Plan B
He’s still hungry? After all of that, that’s what he has to say to me? Of all the ungrateful, entitled… I stop and take a deep breath. He is royalty, what was I expecting?
“You’re not starving yet!” I snap.
Even though I have no idea if that’s true.
He has been trapped in my summoning circle for, what, two days?
Three days? I’ve completely lost track of time, because of the whole not sleeping thing.
But whatever, the point is, it definitely hasn’t been a week.
Surely that’s not a long time without sustenance?
Although, to be fair, I get hella hangry if I miss one meal. I’d be a feral monster after a couple of days. And Dis is ancient, powerful, and clearly not someone who handles deprivation gracefully. The frost spreading up my walls every time he’s annoyed is evidence enough of that.
My eyes narrow as I try to assess Dis. He stares back at me calmly, giving nothing away. He’s good at that. The composed, regal stillness. It’s infuriating. I can’t tell if he’s genuinely struggling or if this is just another power move designed to make me feel guilty.
“I summoned you here for revenge,” I huff. “To make you pay. Not to cater to your every whim!”
Dis lifts his head into a proud tilt. “Basic sustenance is not a whim.”
Hell’s balls. He has a very valid point.
And if he was on death’s door, he’d be far too proud to tell me.
He’s already outright said he is so ashamed of being trapped that he didn’t want Hex to see him.
Even though that might have resulted in his rescue.
That’s how deep his pride runs. He would rather suffer in silence than admit weakness.
For fuck’s sake. What a mess. The chances of Hex being pissy with me go up exponentially if I kill one of his brethren. Nevermind my pesky conscience, which has apparently decided to show up now of all moments. Inconvenient timing, conscience. Truly terrible.
I scramble to my feet. Dis flows gracefully to his. He is such a douchebag. All I wanted was a little revenge. Why does he have to make it so difficult?
I take another deep breath and try to pull myself together. This doesn’t have to be a big deal. It’s practical. Pragmatic. I’m not doing this because I want to, I’m doing it because the alternative is letting him starve, which creates more problems than it solves.
I centre myself and make peace with my decision. It’s time to get on with things. Plan A was a disaster, so plan B it is.
“You’re hungry?” I ask.
“Yes.”
I take a step towards him. “Then get on your knees.”
Blue eyes blaze, sapphire-bright. Frost spreads up the living room walls, crunching and painting pretty patterns across the plaster. It creeps toward the ceiling in delicate fractal formations, beautiful in the way that dangerous things often are.
It’s not going to distract me. Or intimidate me. I’m the one in control here.
I walk up to the edge of the circle with false swagger, every step deliberate, like I do this kind of thing all the time. Like commanding ancient shadow kings to kneel is just a normal Friday for me. I pause on the very edge, and unzip my tight black jeans.
Dis’s burning blue eyes drop down to my fly.
My skin prickles. I don’t think it’s just the cold. I think I’m stupidly overreacting. Even though this is no biggie. It’s just like a glory hole. A very weird, magical, glory hole. One with a very ancient powerful being on the other side. A very ancient powerful being who hates me.
“You don’t have teeth, do you?” I blurt out.
Blue eyes snap back up to my face. His lips slowly twist up into a smirk. “I can have anything that you want me to have, Little Witch.”
I suck in a breath. “Well, I don’t want you to have teeth. And just so we are clear, if you bite my dick off, I’ll bleed to death and you’ll be trapped here forever. All alone. Very bored. No sustenance at all.”
His smirk twists into a petulant scowl. “The blond one will come. As will Hex and his human.”
“No, they won’t.” I grind my teeth. “I set an Obscurer spell. It’s triggered by my violent death. Powered by it. The circle will strengthen, and everybody will forget that I and this flat ever existed.”
Dis’s eyes narrow.
Fuck. Shadow beings can’t sense bullshit, can they?
Because that was a lot of bullshit. Even if there is such a spell, I sure as hell aren’t strong enough to cast it.
I can barely manage a decent ward charm on a good day.
An Obscurer spell triggered by death is advanced magic way above my pay grade.
