Fae Mates Page 7

“We didn’t have anywhere else to hide him,” said McVittie. “As soon as they know he’s missing, the academy will be crawling with guards.”

  “Who will want to search my home,” he said in a hard voice.

  My chest tightened at the memory of the guards trying to bully Pokeweed because of his appearance. In his position, I wouldn’t want them traipsing around my haven, either.

  McVittie crossed the room and bounded up the staircase that spiraled around the tree’s interior. “But you can section somewhere off to hide the prince, can’t you?”

  Pokeweed rubbed his temples. “I will take him to the highest level and erect a barrier.”

  “It’s alright.” I stepped forward, cringing under his gaze and feeling like an asshole for assuming he already knew this part of McVittie’s plan. “I can drag him up the stairs with this enchanted harness.”

  Without a word, Pokeweed turned on his heel and headed toward the doorway. I squeezed my eyes shut, guilt gnawing at my heart.

  This was such a bloody mess. Pokeweed and I had become physically close during our flying lessons, close enough to warrant McVittie’s chaperoning, but we couldn’t be together.

  I desperately needed to break Lady Gala’s hold over the princes and to break Pokeweed’s curse, but it looked like I might end up breaking Pokeweed’s heart.

  As he stepped out of the door, a shard of pain cut through my heart. It hadn’t meant to be like this. The plan had been so straightforward. Secure all four princes as my mate and obtain the wishbone, but each day in Pokeweed’s tree deepened my admiration for the faerie, I wasn’t sure what I felt anymore.

  “Come along,” said McVittie. “It’s a long climb, and I’ll expect His Highness will want breakfast.”

  As I nodded, my gaze dropped down to Prince August’s erection, which looked strangulated. If I didn’t do something to ease the swelling, it would probably rupture.

  At the top of the stairs, I bent over double, bracing my arms on my thighs. Sweat dripped off my brow onto the wood.

  “What are you doing?” asked the cat.

  “Those three months of unconsciousness has made me unfit.”

  “You need a magical top-up.” McVittie flicked his head to Prince August.

  I bit down on my lip. It was bad enough to truss a guy up, kidnap him, and drag him to another guy’s lair, but to ask him for a bit of magic by way of a blow job? I shook my head.

  McVittie hissed. “Remember the plan!”

  “Alright,” I whispered. “But in my own time, alright?”

  The cat shook his head, his tail twitching with annoyance.

  “Right then.” I turned to Prince August, whose muscular chest rose and fell with his rapid, panting breaths. At some point, after I’d secured him to the bed, I would remove the sack from his head so he could breathe easy. Wrapping an arm around his wrist, I said, “Let’s get you out of that throne.”

  “Hmmm!” He reared up and slammed his shoulder against my chest, shoving me hard enough onto the handrail that it splintered under my weight with a massive crack.

  “Unity!” McVittie cried.

  The wood gave way. I overbalanced and fell off the ledge. Terror spiked through my chest, pumping adrenaline to my arms and legs and wings, which flailed about until I grabbed one of the broken spindles that had supported the rail.

  McVittie rushed to the edge of the mezzanine. “Hold tight. I’ll get Pokeweed.”

  “He’s not going to get here in tim—” With a loud snap, the spindle broke, and I plummeted through the air.

  The cat screamed, and cold terror raced through my veins, turning my blood to sludge. As I plummeted, air rushed into my ears, and I clenched my teeth, forcing all my attention into my wings.

  If these good-for-nothing appendages didn’t flap hard enough to support my weight, they would die alongside me.

  My surroundings turned to a kaleidoscope of colors—brown and green and white-hot panic, and the fall seemed to last forever. My wings made one pathetic flap, which slowed my descent. Then a stronger flap had me drifting down at a less neck-breaking rate.

  “Come on,” I snarled. “Fly!”

  The muscles between my shoulders burned with the effort of supporting my weight, but I pushed on, making them flap harder, faster, until I hovered in the air.

  “You’re doing it!” McVittie’s voice echoed from up high. “Now, go higher.”

