Chapter 16
Chapter sixteen
Dyfri
Jack is enthralled by whatever he is watching on the TV. A Christmas film he said.
Rhydian decreed that no fey can allow humans to know that we can’t see TV. It’s just flickering lights to us. Something humans could turn into a disorientating weapon if they knew.
So I have to pretend the pulsing colours make sense to me. The sound the TV emits is disjointed, but if I concentrate, I can understand the words. But it’s rarely worth the effort.
That’s why I’m watching Jack instead of the TV. I’m pretending to look at the screen, while observing Jack, only so I don’t die of boredom. It’s not at all because I like looking at him. He’s not that interesting.
Right now, his cheeks are flushed from wine and laughing, and he still has a ridiculous paper crown on his head. All lopsided.
The brightly coloured lights on the tree and the flickering TV screen are the only lights in here. The colours are swirling across his grinning face.
He looks so happy. Just… uncomplicatedly happy.
Comfortable and content in his own skin.
It’s deeply intriguing. I’ve never known anyone like him.
Except maybe my brother Tristan. He is always inanely cheerful.
But Tristan is a prince of the fey court, and that hasn’t allowed him to be naive.
He knows how to play the game. How to survive.
Jack is the human leader’s son. He should be similar. But he wasn’t born into a position of power. He was not raised for this. Humans work by plotting and planning. Favours and lies. Fooling the masses into voting for you, based on the false promises you make.
It’s a strange system. And it means Jack was not born to rule. In his childhood, he was simply a normal human. A little wealthier than most, but nothing extraordinary.
So perhaps Jack Caxton is exactly as he seems. Good. Honest. Kind. Caring.
It’s a really challenging notion to accept.
Jack turns to face me.
Shit. I became lost in my thoughts for too long and now he has caught me staring.
A dazzling smile lights up his face. His eyes sparkling. He leans towards me, closer and closer, until I can feel his breath on my lips.
He is going to kiss me.
I turn away sharply, just at the last minute. Jack’s soft lips brush over my cheek and make the skin there tingle.
My breath hitches. Kisses don’t mean the same to humans. They give theirs away freely. Without care.
To receive the blessing of a kiss, but from someone who didn’t mean it? That’s more than I could bear. I’m nowhere near strong enough for that.
“Sorry,” Jack whispers softly.
Cautiously, I turn back towards him.
He is still close, but the sad, crestfallen look in his eyes is telling me he isn’t going to try to kiss me again.
“We can do other things,” I say.
My heart is pounding frantically. As if the sad look in Jack’s eyes has wounded it. As if I’m going to die if I don’t make Jack happy again.
I slide off the sofa and down onto my knees. I look up at Jack, and he inhales sharply. His legs are already spread, so I position myself between them and place my hand on the waistband of his pyjama trousers.
Jack’s eyes are wide and dark now. His pink tongue pokes out and runs along his bottom lip.
I lower his trousers until his cock bounces free. Already hard for me. Just at the promise of my touch.
I stare up at him, holding his gaze as I lean forward and run my tongue along his length.
He inhales sharply and his eyes darken with lust. He leans back and settles down to watch me work his cock.
He is already looking much happier. I wager he has completely forgotten about the refused kiss.
I flick my tongue over his leaking slit. He grunts and his thighs twitch. I place my hands on them. He is hot against my palms. All firm muscle and strength. Lying pliant beneath me.
My tongue swirls over the head of his cock. I suck him into my mouth, and the salty taste of him floods my senses. He is smooth like silk. Hot, heavy and pleasing.
I keep my gaze fixed on him as I slowly roll my lips down his cock and take more of him inside my mouth.
He moans beautifully for me. An almost-whimper. Deep, masculine and hungry for me.
The sound ignites a fire in my own veins. Desire burns through me. Sparking all the way down to my cock and filling it.
I bob my head. Up and down. Wetting him with my saliva. All while never looking away from his beautiful eyes.
I keep expecting him to grab my hair, to take control. But his hands remain by his side. Fists clenched but unmoving.
I shift my angle and allow his cock to bulge my cheek. I lift my hand up and tap my fingers on him, through the soft flesh of my cheek.
Jack yells and cums. Finding his peak all of a sudden. I drink down his seed and drink down the sight of him cresting on his pleasure. His eyes are closed now, and his head is thrown back. Jaw slack. All unguarded and raw.
He is still wheezing and gasping when I tuck him away.
I stay on my knees. “Merry Christmas, Jack.”
He laughs. A warm, rich sound that shakes his entire body. “Best Christmas ever.”
I smile. “Was that an appropriate gift?”
“What?” His eyes snap open and his head lifts from the sofa cushion to peer down at me.
The look on his face is making me want to squirm.
“I thought you wanted to do that?” he exclaims, horror and disgust clear in his voice. “You didn’t have to. You never have to.”
