Instead, I rested my head closer to his chest, using the dark leather of his tunic to hide my face, playing into the coy girl I was supposed to be. Every inch felt wrong, coy was not in my nature. I was many things but being compliant had never been one of them.
It is interesting what the threat of slow, torturous murder by a werewolf would do to a person.
“Well then, let's eat,” Magnus announced as he settled back into his large chair, lined with furs and pelts, his own throne of grandeur.
I turned, looking for my own chair, but found no empty seat. Frustrated, I took in a deep breath, waiting for Rhael to sit before I placed myself directly into the lap of the feared Fae King. If the wolves wanted a show, I was going to give them a fucking good one.
Dinner was brutal, not from violence but from the silent mental torture I endured. Every time Rhael moved he made sure to brush a hand over my skin, whether it was through the leather dress or underneath the slit on my thigh. It was constant, performative, intimate.
I tried my best to reciprocate. I moved my fingers, so they skimmedacross the exposed skin of his arms, or lingered on his chest for a moment too long.
It was a delicate dance both of us were losing ourselves in, and somewhere between touches I felt the undeniable hardness of the Fae King's cock pressed against the curve of my ass. Igniting lightning through me, tempting me to test how far I could push him before he snapped.
Testing my theory, I shifted my weight from side to side, pressing my ass into his crotch in one smooth motion. I heard the breath hiss from between his teeth as his hands gripped against my hips, stilling my movement. I smirked, enjoying the power that I held.
For once in my life, I was in a situation where I could control it, in a game at first I had not wanted to play. I knew it would not last, that when we left the hall and no one was watching I would return to the role of slave, but for now the idea that I could even have an ounce of autonomy, gave me more pleasure than a man's touch ever could.
“You test my patience,” Rhael whispered, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear sending shivers down my spine. I didn't respond, instead I pushed back again welcoming his touch knowing we were being watched. Adding to the performance, I arched my back, laying my head against his shoulder, playing into the heat of the moment.
Sensing my willingness to play the game Rhael smirked, his hand coming up to wrap around my throat as his fingers slipped beneath my leather dress.Edging up my thigh forcing them open until he found the heat that waited for him.
I could only bite my lip to stifle the moan that threatened to escape me. My hips rocking forwards into his hand as he continued to pump his fingers inside of me. I could feel the tension coiling inside me, the way my body was growing wetter and more needy with every stroke of his fingers.
Rhael chuckled as his teeth nipped at the sensitive spot where my neck met my shoulder, as he continued to work my body to its peak. My body coiled tighter and tighter, my temperature rising as the room faded away. The only thing I cared about was the release.
“I suggest you come quietly unless you want all the wolves to hear you.” Rhael whispered with another chuckle. The moment his words left his mouth I tumbled over the edge, waves of pleasure crashing over me, as I rode out the waves of the first orgasm given to me in years.
“My old friend, she keeps you on your toes. It is entertaining.” Magnus chuckled, lifting a cup of mead to his lips. I felt a blush breaking out over my skin as the room came back into focus. Realising that despite my silence every wolf in the room was acutely aware of what had happened, and the way my come still lingered on the Fae King’s fingers.
Before Rhael could respond, a plate of food was served before him. I looked up to see Eirik standing there. Hegave me a sheepish, knowing smile. I wanted the ground to swallow me whole, however some part of me relished in it. I had taken control, earned it.
Once again, I noticed the way Eirik’s hand lingered on Magnus’ arm. It wasn't entirely different to the touch I had used on Rhael.
I narrowed my eyes watching them, not out of displeasure but curiosity. They seemed exceptionally close and I wondered if there was something more to it.
Rhael’s cough pulled me back from my thoughts about the two wolves as he demanded my attention. Picking up one of the small items from the plate and holding it to my lips.
Choosing to feed me first as his other hand splayed over my thigh, his fingers dangerously close to the line of my underwear. Magnus’ eyes watched us, an approving smirk lingering on his lips as I opened my mouth accepting the sweet tasting item from Rhael’s fingers.
Conversation rolled like thunder around us, reports of raids, of bodies found pale and broken. Noctharis was named openly as an enemy here, spoken with contempt and fury.
I did not comment, I did not know enough, and besides, Rhael kept both my mouth and mind busy with small treats and his wandering hands. He was getting revenge for my earlier actions, and I knew part of him enjoyed my compliance for this one time.
Instead, I tried to listen, to take in names and faces, holding them in my brain. Rhael had been right, people didn't notice me watching them.
Whenever they looked up, their gaze had always lingered on Rhael or Magnus. I was insignificant, not a wolf in this room believed I would hold any use whatsoever. So, I sat in Rhael’s lap, playing the part of a lovesick fool while I took in information.
Nothing stood out as concerning or hateful towards Vaetharyn. In fact, some were even pleased the Fae King had returned to help.
“I know I told you we would wait until morning to discuss, however I wanted to tell you I have decided to join your cause. In the name of both our kingdoms and an old friendship,” Magnus smirked holding up his mug of mead and beneath me, I felt Rhael relax.
“I am glad. May this be the start to a prosperous alliance.” he responded, his eyes lighting up with something I would have called pride.
I found myself watching him for a moment longer than necessary. Seeing the lines of his face, usually so dark and calloused, turned into something that was almost boyish.
It was clear he was glad the Wolf King had agreed to help him, that his old friend still lingered despite years of tension and mistrust.
By the time the hall began to empty, the tension inside of my body had eased. It had not vanished, but I no longer wanted to curl up into a ball and hide within myself.
