I hate myself for it.
Well, screw him. I don’t need him. If he is going to keep me in luxury and not even make me work for it, then that is his loss. I’m just fine without him.
A little horniness won’t kill me. I move the pillow off of my face and glare down at my half-hard cock. Simply imagining Tristan opening that stupid door and striding in has got me in this state. Bloody bastard. Thankfully, I am not a full-blooded fey and I can sort myself out.
I bite my bottom lip. Okay, I can sometimes sort myself out. It takes hours, doesn’t always work and is always super frustrating. My own hand gets me hard easily enough, it is reaching any sort of conclusion that is elusive.
Damnit! If I start playing with myself now, I could very well only succeed in making things worse. It might be best to leave my cock alone and attempt to sleep instead.
I suck in a deep breath and let it out slowly. I should be exhausted. It has been a long eventful day, what with dinner in The Shard, and Tristan turning London off. Sleeping should be easy.
I close my eyes. Immediately, images of Tristan’s smiling face swirl before me.Give me your delicious cries andpleasure,he said. So where the hell is he? The far too handsome bastard is on the other side of the wall. Lying naked in his own bed. Ignoring me.
With a defeated groan, I wrap my fingers around my cock. My semi is clearly not going anywhere, so I might as well try to sort it out. There is a thin glimmer of hope that Tristan’s attentions have unlocked my sexuality and wanking will be easy now.