Now pity is swirling with his horror. My stomach is churning, cold and empty. My chest hurts. I jump to my feet and turn to stride away.
His fingers wrap around my wrist, holding me in place, gently and pleadingly. He isn’t holding tightly, it would be easy to snatch my arm free and flee.
“Please don’t go!” he begs with a frantic edge to his voice. “Please stay and let me blow you!”
His pleading eyes snap into focus as my head turns of its own accord. What the hell did he just say?
“Let me blow you,” he repeats, as if he knows I’m having trouble comprehending him.
He tugs on my wrist, and all of a sudden, I’m sitting on the sofa and he is the one on his knees. What on earth is happening?
Jack inches closer to my legs. I’m wearing a nightgown because Jack insisted staying in nightwear all day was a Christmas tradition.
“Can I? Blow you?”
My head is spinning. I’ve never felt so lightheaded. Jack is kneeling before me. Staring up at me beseechingly. This huge mountain of a man is at my feet. And it’s doing things to me.
I nod, even though I don’t mean to. I swear I haven’t fully weighed this all up yet. But apparently my body is deciding for me.
Jack grins as if I have bestowed upon him the gift of immortality. He lifts my red nightgown and bares me to his eyes. He looks down and seems to feast on the sight.
Then he licks his lips and leans closer. I squeak and push back against the sofa cushions.
He stops and gives me a concerned look.
“If you bite me, I will turn you into a slug!” I snap.
His eyebrows rise. “Why would I want to bite you?”
I force a swallow down my throat. “I don’t care for your reasons, I care I’m giving you the opportunity!”
He stares at me. Intently and sincerely. “I don’t want to bite you, Dyfri,” he says softly.
He is speaking to me as if I’m a crazed, feral animal. One that needs soothing and reassuring. It should be insulting. Demeaning. But he is practically glowing with honesty and good intentions.
And my cock somehow understands what is being offered and is extremely insistent that I accept.
I suck in a breath, and give Jack a sharp nod. My eyes close and my fists grab the sofa cushions.
Wet heat gently caresses my aching, throbbing cock. Sensation explodes. Pleasure soars. A cry escapes me. All just with one lick.
His lips wrap around me. Pressure along with the heat. The euphoria it creates melts all the thoughts in my mind.
I writhe, twist, whine and buck as Jack pleasures me with his mouth. Waves and waves of ecstasy. Until I feel as if I am floating. Flying. Free and wild. A creature that knows only joy. A body that has never known pain. I’m in a new world where only good things exist.
Jack hollows out his cheeks, and my back arches as I cry out something. My peak crashes through me. My cock pumps my seed down Jack’s throat.
A long time later, I open my eyes to find Jack grinning down at me. An echo is ringing in my ears. I think I cried out his name as I climaxed.
I blink and try to remember how to form coherent thoughts. Why was that so intense? Goddess knows I’ve had plenty of sex before. There was no reason for it to be so very different.
Jack looks entirely too pleased with himself. He also looks as if he is waiting for us to go to bed.
“I don’t think my legs are ever going to work again,” I tell him.
He chuckles. A sound of pure delight. “In that case, I guess I’ll have to carry you.”
I raise an eyebrow. “That’s rather undignified.”
“Who’s going to see?” He shrugs. “I won’t tell, if you don’t.”
For some reason, I’m nodding and agreeing with him. “Deal.” I say softly.
Jack beams, and bends down. He scoops me up into his arms as if I weigh nothing. He places me into a bridal carry and strides towards the bedroom.
I hear myself laughing. I sound happy. Happy at the wedding custom I vetoed less than a moon ago, when the thought of being carried by Jack seemed like a humiliation too difficult to bear.
Now I’m laughing. Now I’m enjoying the feel of his firm muscles. Now I’m exulting in feeling safe and protected. Even though I know it’s merely an illusion.
Who even am I right now?
Jack lays me carefully on the bed. He pauses, hovering over me, and we both stop laughing as a more intense feeling fills the air.
“You may fuck me if you like. I am your consort,” I say solemnly.
Jack shakes his head, and for a moment outrage at the insult burns.
“I don’t want to fuck you. I want to make love to you.”
I blink, but still nothing makes sense.
Jack tenderly runs a finger over my cheek. “You don’t want me in that way, so I have to wait to see if that ever changes.”
He straightens, turns the lamp off and gets under the covers. He snuggles up to me, inhales near my hair as if breathing my scent in. Then he sighs a deep sigh of contentment.
“Goodnight, Husband,” he murmurs.
Within minutes he is snoring. Alcohol no doubt smoothing the path to sleep.
I blink into the darkness. I’m so very confused. Utterly bewildered.
But sleep sounds nice, and perhaps in the morning, things will make sense.
I yawn, close my eyes and snuggle closer to Jack. Then, I allow sleep to carry me away.