“My apologies,master,” I offer, forcing my eyes to drop from his and doing my best to enact some semblance of humility and contrition.
I don’t feel it, I’m just trying to throw him off. He thinks he has me pegged. He has nothing. I tap into my training and shut down. I’ve spent years perfecting a hardened, impenetrable exterior; time to put it to good use even if it no longer serves the purpose I thought it would. The vital protection provided by my walls and masks was nothing more than an illusion. It was never going to guide me to freedom like I thought it would. The truth of that stings, but as I shed my reservations and unchain parts of me I’ve locked away and hidden for so long, I find myself feeling slightly liberated as opposed to damned, which is oddly...unexpected.
“Mmmmm,masterhas a nice ring to it,” Scorpius purrs at me.
I simply lift my unamused gaze back up to his and hold it for a beat before reaching for the ties of his pants. One by one, I begin to unlace his breeches like I haven’t a care in the world. Skull and Bones both snicker at themastercomment, but I don’t pay them any mind as I peel Scorpius’s leathers down his powerful thighs. I ignore the large cock that springs free entirely too close to my face as I bend down to pull the pants off of the skeleton’s calves and feet.
The glamour works over the entirety of his body, now that all of him is exposed to my eyes. I try not to stare at the ink-soaked skin of the thick member at the apex of his thighs or at the dark sack hanging just below it. Even the hair dusting his base and crawling up to his belly button is as black as raven feathers.
I rise from the ground, embracing the confident predator that I am, and hand the trousers to Harsh, who’s once again waiting with outstretched hands. Scorpius steps into the tub of warm water as I move to a side table that’s been set up to hold different soaps, oils, and shampoos. I pick up a rag that just might be the softest thing I’ve ever felt and a glass bottle with the outline of a body etched into it. Blade slaves aren’t supposed to be able to read, which means we’re given pictures on things to help interpret contents. I was surprised to find that I could read, several different languages in fact, but that’s another set of secrets that will go with me to the grave.
“So, Slave, tell me and my brothers why we should bid on you,” Scorpius orders as I turn back to him, soap and washcloth in hand.
He hasn’t dipped his body into the heated water like I expected him to do. Instead, he’s just standing there knee-deep in the tub, his entire body on display, ready and waiting for me to scrub him clean. I grab a hammered gold pitcher to use for rinsing, and when my eyes find Scorpius’s again, his soot black gaze turns raptorial.
“Be sure to be very convincing,Slave, this might be your only chance to impress us,” he tells me, his cock twitching at me like an excited pup at supper time.
I want to slap it down and laugh at his efforts to intimidate me. I’ve trained, bathed, and slept next to male blade slaves my whole life. Yes, I refused the training that taught me to fuck in order to kill, but that doesn’t mean a large dancing cock is going to fracture my delicate sensibilities. Clearly, he has no idea what goes on under the roof of Tilleo’s ludere.
I grab the base of Scorpius’s cock like we’re old acquaintances catching up after too much time has passed. I swear I hear a gasp of surprise escape his lips before Bones’s booming laugh covers it up. I use my grip on him to pull him closer to the edge of the tub I’m standing outside of, and then I release his member to wet the rag and apply soap to it. I pour warm water over his body with the pitcher, and then I start to methodically wash his body as though I’ve trained my whole life to clean arrogant fae instead of assassinate them.
When I don’t immediately speak up to answer the lude and thinly veiled question posed to me by this pompous prick, Harsh’s assured voice fills the tent.
“I am at the top of this crop of blade slaves, masters. I wield swords as though they’re an extension of my arms, killing with precision and great skill. I would serve the Order of Scorpions proudly, bringing great honor to you and your house. I am one of the best hunters this ludere has created, earning my rank through training and tests, not on my knees…or my back.”
My silver gaze slices over to Harsh at his insinuation. Unable to help myself, my eyes narrow at the unfounded cheap shot he just took. He’s correct in boasting about being one of the best here. Only Leto tops his skill and kill tally. What he doesn’t know is that when I put in the effort, not even Leto matches me. Then again, only I know that. Guess it’s good for Harsh that I always leashed my efforts.
