They will never find out her secret. Not if I have anything to do with it.
I yank at the ties holding up my breeches as I scoot to the shadowed corner of the cell. The images of Lilyfair’s lush lips as she sews and the brilliance of her golden eyes are enough to harden my cock for her. Would her round cheeks be as soft as they look? My thoughts turn darker as I take my shaft in hand and press my tip to the bottom of the inside of the jar. What if I could jerk myself onto her cheek? Images of my seed running down the side of her face, along her neck, and pooling in that delicate place between her collarbones, have me jerking harder. My mind’s eye follows the drip over the curve of her breast to disappear inside her dress. The wheezy rasp of my voice sounds like her name to my ears…but hopefully not my host’s.
The force of my peak pushes the jar against the wall with a clatter. I have enough of my wits to rotate the container so it collects my bounty. The jar overflows. I raise it to my fingertips to allow the excess to pool in my palm. At least I hope that’s where it flows. I can’t open my eyes for fear that they will fly out with the force of my climax. My horns scrape against the wall when I’m finally finished, and I sag with exhaustion. I’ve never peaked so fast and hard in my life.
“Well, aren’t you the overachiever?” Marigold says with a smile that lights up his whole face when I present to him the full jar. He takes the jar from me and snaps the lid shut. I’m grateful for the second jar he produces from his pocket to smear the excess on my fingers into it. We agree that every drop must go to Lilyfair without uttering a word.
“Keep the secret and fill the jars. That’s all that’s required of you. I’ll have some parchment and a quill sent down before my visit next week. I’d like you to write three things I can give you to make your stay more comfortable. If you liked the spice cake Lilyfair demanded you try today, you should know that Sirius had a slice of chocolate cake with his morning oats every day.Those sorts of things are what I’m expecting you to put on your list.”
We exchange curt bows, and he marches out of the dungeon. My new friend, Marigold, is replaced by the regal king of the Fae with every step he takes. What shall I put on the list? Nothing like chocolate cake, that’s for sure. I’ve pleased my captor, so I must tread lightly to keep our new alliance. What I want are sunshine, open spaces, and more time with Lilyfair…preferably without her shapeless gown.
Or do I? She’s too sweet for the dark ideas floating around my head where I defile her in every way…while she screams my name and begs me to coat her in my scent. Yum, just like a hubull’s mate should… How will I face her innocence now that I’m consumed with the pride of her wearing my seed?
CHAPTER FIVE
LILYFAIR
“It’s not a good idea for a little girl like you to go into the dungeons,” Snapdragon sneers. “It’s unbecoming. What would your father say?”
“My father would say I’m following in his footsteps. He visited the same prisoner I intend to visit last night. I’m just practicing my duties for when I am queen.” I mustn’t roll my eyes, or I’ll never gain entry. What a nuisance to be blocked from an area of my own castle by someone who supposedly works for me!
All night I wrote questions I wanted to ask, so they don’t fall out of my brain once I lay eyes on him—like they did yesterday. Did I remember to bring it? I clutch the parchment within my sewing basket. After I learned from Rosemary about father’s visit to the hubull, I became more intrigued with the silent creature. The number of questions doubled. Why did my father visit him? What did he do to earn a life sentence in the dungeon…and a visit from the king?
If I don’t talk to him soon, I may burst.
“Sounds to me like it’s time you learned the difference between a king and a queen." He chuckles along with Poplarand Redwood, the actual dungeon guards on duty. Without war, Snapdragon has no purpose.
“And who do you suggest teach me such a lesson?” I pause to allow him to widen his lips into a smile; “because my father has rejected every proposal for my hand so far, including yours. So until such a prince becomes my betrothed, it’s safe to assume I will rule this kingdom alone or with my father looking on as King Regent.”
“You wouldn’t say such things if he stood beside us. He would demand to know why you are down here.”
“He would also demand to know why the captain of the army is in the dungeon instead of out on patrol. So tell on me, and I’ll tell on you too,” I say with a withering look. “Look, I’m going to sew in the hallway. I’ll be out of danger and everyone’s way. Go find someone who needs a hero, because I can manage without one.”
I pat the royal crest he wears over his heart and step around him. The other two guards snicker like schoolgirls until I glare in their direction. They may treat me like a child, but they know I have my father’s ear, and I won’t hesitate a second to drop them in it. Father disapproves of Snapdragon’s continued pursuit of my hand despite both of us refusing him. I don’t know my father’s reason, but I suspect it has something to do with the twenty-plus-year age gap. My reason is simple.
Snapdragon doesn’t like me.
I’m not so naïve as to believe in true love. There’s no prince in shining armor coming to sweep me off my feet. However, I would like my spouse to be someone who likes me—what I say, how I look, and what I think. Is it too much to ask to share the throne with a friend? When I imagine my future husband, he never rolls his eyes at my words or makes fun of my hobby. He’s interested, even if for no other reason than I’m interested, and he likes to see me happy. Of course, he will think I’m pretty—every Fae in Magmell is pretty—so no big deal there. But to find a male who finds me fascinating and worthy of a partnership…that’s my dream.
My happy thoughts occupy my mind until I’m at the hubull’s cage. They’ve stripped him of his leather harness and tight pants, replacing them with beige, linen pants that end halfway down his calf. It’s amazing how changing his clothes softens his appearance. He’s ripped the wooden frame off the wall that houses his window, so a cool breeze wafts through his cell. He sits in a pile of sawdust, concentrating on something engulfed by his large hands.
At least he’s too busy to prowl menacingly.
“Hello,” I call, and he startles at my voice. “I’m sorry to break your concentration, but I didn’t feel I should sneak up on you. Can I keep you company?”
He huffs at his project as he lifts his eyes to meet mine. Does my smile look crazed or something? What’s that look on his face? I bat at my cheeks and lick my teeth to make sure I don’t wear parts of my breakfast. Nothing of note. He jumps to his feet, spraying dust everywhere. Clutching his project to his heart, he leans against the bars to stare at me with a slack jaw.
His snout twitches.
Do I stink? I tilt my chin demurely to my right to sniff my shoulder. I smell nothing but my health cream. This jar is more pungent than usual, but Father explained it’s a more potent blend. He said something about needing more, now that I’ve become a woman. When I asked him to explain the disease that the skin cream cured, he danced around the question. I threw my hands over my ears after he told me my body was blossoming. My mind imagined the tree flowers that spit pollen all over the grounds, wishing my body developed such cannons.
And the hubull’s eyes rake up and down my body as my mind swirls with images of pollen cannons replacing my nipples.
Don’t think about your nipples! It makes them poke out!
Great, now they’re poking. The rasp of the thick lace bodice of my dress ignites little sparks on my chest. I cross my arms to hide them, but all the movement does is draw his gaze to them. As his eyes widen, I’m happy he can’t air his thoughts.
“Do I bother you?” I ask. When he shakes his head, I ask again. “I mean, do my visits bother you?”