I glare at Dis. He glares back.
He seems to believe me. Thank fuck. Although I shouldn’t be surprised. I’m a pro at bullshit. Been doing it all my life. When you grow up the way I did, you learn fast that sometimes a convincing lie is the only thing standing between you and disaster.
“So, Disney. If you want to feed, get on your knees and take what you are given.”
Frost crackles. It spreads across the ceiling, ice crystals forming in intricate patterns that catch the light.
His blue eyes bore into me with an intensity that feels like pressure, like standing too close to the speakers at a dubstep concert.
But I meet his gaze evenly. This bastard ordered my death. I’m not backing down so easily.
He steps forward, towards me. Every instinct I have urges me to flee, every survival mechanism screaming at me to put distance between myself and this ancient, powerful, furious being. But I grind my teeth and hold still.
He takes another step closer. Then another. Then one more.
Now our noses are nearly touching. Okay, my nose is nearly touching his firm-looking chest, or would be if I wasn’t craning my neck to look up at him.
But the point stands. There is only magic between us.
A thin, invisible barrier that’s the only thing separating me from whatever consequences come with cornering a shadow king.
His blue eyes blink. He slowly, gracefully, drops to his knees.
My heart flutters. My stomach swoops. I bite my bottom lip and try not to pass out from the hotness overload.
Because this, this is something else entirely.
Dis on his knees. Dis choosing to kneel.
The most proud, imperious being I’ve ever encountered, lowering himself, and somehow making even that look like power.
With fumbling hands I free my suddenly very hard cock.
Dis’s eyes burn brighter. He stares at my piercing with an expression I can’t read, something complex moving behind those sapphire depths.
“Do you enjoy pain, Little Witch?” he whispers softly.
“No. I enjoy choice and control.”
He looks away from my piercing, and looks up at me from where he is kneeling by my feet. His eyes swirl. I see understanding move across his face. As if my words resonated with him and he can relate. Deeply.
I grimace. I don’t want to emotionally bond with this asshole. Not over cock piercings. Not over anything. We are nothing alike. There is no common ground between a small goth witch with abandonment issues and an ancient shadow king who stole a throne. Absolutely none.
Dis considers for a moment, as if he is choosing his words carefully, weighing them before he releases them. Then he says, “You are braver than I thought.”
My mouth opens as my brain scrambles to conjure up a witty reply, something sharp and deflecting, something to put distance between me and the strange sincerity in his voice.
But then all the oxygen in my lungs whooshes out with what can only be described as a squeak.
Warm, wet, heat is wrapped around the head of my cock. The magical barrier has bent just enough to allow Dis to lean forward and devour the tip of my cock, using his tongue to flick the piercing at the tip with great relish and keen interest.
I stumble closer, placing my palms against the magic. Shamelessly giving Dis as much access to my cock as I can. Apparently my instincts have zero qualms about this.
Dis doesn’t hesitate either. He feasts. He sucks me with enthusiasm. He is still all wispy and shadowy, but his mouth feels real enough. Maybe a little cooler than a human’s. Perhaps slightly softer.
His tongue rubs along the underside of my cock. There is just enough rasp to his tongue to feel really good. The sensation shoots through me, sending my muscles crazy and making my lungs forget how to work.
My head falls back. His soft lips roll down my length and then back up again. I force my head back up and force my eyes to open because I need to see this.
Dis’s hair has fallen forward. Silky strands of it are brushing over my cock as his head bobs. His blue eyes are gleaming through the curtain of his midnight-dark hair.
Yep. Opening my eyes was a great idea. Possibly the best idea I’ve ever had.
He twists his head slightly. Increases the suction. Pulls a throb from my swollen cock.
I bite back my groan. Fuck, he feels good. Too good. The former king has definitely sucked cock before.
But he needs more than just my raw lust to feed properly. I don’t want this to be for nothing. Although, now I know it’s not too bad, doing this again might not be so unbearable. Which is a thought I’m going to need to examine later, in the privacy of my bedroom, with the door firmly shut.
