CHAPTER SIXTEEN
BLEDDYN
Pleasuring this tiny human was so very different from what I had expected. I knew I had grown fonder of her than was wise, given the situation. But she had responded so beautifully to my caresses. When her climax had overtaken her, her body shivering and spasming beneath my tongue, it had taken everything I had to not ravish her right there and then.
Then she opened her eyes, clouded with passion, and my resistance had evaporated. I did not know what my liege planned for her. But I would protect her to the best of my ability.
My cock pulsed with desire for her, and as if she could feel how much I wanted her, her gaze wandered to where my manhood lay swollen inside my breeches.
There was a visible struggle on her face, one I recognized. She was equally wondering whether this was a mistake or whether she should take this further. The moment her hand reached out, tugging on the fabric of my pants, I knew she had decided.
Rolling to my back, I waited for her to take the initiative. Her climax had washed away any of her previous shyness. She scooted until she could reach easily, and then she opened the fastenings on the front of my garment. My cock sprang free, and I exhaled with relief. She tried to grip it, but it was too big for her to cover it with her fingers.
The angry, red head was weeping pearls of desire. She slunk lower and licked at it like a cat might lap up milk. Pulling my essence onto her tongue, she closed her eyes and moaned.
I wanted her to set the pace, so I gripped the mattress to prevent myself from grabbing and impaling her in one swoop. Her lips enveloped the head, and her tongue caressed the underside of my member. As if lightning had struck me, my balls tightened, already preparing for release.
“Stop,” I whispered as I pushed her away gently. When she looked at me, I the unspoken question in her eyes made me smile.
“No, you are not doing anything wrong. On the contrary. If you do not stop, I will not be able to hold on.”
She sat back on her haunches, her tiny breasts bouncing a little.
“Well, we can’t have that,” she said. My heart stuttered at the grin stretching her mouth. Quick as lightning, she straddled me, and without exposing any more of my body, she lowered herself onto my waiting cock. Despite my size, it slipped past her lips, penetrating her easily.
Halfway down, she stopped, thighs trembling with effort. “God, you’re big. Give me a mo’.”
I had no idea what a “mo” was, but in my defense, holding on to my urge to slam her down until I was fully buried, took all my concentration.
She wiggled, twisting her hips left and right, until she was able to slide down further. Her face turned red, and her eyebrows scrunched together as if she were in pain. I wanted to tell her to take it slowly—oh, she had probably meant to give her a moment to adjust—but before I could offer any words, her luscious bottom touched my breeches.
She was panting, staying still for long seconds. I watched her carefully for any signs of discomfort, but her forehead had smoothed out, and she gripped my shirt with both hands.
With a gasp, she lifted up and slammed her tiny body back down. All thoughts left my mind. My only focus was the point where our bodies connected. She was wet and so hot inside, it lit the torch of desire until I could not see straight.
She slipped up and down, her moans creating the counterpoint to my heartbeat, as if she had never done anything else. She was a perfect fit for me. My breathing came in short gasps, and soon, my climax was inevitable.
My seed rose inside my shaft as she rode me faster and faster. Giving into the urge, I grabbed her hips, directing her to where it felt best. The blush from her face spread to her chest, but unless I slowed it down, I would come before her.
I gripped her harder, encouraging her to rub her pleasure button against my thumb. The additional stimulation was all she needed. Her cunt contracted around me as she threw back her head and screamed out her climax for everybody to hear.
I felt stupidly pleased that others would know she was mine, and as her inner walls clenched one last time, my voice joined hers as I spilled into her, claiming her forever.
***
BETH
I fell asleep on Bleddyn’s chest, utterly exhausted. At some stage during the night, he took off the rest of his clothes and got back under the covers, enveloping me in his arms.
A knock broke our sleep before the sun had risen. Bleddyn sat up, immediately alert. “What is it?”
The innkeeper’s voice sounded through the wooden door. “Make haste. The prince will be here within the hour.”
Bleddyn faced away from me so I couldn’t make out his expression, but his shoulders tightened, and his back stiffened. When he turned around, his face was devoid of emotion.
“Let us get dressed and eat before we meet the prince.”
I was glad he assumed I didn’t want to meet Prys by myself. Today I might learn whether I had a family, and if there was a place for me here in Faerie. I might also finally learn where Luke and Kenzy had ended up.
I missed them like crazy. It had been such a shock when both of them had disappeared from the Academy, and an even bigger shock to discover they were kept captive in this realm.
If I played it right, the prince would surely be able to help me track them down. I glanced at Bleddyn, and my stomach lurched at the wave of guilt. Luke, Kenzy, and I had had an open relationship, so I knew they wouldn’t hold it against me if I found solace in somebody else’s arms.
But Bleddyn wasn’t aware of the other two. I’d never been in this situation, and maybe my lovers were already dead. My stomach twisted at the thought, and I drew a shuddery inhale to dispel the idea. The Fae warrior deserved to know about my baggage. I would tell him after meeting the prince.