  “No,” I said through panting breaths. “They’re about to give up.” I slowed down my wings strokes and let myself drift down.

  By the time my feet reached the cool, mossy floor, my leg muscles had become so weak, they couldn’t support my weight. I fell onto my hands and knees, my insides trembling, and collapsed into a fit of gasping breaths.

  Relieved tears dripped down into the carpet of moss. The fall had been bloody awful, but I had survived. I tilted my head up and glowered up to the top. It was so high up, I couldn’t see McVittie’s little, black head.

  “Are you alright?” he shouted.

  “Yes.” My voice shook, but I didn’t care if Prince August heard.

  This little brush with death was just the reminder I needed that this business was deadly serious. If I didn’t find a way to break Prince August’s curse and free the other princes from Lady Gala, everyone from King Oberon to the lowliest human on the Isle of Fae was doomed to the machinations of the Duke of Nevermore.

  By the time I climbed up to the top floor, determination powered my steps, and I was no longer out of breath. Prince August had removed the sack from his head and stared at me with a look of defiance that made my palms itch with the urge to slap.

  Even though the harness had pulled his arms behind his back and the cock-ring squeezed his erection to a raging, quivering hardness beyond human endurance, he stood with proud dignity, ready to attack.

  “If I remove your ball gag, will you lunge at me again?” I asked.

  He didn’t respond.

  “Fine,” I said to McVittie. “We’ll leave him here to think about the dangers of trying to murder his captor and come back tomorrow when he’s hungry and more willing to behave.”

  “Hmmm!” Prince August grunted.

  I placed my hands on my hips. “What does that mean?”

  His scowl deepened, and he grunted again.

  “Will you get on that bed and let me secure your arms and legs?”

  Prince August stilled, and he glanced at the bed before turning back to me with calculating eyes. In his position, I would weigh up the benefits of having the gag removed with being tied to the bed.

  He shook his head.

  “Have it your way, then.” I walked backward toward the stairs.

  Prince August’s green eyes flashed. “Hmmm!”

  “You want me to take off your gag?”

  He nodded and sat on the edge of the bed.

  “Lie down,” I said.

  He shook his head.

  “I think that’s the best we’ll get out of him,” said McVittie.

  “Fine.” I took a tentative step toward Prince August. “If you’re thinking of shoving me over the edge again, don’t bother. I’ll only fly back and punish you.”

  He raised a blond brow in an expression of disbelief, but I ignored it and knelt at his feet. Grabbing one ankle, I pulled it to one side and pulled out a metal ring, which I secured to the floor. Then, I positioned myself between his spread legs, shoved the other ankle aside, and secured it, too.

  Prince August’s huge dick stood to attention with streams of precum spilling from his slit, gathering in his nest of golden pubes and over his plump balls. Saliva flooded my mouth, but I swallowed it back. Even though I needed his spunk to complete my magic, I couldn’t touch him without his consent.

  Elijah’s multiple violations still festered in the back of my mind, and it was a pain I would wish on no one, not even my worst enemy.

  After rising to my feet, I mounted the bed and unclipped the ball gag from around his face.

  “Un
ity Quayle,” he snarled. “We burned your body and fed your ashes to the knuckers.”

  I stepped back and placed a hand over my chest. My throat thickened at the thought of my three princes rejoicing at my death, but I reminded myself that they had been acting under a curse.

  “Did you ever perform the ritual to reach Helen in Dubnos?” I asked.

  He scoffed. “To rescue the magic-less wench who slandered our beloved? I wished we had so we could throw her in the fire, too.”

  “You’re under a curse,” I said.

  He glanced around the mezzanine. “If this is some kind of threat—”

  “The Duke of Nevermore used his mate’s magic for a loyalty spell to make you fall in love with Lady Gala,” I said.

  His eyes bulged. “Now, you’re slandering the only man who has ever been a father to us?”

  Nausea rose from the pit of my stomach, and I clapped a hand over my mouth. Hadn’t the duke’s magic centered around making the princes fall in love with Lady Gala?

  “This is far worse than I thought,” said McVittie.

