Chapter 27 #2
She shoves me gently back toward the corridor. "Now hurry before that mate of yours starts destroying priceless Fae antiquities. He gets so testy when he's denied."
I stumble toward the eastern gardens, every brush of fabric against my skin making me bite back moans. The fairy dust has turned my entire body into one exposed nerve, desperate and aching.
I find Kaan exactly where Banu said—standing beside an absolutely obscene fountain featuring sprites in positions that would make a brothel madam blush. He turns as I approach, and whatever he sees in my expression makes his eyes go pure midnight.
"Nesilhan—"
I don't let him finish. I grab his hand and pull, already moving toward the forest exit.
"Hot springs," I manage, my voice rough with need. "Northwest. Now."
His nostrils flare as he scents my arousal, and a dark smile curves his lips. "Did she—"
"Don't ask. Don't talk. Just—" I can barely form words through the desperate ache between my thighs. "Please."
His shadows wrap around us both, and then we're moving faster than any human could manage, the forest blurring past as he carries us toward the springs.
"There," I gasp, hearing the sound of running water.
The clearing is perfect—a natural pool fed by a small waterfall, steam rising from the surface in delicate curls. Moonlight filters through the canopy, painting everything in silver and shadow. The water glows with a faint bioluminescence, casting dancing lights across the surrounding stones.
"Banu is getting a very expensive gift when we return," Kaan murmurs, already working at the laces of my dress with deft fingers.
"Banu is never allowed to dust me again," I counter, but my hands are equally busy with his clothes, desperate to feel skin against skin.
He laughs darkly against my throat. "Liar. You love what it does to you."
The dress pools at my feet, undergarments following quickly after. Kaan's clothes join them, and then we're stumbling toward the water, mouths fused together, hands everywhere at once.
The water is perfect—hot enough to loosen muscles but not uncomfortably so. And Banu was right about the properties. The moment it touches my skin, every sensation intensifies tenfold. Kaan's hands on my waist feel like brands, his mouth on mine like lightning striking my core.
"Come here," he commands, pulling me into the deeper water until I'm straddling his lap, the heated pool lapping at my breasts.
I can feel him, hard and thick beneath me, and the fairy dust makes even that glancing contact overwhelming. I grind down instinctively, desperate for friction, and he groans. His cock expand, digging into my heat, I’m desperate to have him inside me.
"Fuck, you're dripping already," he growls, one hand sliding between my thighs to feel the evidence. "My needy little empress. The dust barely touched you and you're soaked, aren't you?"
"Kaan, please—"
"Please what?" His fingers tease through my folds, circling but never quite touching where I need him. "Use your words, hatun. Tell me what you want from your husband."
"I want you inside me—"
"Where?" He slides two fingers into me without warning, and I cry out, arching my head back. His lips find my nipples, biting it gently. "Here? Or—" he withdraws them, trailing wetness higher, "—somewhere else? Should I fuck this tight little ass while the fae from the palace listen?"
The crude words send heat flooding through me. "Gods—yes—anything—"
"Greedy thing." But he positions himself at my entrance, letting me feel how hard he is, how much he wants this.
"You know what I'm going to do to you? I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk.
Until your pussy is so full of my cum it drips down your thighs.
Until every Fae in this realm knows exactly who you belong to. "
He lifts me slightly, positioning himself, and then pulls me down in one brutal thrust, filling me completely as he digs his fingers into my flesh. I start to pant, hearing voices whisper near me, but that’s impossible. We are alone, there can’t be anyone close by.
We both groan at the sensation—the heat of the water amplifying everything, the fairy magic singing through our veins, the perfect stretch and fullness of our bodies joining. It's overwhelming, devastating, exactly what I need.
"Ride my cock like a good Shadow Lady," he demands, hands gripping my hips hard enough to bruise. "Show me how desperate you are."
I move, rolling my hips in a rhythm that makes us both gasp. The water splashes around us as I take him deeper, harder, chasing the pleasure building in my core. The voices, the moans, I know I am not making it up, there are fae around us, near us, hidden and watching.
"That's it," he growls, one hand tangling in my hair to pull my head back. "Fuck me. Use me. Take what you need."
His other hand slides between us, fingers finding my clit and circling with maddening pressure.
The combination of his cock stretching me, his fingers working that sensitive bundle of nerves, the heated water caressing every inch of exposed skin—it's too much. My skin feels hypersensitive, my magic drums in my ears, heat and Kaan’s shadows tingling my skin.
"I'm going to come," I gasp.
"Not yet." His fingers still. "You don't come until I say."
"Kaan—"
"Beg for it." His hips thrust up hard, and I cry out. "Beg me to let you come on my cock like a good little whore."
The words should horrify me. Instead, they make me clench around him, my body betraying exactly how much his filthy mouth affects me.
But that's when I hear it—a faint rustle in the undergrowth. A quickly stifled gasp that's distinctly female.
