Chapter Nine
Whatever happened, the castle remained the same. None of the servants acknowledged the business with the witches, and Dermot himself was cast out. Not once had he been called to the kitchen, receiving only a missive from Béchard each day detailing menial tasks to be completed.
His sleep since the incident had been fitful and almost non-existent. He was hardly a man at all now, stumbling around the place as he did. He was more awake when he fumbled about in restlessness than he was in the daytime, bent over a bucket brimming with waste.
Turning onto his side and kicking the sheet so it would cover his cold feet, Dermot grasped a handful of bedding and held it in his fist. Shifting again, he hit something hard.
‘What?’ Dermot said, hands going immediately to what lay at his side. His fingertips settled on warm flesh, and at this he jerked backwards as if burnt.
‘Dermot,’ came that sweet chime, a melody unsung. ‘I’ve missed you. Have you missed me?’
‘Maldred!’ Dermot shouted, forgetting himself until those soft hands pressed against his lips.
‘You needn’t shout. Don’t forget, your two friends lie sleeping here, and we wouldn’t want to wake them.
’ Maldred laughed and, tracing his fingers from Dermot’s lips to his chest, mapped out the length of him.
‘Such a strong man. You’re all the more appealing now.
’ Going to Dermot’s torso and grasping the hard muscle, a particularly long fingernail pierced Dermot’s skin.
Shifting away, mindful that Will’s bed lay but a few steps from his own, Dermot shuddered at the weakness of his body.
‘Now you’ve come to me,’ Dermot began, gathering his courage, ‘you must know that the boy and his aunt are set to be burnt tomorrow. What would you have me do? Please, I cant bear…’ Here he paused, absurdly terrified of telling a pretty young man what ailed him.
If Maldred loved him for his strength, he could never speak plainly.
‘Silly,’ Maldred said. Dermot was rendered placid and altogether stupid as the boy sat astride him. Leaning down and tracing Dermot’s lips with his own, he gave a gentle lick. ‘What did I tell you last time?’
‘Do nothing,’ Dermot said, though he could hardly speak.
‘And so you have done,’ Maldred said, twirling fingertips around Dermot’s cloth bottoms.
‘I cannot think you mean to see two people burnt!’ Dermot burst out, slapping Maldred’s hands away. He watched fascinated as Maldred flinched at his strength.
‘Quiet!’ Maldred said, shushing him like a child. ‘You are lucky I saw fit to put a barrier around us, else your friends would have woken.’
That might have been the best option. At least Will, after considerable surprise, would’ve realised Dermot was not solely at fault.
But suspicion likely already ran rife throughout the castle so they all might’ve been preparing to take against him.
Being barred from the kitchen, he had already been ostracised from their little society.
‘Do you remember when you last saw me, you told me you loved me?’ Maldred said, the two of them lying in a deadlock.
Rarely was his heart so light, this rare joy given freely to other men like a weight lifted from him.
All that could be felt was his pleasure as they rocked back and forth, Maldred having mounted him.
The faerie moaned as if they were engaging in the act rather than mimicking it, drifting his hands further down so Dermot belatedly realised his aching cock lay bare.
‘What do you mean by this?’ Dermot said, pushing himself up. ‘You do not wish to see people hurt, I know it.’
‘Do you?’ Maldred said. Dermot moved to push him away, disturbed, until Maldred again came to his cock. ‘You are right, of course. I would not wish harm on any of our people.’
‘Then why…’ Dermot began, as Maldred’s hands twisted around his cock. The faerie was delicate, watching him without malice, though his eyes pierced like Thorne’s. ‘Do you love me as well, Maldred?’
Drawing back, the boy bit his well-sculpted lips, shaped like a bow and tinged red as an apple. ‘Love you?’ he echoed, eyes darting between Dermot and his prick. ‘I have never taken a partner before, in truth.’
Like a creature catching sight of its favourite prey, Dermot watched him for any sign of deception.
‘Humans do certain things for their partner. More than just playing, they make love,’ he said.
That two innocents waited to burn the following day was naught but fiction to him now.
He was hot to lose his virginity and deflower Maldred in turn.
Grabbing hold of Maldred and swinging him round so their positions were reversed with Dermot on top and the faerie below, so did he eclipse him. Trailing hands over perfect, unblemished skin, Dermot must’ve appeared like a rabid animal about to sate its hunger. He licked his lips.