I shake my head and force myself to concentrate. Feed Dis. That’s what I’m doing. This might be the best blow job of my life, but this still isn’t recreational or casual. It’s necessary. It’s practical. It’s revenge, technically, even if it’s not quite the kind I planned.
With that thought in mind, I summon my rage. I force myself to remember the smoke filling my lungs. The raw panic of not being able to breathe. The cold, heavy weight of my rapidly approaching death. The sheer and utter helplessness of it all.
Dismay coils cold in my belly. It strangles my arousal, and my cock starts to soften.
Cursing under my breath, I focus back on my anger. Let it build, hot and righteous.
All my suffering was because Dis needed a distraction. My flat, my safe place, my first ever real home, reduced to ash and smoke because he needed to draw Hex away. I was just collateral damage. Barely worth a second thought.
And look at him now. Trapped in my circle. On his knees for me. Blowing me.
Glee and euphoria tingle along my spine. My cock gets even harder. Talk about satisfaction.
I didn’t plan for this to be a humiliation. I genuinely only wanted to feed Dis and this seemed like the best way of getting it done. Practical. Efficient. Transactional.
But now... now I’m thinking about two birds, one stone, and all that. I did summon him to make him pay, after all. I may not be ruthless enough to let him starve, but I still want justice. I still want him to understand what he did, what he took from me.
And this is perfect. He is a proud man.
My lips twitch. “Good boy,” I purr.
Dis growls. It reverberates around my cock. The lights flicker. Ice sheets over the floor, spreading out from the circle in every direction, layering over the frost that was already there.
Oh fuck.
He is angry, that’s for sure. But there is more, so much more, layers I wasn’t expecting.
He is drinking the pleasure he is giving me.
Taking my rage. Accepting everything I am giving him, all the emotion and sensation I’m pouring into this moment.
Our emotions are connected, and apparently it has created a two-way road, a feedback loop of sensation and feeling that I did not prepare for.
Because I just felt his fury at being called a good boy. And I also felt how much he liked it.
My eyes roll back. My hips jerk and my entire body shudders as I cum hard. Sparks ignite behind my eyelids. Ecstasy soars through me, curls my toes, and I swear it sends static through my hair. Sparks ignite behind my eyelids.
I stumble back, away from the scalding intensity, while shoving my dick back into my pants with shaking hands.
Everything is too much. Far, far too much.
I can’t handle this. Can’t handle the connection, the feeling of his emotions tangled up with mine, can’t handle how real and immediate and overwhelming all of it is.
I stand a few feet away, lungs heaving, trying to remember how to be a person.
Dis flows to his feet with all the casual grace of a predator who has just eaten well and knows it.
His sapphire eyes are sparkling. Satisfied. He stares at me and very purposefully licks his lips. Long, lingering, thorough licks.
My spent cock twitches and a whimper dies in my throat.
“You taste good, Little Witch,” he rumbles.
A shiver dances over my skin. Damn, that is so sexy. Why is that so sexy? It shouldn’t be sexy. Nothing about this situation should be sexy.
My mouth opens. I need a witty comeback. A truly devastating one. A withering comeback worthy of the record books. Something that reclaims my dignity and my power and my sense of self.
Fuck. Why is my mind utterly blank? Why are there only a few stray thoughts rattling around in the empty space where my brain used to be?
Oh god, it’s too much. It’s the hot guy effect plus just having my brain sucked out of my dick.
I’ll be lucky if I can form a coherent sentence, let alone anything with a scathing burn.
“I… you… I…”
Dis raises one devastating eyebrow. He looks infuriatingly composed for someone who was just on his knees. How is that fair? How is any of this fair?
Yep. This is no good. No good at all. Hopeless. Retreat is my only option. A strategic withdrawal. An orderly exit. Absolutely not fleeing in defeat.
I turn on my heels and flee to the relative safety of my bedroom.
I flop onto my unmade bed with a groan, staring up at the ceiling and trying to process what just happened. The whole thing. All of it.
This whole revenge thing really isn’t going to plan.
Fuck my life.