  “Your Highness?” My voice shook. “Who’s going to rule the country after you’ve all mated with Lady Gala?”

  He tossed his head. “The beloved father of our mate, who else?”

  Chapter 8

  All thoughts of wrapping my lips around Prince August’s dick melted away, replaced by the blank horror of the extent of the curse that had affected him and his brothers.

  Tearing my gaze from the erection between the prince’s legs, I glanced at McVittie, who stared back at me, wide-eyed. A question trembled on my lips, but I didn’t dare to ask. I’d lost Mom to a terrible wasting sickness, and the plight of Dad was unknown. No force of magic in this world would turn me against them—ever.

  McVittie jumped onto the bed and stared up at Prince August. “Your Highness, the Duke of Nevermore isn’t in the royal line of succession.”

  He stuck his nose in the air and sniffed. “When Gala becomes the queen, she’ll be free to appoint anyone to rule alongside her.”

  I sat back on my heels, chewing my bottom lip. What did I know about royal loopholes? It was rare for high faeries to consort with humans, much less educate us on their ways. But there was one thing I did know, and I dreaded Prince August’s answer.

  “The Isle of Fae already has a king and queen,” I said to gauge his reaction.

  A sly smirk curved his lips.

  I glanced back at McVittie, who pressed the pad of his paw to his bent head, as though staving off the beginnings of a headache.

  “Now.” Prince August’s legs widened. “Since you went to all this trouble to abduct me, you may as well commence the milking.”

  “What?”

  A smug grin crossed his lips. “My brothers told me of your proclivity for royal semen. Apparently, you can’t get enough of it.”

  “That’s not why I brought you here,” I snapped.

  “I expect you want to complete the set.” He bucked his hips, making the purple appendage bob up and down. “Go on. Suck me dry, and I’ll be on my way.”

  Blood swirled around my pounding temples, turning the edges of my vision red. No matter how many times I reminded myself that Prince August was suffering under a curse, I couldn’t shake off the anger at someone so callously smirking about replacing their parents with a murdering asshole and his spoiled daughter.

  At this moment, I would rather choke on dust than on that big, fat cock, so it was time to ease his torment and remove the cock ring.

  “Allow me.” I reached between Prince August’s legs for the silk-encased ring of iron.

  He leaned back, resting his weight on his palms and groaned.

  “Don’t damage him,” said McVittie.

  “Prince August is uncomfortable,” I replied. “This is the least I can do for him.”

  “Yes,” he drawled, opening his legs further and giving me a magnificent view of a pair of balls lightly covered in golden hairs.

  I reached down to the base of his erection, where the cock ring held him in a strangulated grip and eased the device up his shaft. The metal stretched a little within its silken sheath, but it kept getting caught on the bulging veins running along the thick appendage.

  “That feels good,” he said with a little shudder. “Now, use your mouth.”

  “Quiet,” I snapped.

  The cock-ring wouldn’t budge, so I slid it down his shaft and then up again until it got stuck at a higher point. Throughout this, Prince August panted as though I was giving him the wanking of his life.

  “Now, do it faster,” he murmured.

  Not paying him a scrap of attention, I pushed the ring further up his shaft and ignored the heat pulsing through my core.

  “What are you doing?” asked McVittie.

  “Trying to get the ring off,” I said. “What does it look like?”

  “From where I’m sitting, it looks like you’re trying to get him off,” muttered the cat.

  After a fair amount of jerking and twisting and up-down motions, I worked the ring up beneath his cock-head, where it once again got stuck.

  “Naughty human,” he said under his breath. “Performing the darkest of magic just to get your filthy hands on my sword.”

  I pursed my lips. How on earth had I pulled the cock-ring from Prince Caulden’s erection when he had trapped me in his sphere of ice? The Winter Prince had appeared terrified at the sight of the ring, but his brother seemed to enjoy every slip of my fumbling hands.

  His chest rose and fell like a pair of out-of-tune bellows, and his hips made little jerking movements that made the ring slide in the wrong direction.