I freeze certain this time that we have company, but Kaan's fingers resume their circling, relentless. "Don't stop," he commands.
"Someone's watching," I whisper, torn between shame and the dark thrill shooting through me.
His eyes meet mine, dark and knowing. "I know. I can sense at least three of them." His thumb presses harder against my clit. "Let them watch. Let them see how the empress of light rides the Shadow Lord's cock. Let them see you fall apart."
Another rustle, closer this time. Then another from a different direction. They're surrounding us, these voyeuristic Fae, drawn by the scent of sex and magic and the spectacle we're making.
"They're stroking themselves," Kaan murmurs against my ear, and gods help me, I can feel it now too—the spike of arousal in the air, the sound of ragged breathing barely concealed by the trees. "Watching you bounce on my cock and wishing they could trade places with me."
Heat floods through me at the image. I'm moving again despite myself, riding him harder, the knowledge that we have an audience making me wetter than I've ever been.
"That's my girl," he praises, and the approval in his voice makes me moan. "You love this, don't you? Love knowing they're watching you get fucked. Love showing them who you belong to."
"Yes," I gasp, beyond shame, beyond anything but the desperate need for release.
"Then come," he commands. "Come on my cock while they watch."
The words, the knowledge of our audience, his fingers working my clit with deep care—it's too much. The orgasm builds at the base of my spine, coiling tighter and tighter until I can't breathe, can't think, can't do anything but feel.
"Come," he commands again, and it's like he's pulled a trigger.
I shatter.
The pleasure detonates through me, white-hot and devastating.
My inner walls clench around him, pulsing, milking him as the climax tears through me.
It's not just in my core—it's everywhere.
In my fingertips, my toes, behind my eyes.
The fairy dust amplifies everything until I'm drowning in sensation, lost in a sea of ecstasy that feels like it might actually kill me.
My thighs shake uncontrollably. My pussy spasms around his cock, each contraction sending fresh sparks of pleasure radiating outward. I can feel myself gushing, soaking him, the wet sounds obscene as he keeps moving inside me, prolonging it, dragging it out until I'm sobbing.
"That's it," he growls, his voice rough with his own need. "Fuck—you're clenching so tight—"
His rhythm stutters, becomes erratic, and then he's groaning my name against my throat, his cock pulsing as he spills inside me. I feel the heat of it, the fullness, and impossibly, it triggers another smaller wave of pleasure that makes me whimper.
We stay like that for long moments, both trembling violently, the water lapping gently around us.
My heart is racing so hard I can feel it in my throat.
Every nerve ending is still firing, oversensitive and raw.
I can barely process the sounds around us—the rustling in the undergrowth, the soft sighs and whispered conversations as our audience disperses, presumably satisfied by the show.
I feel drained. Destroyed. Remade. Like he's reached inside me and rearranged something fundamental.
"You knew they were there," I finally say. "Before I did."
"I sensed them the moment we entered the water." He presses a kiss to my shoulder. "And I felt how wet it made you when you realized."
I should deny it. Should be mortified. Instead, I lean back to meet his eyes. "You're a terrible influence."
"And yet, you're still here." His hands slide up my sides, thumbs brushing the underside of my breasts. "Still gripping my cock. Still wanting more."
Because he's right. The fairy dust is still singing through my veins, and already I can feel my body responding to his touch again.
"The water," I breathe. "Banu said it enhances—"
"Everything," he finishes. "Which means we're nowhere near done."
His fingers tighten in my hair, and he pulls me off his lap with a control that's almost violent. "Out. Against the rocks."
I obey on shaking legs, the water lapping at my thighs as I brace my hands against the smooth stone edge of the pool. The position leaves me vulnerable, exposed, and I can feel his gaze on me like a physical touch.
"Do you know what you look like right now?" he asks, and there's something darker in his voice now. Something that makes my core clench with anticipation. "Bent over, dripping, completely at my mercy."
"Kaan—"
His hand comes down on my ass with a sharp crack that echoes through the clearing.
I yelp—not from pain exactly, though the sting blooms hot across my skin—but from shock and the bolt of arousal that shoots straight to my clit.
"That's for making me wait through that entire negotiation," he says calmly, as if he hasn't just spanked me like a disobedient child. "For sitting there so composed while I could smell how wet you were."
Another slap, harder this time, on the other cheek. I gasp, my fingers scrabbling for purchase on the wet stone.
"That's for every time you've denied what this is between us." His palm soothes the burning flesh, the tender touch at odds with the punishment. "For pretending you don't crave this."
"I'm not—" I start, but the third slap cuts me off, making me cry out.
"Don't lie to me." He delivers two more in quick succession, alternating sides, and I'm trembling now, caught between the pain and the pleasure building in my core. My pussy is clenching around nothing, desperate and empty and so wet I can feel it dripping down my thighs.