The plane rumbles in pleasure.
There you go,I think.
He says nothing as I guide his palm to cup her wet pussy. The fae moans.
“One finger, first,” I say.
We sit between her legs, side by side. The violet of the king’s eyes flickers, darker then lighter, as he gets to working her. Perhaps powerful creatures react like this. Perhaps I am one of them now. As he slides a finger inside her, I brush his thumb over her clit. The magenta lover shivers.
But Maxian grinds in his thumb.
“Lighter,” I say, pulling it back. “Softer. That’s how you build, and you have to build until she’s ready to burst.”
He turns his face to mine, inches apart. “And then?”
“Then you go harder.”
When he drops lips to my shoulder, I let him, eyes slipping closed. It’s easier to see who I want this way.
“Open your eyes,” he demands. “I want to see the gold.”
I blink, swaying. “It’s the candlelight.”
“It’s your strength.”
This is getting away from me; he’s getting away. I can’t allow it. I nod to the fae grinding against his hand, his thumb pressing her clit and finger pushing in. The plane feels hot, heavy like smoke.
“Another finger,” I say. “She can take it.”
The fae whimpers, arching her back. Her breasts push up into the air, and she is a glorious sight, even if she isn’t mine.
“And what are you going to do?” he whispers back.
I slide away from him, crawling across the mattress. His attention is heavy on me, but I need the distance.
“What are you doing?” the fae gasps, pulling back her arm. My thighs bracket her face, and I look down at her.
“This.”
My fingers wrap gently around her neck again, tilting her chin back so that she can see only me. Then I lean down and kiss her. I kiss her through her gasps, through her heaving chest, hand still cupping her chin so she can’t see what he’s doing.
“Apple?” I ask, pulling back.
She yanks on my hair, bringing me down again.
I kiss her as I watch the king, kneeling between her thighs,stroking her how I say. I kiss her as he watches me over the body between us. I kiss her as he grabs himself with his free hand and works himself, works her at the same time. I kiss until my eyes droop closed.
“Look. At. Me,” he grits out, and I do with my strange, glowing eyes, and my sinking heart, my body rocking against the mattress, nothing beneath it, my mouth claiming another lover who never really was mine, and I should not like this, no one should, stealing others.
But I do.
As the plane undulates, as the beautiful fae writhes, I swallow her cries, pet her hair, tell her how perfect and pretty she is, my little slut, listen to them both groan. I do not stop claiming her, watching him, uttering things that make them thrust harder into his hands, both swept away in a wave I conjured.
Candles drop from the ceiling, the plane sings, my spring scent all around us, until finally, finally, the fae lets out a scream, back arched, and the king doubles over, spilling onto his hand.
I sit back, wiping my mouth as they pant. With another faerie, I would want my due, seek repayments, matching release for release, just as how Jae and I stole prospects from under each other. Normally, he would be right: It would not be enough.
But here, with the High Fae undone and powerless under me, my pride soars. I slip off the mattress, fix my hair. The king stares down at his sticky palm, confused. When he looks up with wild eyes, chest expanding, he struggles.