‘What are you doing?’ Maldred said. His eyes shifted to Dermot’s arms, bulging muscle won through hard labour. Whether he was truly trapped or feigning surprise, Dermot did not know.
‘I love you. Do you feel the same?’ Dermot said. His cock had enough of waiting; it was unnatural for a man of his age to be sexless. Anger all at once converged in his chest, realising he lived like a man castrated.
‘You have done much for me,’ Maldred said, lashes casting shadows over his eyes.
Dermot bore down further, lying directly on top of Maldred.
His cock strained for the pleasure it knew to be but a few inches away.
Surely he was not in his right mind, afflicted instead by some spell.
He didn’t dare take liberties with Thorne, and never would he have touched sweet Aubrey with such evil intentions.
‘If you love me… if you truly love me…’ Maldred was saying, Dermot’s lips hot on his skin, ‘then I will pleasure you in this way.’
Groaning as the weight of the words were felt, Dermot pushed forward, setting his hands decisively on Maldred’s shoulders.
‘You’re saying I can?’ he clarified, though he did not know what he would do if Maldred refused.
He flinched as he moved to do it, at once terrified and elated, fears twisting together as he positioned himself for the act that would leave his body forever changed.
‘Yes. Just recall I have never before taken a lover,’ Maldred said, head down like an acquiescing girl.
Dermot made no reply. Coaxing the faerie to lie beneath him, his hand went to the handle of his nightstand, and he wet his fingers with the wax reserved for cleaning.
Going disbelievingly to the source of his pleasure, he prepared the boy half-heartedly, doing the same to his cock in turn.
He hardly knew what he was doing and expected Maldred knew even less.
Unceremoniously, almost uncaringly, he bore down and pushed through.
Maldred cried out in either shock or ecstasy.
Haltingly, Dermot realised he did not care which state afflicted him.
Overcome, he groaned with pleasure, thrusting to the tune of another pained gasp.
His prick fought against Maldred’s insides, a battle long since won.
He would not in that moment have believed the boy to be sentient.
He was but a thing that made the occasional noise, serving only to draw Dermot closer to oblivion.
Beating down further, lost in black, nebulous pleasure, he realised with a pang that Aubrey wouldn’t have submitted as meekly as Maldred had.
‘You go too fast,’ Maldred said, setting his hands on Dermot’s biceps. ‘Please, we are making love, not fighting a battle.’ Dermot delighted as that chime fell to stuttering, forced to beg beneath him.
‘Let me go on top,’ Maldred said, swatting against Dermot’s skin like a freshly caught butterfly, challenging the spider already set to devouring.
Dermot rolled onto his side so he could observe the faerie’s innocent beauty as he was spoiled.
Maldred let himself be manoeuvred, Dermot’s hands on his hips like a vice as he twisted the boy like a marionette.
He cared not for how he looked, red-faced and snarling like a barbarian as pleasure lashed in his stomach.
It was no wonder serving men and women were afflicted with so many children, having no other pleasure but this.
‘Oh, Dermot, Dermot…’ Maldred was saying. Mouth slightly ajar, his eyes rolled back so only the whites could be observed. Were it not for the barrier, everyone in the castle would’ve woken, for Dermot was not a small man.
Twisting about, cock synchronised to the choir of Maldred’s pleasure, his eyes met Will’s, staring brazenly at him from across their scant chamber.
The curtains hung a considerable distance from the wall, leaving the early morning light to seep in.
Will had seen all, disbelief and revulsion plain on his face as Dermot rutted.
Flinching, Dermot grasped Maldred so the boy was again beneath him, trounced in an instant by his superior strength. He growled, guttural and totally unlike a man.
Fresh in the knowledge that Will was all but forced to watch, Dermot bit the back of Maldred’s neck as euphoria hit.
His working man’s body, used to hard labour and few pleasures, quivered as his cock spurted.
He had not removed himself from Maldred.
The faerie was little more than an instrument in this, though capable of giving far greater pleasure than his hand.
Never in his life had he spilled so, it leaving him in great ropes while before it’d been but a few specks upon the bedding.
Maldred moaned and titled his neck like a whore, the bed still rumbling as Dermot reached his peak.
It was Will’s blue eyes he thought on as he finally beat down, coming to lie on top of Maldred with a thump, cock still snuggly inside.
‘Who are you?’ Dermot murmured. He ran his dark, calloused thumb across Maldred’s neck. ‘Have I no right to know?’