  Huffing out an annoyed breath, I gripped him hard around his shaft, which was now slippery with precum. “Hold still.”

  As I tried to ease the ring from beneath Prince August’s oversized cock-head, his hip thrusts increased in range and speed. Before I knew what was happening, he was pumping himself back and forth against my closed fist.

  With a yowl, McVittie leaped off the bed and ran halfway down the stairs, leaving me alone with the sexually frustrated prince.

  “Keep still.” I wrapped the fingers of my other hand around his cock-head, trying to twist the ring off, trying to jerk it from side to side, but it wouldn’t budge.

  “Oh, my lord.” His face was slack, and his eyes glazed with lust.

  My breathing quickened, and heat bloomed across my cheeks. Prince August was getting it all wrong. I tried loosening my grip, but his larger hand closed around mine, and he squeezed his eyes shut, twisting his face into the kind of grimace I would imagine a male would make when being jerked against his will.

  “Unity Quayle,” he said through clenched teeth. “This assault on my person has just earned you a brutal execution.”

  My heart quivered, and sweat trickled down my brow. “But I didn’t—”

  His thrusts quickened. “Agh!”

  “Now’s your chance,” shouted McVittie from his hiding place at the top of the stairs. “Complete your magic!”

  Realization flicked me upside the head, and I stared down at the quaking cock that looked ready to erupt. This was probably my last chance to soak in some Summer Court power to trigger my own magical development, and I wouldn’t lose that opportunity for the sake of pride.

  I clamped my lips around his cock-head and bobbed my head up and down to help him along. “Mmmmm!”

  “Oh!” Prince August groaned and bucked and placed a huge palm on the back of my head, pumping in and out of my mouth as he shot jets of warm spunk down my throat.

  I swallowed once, twice, three times, my heart pounding but not nearly as hard as the clenching and unclenching of the muscles of my core.

  While the spurts reduced in volume and his hips slowed to a gentle rocking, I slipped my fingers into my breeches and pantalettes to rub all the tension from my engorged clit.

  My fingers made fast work against that sensitive bundle of nerves, making my core twitch and shiver wi
th pleasure. I continued swallowing around my mouthful of Prince August, and in moments, the pressure around my clit built to a crescendo, tearing a climax through my body.

  The hand around the back of my head released, and Prince August sat back with a lazy smile on his lips. “Outrageous.”

  “What?” I spluttered. “You were the one who started it.”

  His brows rose. “Says the wanton creature who abducted me from my private bath. How many mornings did you lie in watch, fondling yourself at the sight of my nakedness?”

  I pursed my lips. He made me look like I was some kind of lecher who watched males in the bath, dragged them back to her lair, and forced them to cum in her mouth.

  “Smirk at me all you want.” I yanked off the cock-ring, making him flinch. “Did your brothers tell you I absorbed their magic? Thanks to your massive eruption, I now have enough power to attack Lady Gala.”

  The smug grin dropped, replaced by a gnashing of his teeth and a glare laden with so much heat and contempt that I scooted away.

  “If you touch my beloved,” he snarled, “I’ll—”

  “You’ll what?” I raced back to the stairs. “Cum in my mouth again? Get another erection? For someone who is desperately in love with Lady Gala, you were certainly eager enough to cheat.”

  His face crumpled into a look of anguish that clenched at my heart. That had been supremely bitchy. The Duke’s loyalty spell clearly hadn’t turned him into a eunuch, and it was unreasonable to expect a man not to take up an opportunity if the woman he wanted could only have sexual contact once every four years.

  Besides, maybe at a deeper level, he knew the relationship was a sham. I didn’t have to taunt Prince August over something that wasn’t his fault. “Sorry, Your Highness. I spoke out of turn.”

  “Gala loves me enough to understand that you placed me under sexual duress with dark magic.”

  I shook my head, all sympathy for the prince vanishing in a cloud of dust. “Whatever makes you feel better.”

  His face hardened. “Get out of my sight.”

  “Come on,” said McVittie. “Let’s see if that infusion of Summer Court magic has made you any better at flying.”