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“We’re all villains to someone.”
He chuckles.
“Will you tell me how you’re able to resist my magic? During your long life, you’ve had practice?”
“Maybe.” He fists my hair and speaks at my lips. “Does it turn you on that you have no control over me?”
“Yes,” I admit.
“That’s a good girl.” He dives back into the pool and grabs my feet to wind his leather belt around my ankles. He throws my legs behind his head, then resurfaces with my legs around his neck.
His cold palms part my thighs, thumbs spreading my pussy. He sticks out his tongue and licks.
“Oh my fate.”
“Mmmm,” he says, and licks again, making a noise with his mouth as if tasting a delicious meal. My body flares to life and my channel undulates painfully, expelling heat out of my opening as if serving him a feast.
Nottuza smirks and swipes his thumb across my opening, collecting the liquid. He watches me as he puts his thumb in his mouth and sucks it. He pulls it out with a pop.
“How many spans until the winter season starts?” he asks.
“Thirteen.”
“Do you think you can save your orgasms until then?”
“Noooo.” I shake my head, and he presses his thumb against my clit.
“I can’t. I want to come right now.” I make my best sad-puppy face. “You wouldn’t want to keep me wanting for so long.”
“Oh, but I would.” He strokes my swollen bud.
My eyes flutter closed as he kisses my neck and lower yet, sucks on my breast. First the left, then the right. One finger strokes my clit and then dips inside my opening until I settle down off the high, then he’s back at my clit.
His other hand holds my throat, sometimes squeezing, sometimes content to control my body that way. He kisses me often and with abandon, and especially when I start begging for him to let me come, but no amount of begging will sway him, which only makes me want him more.
He’s denying me the most basic of pleasures. He makes me swear I won’t touch myself for the next thirteen spans. He wants to own my orgasms, my pleasure, and me. And by the time he’s done with me, I’m a mess of frustrated tears, which he licks from my cheeks.
He carries me to bed.
He watches over me while my eyes close for the night.
The last thing I see is a toy soldier on my nightstand.
22
FLEUR
Seven spans later
Waking up in the cold Winter Court with the scent of crushed lavender lingering in the room that the raging fireplace had already warmed up would be my favorite way to wake up if the male carrying the scent had visited me last night. Or any of the seven nights since our last encounter in the pool.
The sun’s position above the mountains tells me it’s early in the afternoon, too early for the Nightbound Soldier and his older vampires to be awake, but a perfect time for me and the event staff to make last-minute preparations for the masked ball that will start later in the night.
Many Unseelie families will attend tonight’s ball, and with the bachelors and bachelorettes of seven families already arrived and situated in rooms downstairs, that should bring the number of attendees over one hundred and thirty. A nice small party, perfect for warming up the folk for the winter season opening night.
The masked ball is the first of the events leading up to the season’s opening, an event I hope will attract over a thousand eligible fairies willing to mate. To hit that number of attendees in under a few spans, the masked ball must go smoothly and the fae must look the way the fates made us: drop-dead gorgeous so all the other eligible fairies who aren’t here decide they must come for the winter season.
The continuation of fae bloodlines depends on coupling. The neglect of mating customs and the absence of invitations from the Winter Court’s royals during the seasons has contributed to the distrust and even disdain of the Crown. But the Unseelie Crown will rest on a fair queen now, and since she’s brough me here for the season, I must ensure the Unseelie have a lovely time.