I dismiss Harsh’s insinuation, promising myself that I’ll address his unfounded slight later, and focus back on the fae’s body beneath my hands. Silence fills the tent again after Harsh’s pitiful efforts to ingratiate himself. I want to scoff, but I choke it down. Begging these three to bid on any of us is a waste of breath from air-starved lungs. If theyarethe three from that night in Dorsin’s office, they’re as empty as the masters have trained us to be here at the ludere. If they’renotthe skeletons from my nightmares, then they’re still members of the Order of Scorpions, a house that has never bid on a blade slave and more than likely never will. All of this is a waste of time, and Tilleo has already guaranteed that I don’t have much of that left.
Scorpius’s muscles are unyielding beneath my touch as I circle soap over his skin. His glamour plays with my eyes, but my hands tell me the full story about just how deadly these Scorpions are when they want to be. They’re playing with me and Harsh now, but just like their namesake, they could sting at any moment, and I have no doubt that a brush with them would be lethal.
My senses warn that there are too many eyes on me as I streak suds over Scorpius’s abs. I reach behind him, spreading his cheeks so I can thoroughly scrub in between the globes of his ass. He suddenly jerks away from me, his heavy gaze narrowing at my efforts.
“My apologies, master, I thought I was towashyou?” I ask with faux confusion and a vapid tone.
Skull and Bones both cover their enjoyment at Scorpius’s expense with well-placed bony hands over their mouths. While they hide their smirks, it does little to hide their titters, and I have to work hard to keep a grin from stretching across my own face at their unexpected giggles.
“I’m good there,” Scorpius snaps, reclaiming the space in front of me from his retreat so I can finish with the rest of him.
As I start again, my thoughts wander to Leto. I begin to compare this fae’s body with his. Maybe it’s because Leto is the only other person I’ve had my hands on like this, but it’s interesting to indulge in the differences between them. Either way, I quickly tabulate that Scorpius is taller and wider, but they both carry hard, unforgiving muscle under their smooth scar-free skin. It makes me wonder what the Order of Scorpions’ training regime is like to keep them as fit as us blade slaves. Surprisingly, it also makes me wonder what this fae would feel like pumping into my slick heat. Would he be just as fast and eager as Leto, or has time and experience taught him that there’s more to it all than the race to the finish? Or so I’ve heard Paryn claim a time or two.
“And what about you, Slave, are you thecreamof the crop too? Why should we bid on you and bring you into the fold of the Order of Scorpions?” Skull asks as he strides past me, fully naked, and climbs into the gold bathtub behind me. I don’t know when he stripped down, but I have the desire to get my hands on his body now too, if only to note the differences and allow my hands to see past his glamour of course.
I drop to my knees as I begin to wash Scorpius’s corded thighs and calves, doing my best to give the three self-important assassins the show they’ve been nudging for. I’ll never truly get on my knees for the reasons they want, but I can tell by the way Scorpius licks his skull-glamoured lips, that he’ll at least spend some time tonight imagining me just like this.
Dream on, little bug.
I wrap my soapy hands around Scorpius’s shaft and begin to squeeze and twist as I expertlycleanhim. I glance behind me at Skull, who’s now leisurely sitting in the tub, his eyes hungrily taking in each twist and stroke of my hands like it’s him I’m playing with and not his fellow skeleton in arms. There’s a power to this that I didn’t anticipate feeling. I’ve always enjoyed playing with Leto and allowing him to play with me, but this is different.
This feels more potent and heady. Even more surprising, I have to admit, I don’t hate it. There’s something to the vulnerability here, to the transference of power. Especially from fae like these three. They’re killers. Life destroyers. I know I’m prey in their eyes, but being prey has never felt so intoxicating, so...promising. They’re playing, but so am I, and it’s yet to be determined who will come out on top.
I finally decide to answer Skull’s question as I slowly work my hands up Scorpius’s cock and then back down. I keep my tone even and unfazed, and I catch Scorpius’s flash of irritation as I treat what I’m doing to him as no big deal and instead engage Skull in casual conversation.
“You won’t choose me no matter what my record in the ludere boasts,” I tell Skull, liking the smirk my answer coaxes from his lush lips.
“And why is that?” Bones asks huskily from where he’s lying shirtless on his pallet.
Is he stroking himself?