Slipping out of the bed, I shivered when my bare feet hit the wooden floor. The rays of the rising sun floated through the window, but provided no heat yet. The day before, I’d dropped the new clothes on the ground. Last night, they’d been the last thing on my mind.
Damn. I’d forgotten how hideous that outfit was. I wasn’t exactly a fashion queen, but seriously? Shapeless and ugly, they weren’t fit to meet people in, never mind the royal family. But I had no choice. They were all I had, and I had neither time nor money to get better ones.
So I slipped on the rough-spun pants and shirt. Ignoring the scratchy fabric, I rubbed my stomach. If the prince was going to be here soon, I needed some warm food to anchor myself.
Bleddyn stepped up behind me, nuzzling his face against my neck. “Fear not. I shall be by your side.”
I leaned against his chest, grateful for the creature comfort. I didn’t trust him, but his words soothed the anxiety building up inside of me. When we left the room, he went down the stairs ahead of me, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.
We were the only guests at this hour of the morning, and Olwen had already set a table for us, complete with wooden bowls of steaming porridge.
I sat down and sniffed. It looked a lot more appetizing than the gruel I’d been offered in the last tavern. “What is it?”
Bleddyn picked up his spoon. “It is breakfast. Try it.”
I waited for him to put the porridge in his mouth. He didn’t gag, so it was probably safe. The sweet smell of honey helped my decision. When I took a bite, I moaned at the taste of roses, of jasmine, and honeysuckle. Floral without being obtrusive, sweet without being nauseating.
I finished my portion in record time, savoring the feeling of warm sustenance in my stomach. Halfway through, Olwen brought two jars full of steaming liquid.
“This is chai,” she said and placed the drinks in front of us.
The jugs contained a dark beverage, very similar to tea in my world.
Bleddyn waited until Mistress Olwen was out of earshot. “You will recognize this. It speaks of our common heritage.”
I took a sip and knew what he meant. My dad’s favorite restaurant had served Indian cuisine, and we’d often enjoyed masala chai. There was the same taste of sweet cardamom, cinnamon, cloves, and the spicy bite of black pepper, all tempered with hot milk. Smacking my lips, I marveled at how well the chai went with the porridge.
Now that my belly was full, I couldn’t wait to meet Prince Prys. Yet the more my mood lifted, the more Bleddyn’s soured. Gone were the easy smiles and glances from last night. He fidgeted, glancing at the door to the street with apprehension. His nervousness fed my anxiety until my good mood was evaporated.
And then the door opened, and a group of men entered. I dismissed them initially—they were probably customers, dressed in simple garments like me. To my surprise, Olwen curtsied to the ground.
“Prince Prys, welcome to my tavern. It has been too long.”
My head shot up. This was it. I’d expected an entourage, dressed in jewel colors or some sort of royal attire, befitting this realm. Bleddyn rose to his feet to greet his liege lord. The men spread out in a semi-circle, leaving the prince standing in the middle.
Prys was striking, his raven hair tumbling down his back, held by a silver clasp. There was a bird-like quality to his features, his eyes piercing and his beak nose sharp and prominent. His lips were thin, but well-shaped. Like all the Fae, he was incredibly handsome. But unlike the men surrounding him, he demanded attention, even if disguised like a peasant.
Prys lifted Olwen off the floor and kissed her on both cheeks.
“Get up, my dear servant.”
My eyebrows scrunched together. Servant? That’s what he called the woman who’d nurtured him as a baby and raised him as a child? Olwen didn’t seem to take offence and preened under the prince’s attention.
When Bleddyn faced his liege lord, his face had an unnatural stillness to it that gave nothing away. Prince Prys finally acknowledged him with a slight lowering of his chin, but his gaze was riveted on me. Scrutinizing me like a fly pinned down for the amusement of a spider, his expression was as impassive as Bleddyn’s.
“You must be the girl who claims to be my sister’s child. Of course, I shall not take your story at face value.”
I bristled at his words, but a glance from Bleddyn told me to stay respectful and keep my mouth shut. The prince pulled out a chair and sat down opposite me. I folded my hands and tried to look as meek and mild-mannered as I could. Mistress Olwen brought drinks and snacks for everybody without being prompted.
Prys locked his intense gaze on me as he took a sip of the mulled wine and a bite of the cake Olwen had placed before him. For my part, I kept my eyes trained on his face, examining his features for any semblance with my mother.
I had no memory of her, but my dad had had pictures of her all over the house. There was one I loved where she held me, and my dad had his arms around both of us. She’d been so full of love, and he’d looked fiercely protective. In the end, it hadn’t mattered. He’d lost her, and then I’d lost him as well.
I swallowed hard, hoping Prys wasn’t a mind reader. Those were memories I didn’t want to share.
The prince’s gaze intensified, and then he placed his mug down. “You looked very sad all of a sudden. Perchance your claim could be true, and you are my sister’s child.”
And then he smiled.
I choked on my breath, because there she was, my dead mother revealed in his features. Any doubt I’d had was gone. Prince Prys was my uncle, which made me the Lost Princess’s child.