My heart pounds. Oh shit. That doesn’t sound necessary for a BJ. Maybe he does want something else.
“This is a terrible idea!” I manage to say. It is a bit on the squeaky side, but it is words. In the right order.
The prince gives me a questioning look.
“I just ate a shit ton of food,” I point out.
A very reasonable thing to draw attention to, if you ask me. But then I go and ruin it by blushing. Spectacularly, by the feel of it.
The prince’s ruby eyes fix on my heated cheeks and the bastard grins. A huge, delighted, smug grin that would make the Cheshire Cat jealous.
“I’m going to make you feel so good,” he drawls.
Another squeak type sound escapes me. “No…no thank you!” Oh my stars. This asshole has me so flummoxed that I’m being polite.
His eyes darken. Mirth morphs into a predatory lust. His antlers are casting a twisting shadow on the wall behind him. He looks every inch like a dangerous, malevolent creature from the old tales.
“You like it when I kiss you,” he preens.
And just like that, something inside me snaps. Rage is ignited. Its inferno burns away all of my fear. My muscles spring into action. I have one goal in mind. And one goal only. His balls. I’m going to kick him so hard his grandchildren will be born bruised.
I attack, but my victim moves. Holy smokes, he is fast. I try again, and then again. He tries to grab me, but I swerve. We tussle, and then it is all over.
I am on my back, on the bed. He is on top of me. A reversal of when we met. A twisted reenactment of my assassination attempt.
I glare up at him. He smiles down at me like the god of smugness. An effigy radiating heat and weight. Pressing down on me and forcing me to feel all sorts of nameless things.
His hand moves and now he is pinning my wrists above my head with just one of his stupidly strong hands. His now free one moves down to my hair and twists. He angles my head. He starts leaning down. I try squirming, but I can’t move at all.
My breath hitches. “Don’t you dare fucking kiss me!”
He pauses, inches from my face, and chuckles. He is so close that his warm breath tickles over my face.
“How about a deal?” he drawls.
“A deal?” I repeat mindlessly.
Somehow, his already shit-eating grin intensifies even more. He nods towards a bedside cabinet and I follow his gaze to a beautifully carved hourglass.
“It measures a ghurry, twenty-four of your human minutes.”
Okay, strange time for a cultural exchange, but whatever.
“You lie still and be a good boy, and if I haven’t made you cum by the time the sand runs out, I’ll let you go.”
Oh my stars. Nevermind a fright short-circuiting my mind, apparently dirty talk can have the same effect. This is terrible. I can’t fall apart again. I have to pull myself together. Focus. My captor is saying filthy stuff, but it is still a deal. I need to think.
My eyes narrow. “Let me go, as in, set me free?”
I’m not stupid enough to fall for a fey trick. Letting me go could mean simply releasing my hands so I can get off this damn bed.
Ruby red eyes flash. “Yes.”
My stomach flips right over. This is exactly the type of perverted deal a fey would offer. It is what they are known for. Curdling milk. Stealing babies, and being randy motherfuckers.
“I will only use my lips and tongue, no toys, and nothing…else.”
I swallow and the sound hangs in the small space between us.
