Time passes and slowly I realise that I’m standing slightly behind Llywelyn as he stands in a semi-circle with his brothers. A proud line of royalty standing just outside of the stone circle. Magnanimously observing the celebrations. Aloof and separate.
Llywelyn really looks like a sun-god. A golden prince. All white and gold with impressive antlers. Dangerous, powerful and ethereal.
EvenIam struggling to believe that an hour ago he was on his knees for me. Taking my cock and whimpering. Cumming hands-free, just from blowing me and my hold on his antlers.
With a great deal of effort, I pull my gaze away from my prince and look out at the festivities.
My eyebrows rise. People aren’t just dancing anymore. A fair few have paired off and are turning things into an orgy. It seems the fey really know how to party.
I cast a quiet glance around the princes. Their expressions haven’t changed at all. Even Jamie, Blake and Ollie look unphased. I guess they have been at court long enough to have becomeaccustomed to public sex and debauchery. I wonder how long it will take me?
As I turn back to the jubilant celebrations, I notice Mabon tapping his foot in time to the music. Out of all the brothers, he is the one I can picture wishing to join in. Even though Llywelyn claims that Mabon is madly in love with Blake.
My gaze flicks to Blake. He isn’t watching the orgy. He is watching Mabon. With such a soft and adoring look in his eyes, it makes my heart flutter.
I’ve never been in love. I’ve never been interested in it before. But now I’m wondering what it would be like. It sounds scary and wonderful all at the same time.
My thoughts are scattered by Prys dancing breathlessly up to us. His sapphire hair is softly curling and gently gleaming, sparkling with a thousand small diamonds. His dark eyes are glinting with mischief. He is an attractive bastard, I have to give him that. As much as I hate to admit it.
He looks at Llywelyn. Right in the eyes. For far longer than anyone in public ever does. Llywelyn’s back stiffens. Then Prys’s dark gaze slides off him and settles on Dyfri.
“Join me, Rhocyn! Let us give our seed to the goddess!”
Dyfri smiles sweetly. “You flatter me, your Grace. But I’m not one for dancing.”
Prys smiles. Slow and insidious. Like a magnet it somehow pulls people in. Dancers drift closer and then fall still. Panting, and gulping down water, and watching intently.
“Come now, Rhocyn. Spilling for the goddess under the Beltaine moon brings good luck and fortune. Are you saying you have enough of both?”
A giggle skips around the watching audience. Contagious and spreading.
Dyfri’s smile widens. It turns flirtatious. “I’m saying that people get what they deserve.”
He says it so lightly that it takes my mind a moment to hear the threat. My hand flies up to my mouth to cover my snort laugh.
Prys’s dark eyes flash dangerously. I can see him calculating, assessing, planning. The watching crowd is waiting with bated breath to hear how he is going to reply.
Shit. Dyfri isn’t going to have to do this, is he? Public sex with Prys, in front of his brothers? That’s got to be traumatic. Far too similar to the event that made him a rhocyn.
I can’t figure out what Prys’s game is. Is he plotting Dyfri’s downfall? Removing a brother from the board? Or is the game to mess with Llywelyn’s head? Whatever the motive, the action is vile.
Working with this asshole is going to be the death of me. It is going to destroy my last shred of integrity.
“Wise words,” grins Prys. “All the more reason to appease the goddess, a prayer for her to be lenient in her judgment.”
Llywelyn leans closer to Selwyn. They are already standing next to each other, so the movement is subtle, but I catch it, nonetheless.
“Do something and I will owe you a favour!” Llywelyn hisses quietly.
Selwyn gives no sign that he has heard, but suddenly he steps forward, out of line and towards Prys.
“I’ll dance with you!” he says brightly. “I could do with some fun and everyone has heard that you are good at taking big cocks!”
Laughter erupts. Cruel, delighted, and mocking.
Prys’s jaw drops open and his face pales as he stares at Selwyn.
The brown-haired prince takes Prys firmly by the upper arm and starts dragging him towards the stone circle. Pry’s feet stumble over the grass and I can almost see his mind frantically whirling, desperately trying to figure out how to politely turn down a prince.
