Chapter Twelve #2
Rhael’s cough pulled me back from my thoughts about the two wolves as he demanded my attention. Picking up one of the small items from the plate and holding it to my lips.
Choosing to feed me first as his other hand splayed over my thigh, his fingers dangerously close to the line of my underwear. Magnus’ eyes watched us, an approving smirk lingering on his lips as I opened my mouth accepting the sweet tasting item from Rhael’s fingers.
Conversation rolled like thunder around us, reports of raids, of bodies found pale and broken. Noctharis was named openly as an enemy here, spoken with contempt and fury.
I did not comment, I did not know enough, and besides, Rhael kept both my mouth and mind busy with small treats and his wandering hands. He was getting revenge for my earlier actions, and I knew part of him enjoyed my compliance for this one time.
Instead, I tried to listen, to take in names and faces, holding them in my brain. Rhael had been right, people didn't notice me watching them.
Whenever they looked up, their gaze had always lingered on Rhael or Magnus. I was insignificant, not a wolf in this room believed I would hold any use whatsoever. So, I sat in Rhael’s lap, playing the part of a lovesick fool while I took in information.
Nothing stood out as concerning or hateful towards Vaetharyn. In fact, some were even pleased the Fae King had returned to help.
“I know I told you we would wait until morning to discuss, however I wanted to tell you I have decided to join your cause. In the name of both our kingdoms and an old friendship,” Magnus smirked holding up his mug of mead and beneath me, I felt Rhael relax.
“I am glad. May this be the start to a prosperous alliance.” he responded, his eyes lighting up with something I would have called pride.
I found myself watching him for a moment longer than necessary. Seeing the lines of his face, usually so dark and calloused, turned into something that was almost boyish.
It was clear he was glad the Wolf King had agreed to help him, that his old friend still lingered despite years of tension and mistrust.
By the time the hall began to empty, the tension inside of my body had eased. It had not vanished, but I no longer wanted to curl up into a ball and hide within myself.
When Rhael rose, I stood with him, steadying myself as I got used to my feet being back on the floor. Although, he did not release me, instead he kept an arm around my waist, pressing me into his side.
The facade would continue late into the night, the wolves had agreed to help Rhael, but their favour could quickly be taken away if our lie was ever to be caught.
“Are you retiring to your bedroom for the night?” Magnus asked, a mischievous smile lingering on his lips.
“With a woman like this waiting for me, it would be rude not to,” Rhael smirked, pulling me forward into his chest further, causing my body to jerk forward.
“Good man, make sure you enjoy yourself,” Magnus smiled, clapping Rhael on the back.
I looked between them, as well as I could whilst pressed firmly against the Fae King’s chest. It appeared mead had made them both more affectionate, although Rhael still seemed colder than Magnus, his shoulders stiff, but he still returned the smile and knowing look.
I had wanted to tell them both to fuck off. That I was standing right beside them. That I didn’t appreciate being the butt of their lewd, sexual jokes. Instead, I stayed silent. Biting my tongue with what was becoming practiced ease.
Rhael led me from the hall, his eyes keeping straight forward even though he did not loosen his grip on me. Not until we were safely behind the door of our bedroom.
Even then he didn’t speak. Instead, he stepped back, taking two deep breaths. I watched his shoulders rise and fall with great effort. He seemed to be battling with this as much as I was.
“Take off the dress.” he commanded, finally speaking, breaking the silence between us, as I tried to slow my own breathing. I knew what was expected: the wolf King would want to hear everything.
I froze, for just a moment. My fingers hovering over the corset at my back that held the leather tight. The command in his voice was unmistakable.
Like a King to his subject instead of a lover's request. My heart pounded under my skin as I tried to detach myself from the act itself. It meant nothing, would always mean nothing.
Swallowing hard I turned slightly, my hands working the ties at my back. The leather loosened, sliding down my skin until it pooled at my feet in a heap.
I wasn't careful as I stepped out, instead I kicked it out of the way, it didn't need to be perfect. The cool air of the room spread goosebumps over my arms and legs, standing there in nothing but my underwear.
The dress didn't have space for a bra, so I tried to keep my arms at my side instead of trying to cover my breasts. If he wanted this, he could damn well look at me.
Rhael’s expression didn't change, but I noticed the way his eyes darkened as they raked over me, admiring the curves of my body, taking in every scar that stained my pale skin.
I wasn't the most glamorous woman, not like he would have seen in previous Fae lovers. I had curves, not many thanks to years of starvation, but enough to make it clear I was a human, normal, boring. Ordinary.
Without a word he reached out, fingers hooking into my underwear and tugged them down slowly. Exposing the heat of my body to the cold air. I took in a breath that sounded more like a hiss than an attempt to breathe.
“On the bed,” he ordered once more, his voice low and even. I obeyed, my legs trembling as I climbed into the massive four poster bed. This was not the first time I had been ordered to strip and please a master, but it was the most nervous I had felt in years.
Before I had almost been able to block it out, look up at the ceiling and wait for them to be done, taking no pleasure in the act. However, with Rhael, I knew it would be harder, more difficult to ignore the man between my legs.
He didn't undress. Instead, he loomed at the edge of the bed, his hands flexing at his sides before he reached out to grip my ankle. His touch was firm, possessive as he pulled my legs apart with a controlled strength I should have expected, but it still made me gasp.
Rhael positioned himself between them, kneeling on the floor as his broad shoulders forced my thighs wider. The power in his grip sent a thrill of vulnerability through me, he could do anything he wanted, and I had no say whatsoever.
I felt his hands slide up my calves, then my thighs. They were rough and calloused against my skin. He didn't rush, each movement was calculated, calm.
As if he had done it a thousand times before but was making a mental note on how to complete the task in the most effective way possible. When his fingers brushed the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, I bit my lip to stifle a sound, but he noticed, his lips curved into a faint predatory smirk.
“Do not hide from me. They need to hear you.” He murmured, his breath warm against my core as he leaned in.
His hands stilling their exploration to pin down my hips, holding me immobile.
At that moment I understood how much of this was about control.
I was spread open for him, exposed and at his mercy whilst he remained fully clothed and untouched.
His mouth descended without warning, lips pressing firmly against my core. I arched involuntarily, a sharp inhale escaping me as his tongue flicked out, tracing my pussy with precise unyielding strokes.
Rhael licked slowly at first, parting me, tasting me as if I was part of his territory. The sensation was electric, wet heat contrasting with his usual cool demeanour.
I felt it as his grip tightened on my hips, bruising in its intensity, keeping me from squirming away. He sucked on my clit, drawing it between his lips then released it with a soft pop before delving deeper.
His tongue thrust inside me, fucking me in shallow deliberate motions that made my toes curl. My breaths came in ragged pants, the power imbalance not lost on me. Rhael orchestrated every wave of pleasure dictating the pace whilst I was helpless to do anything but surrender.
Not once did he speak or soften his approach. This was duty, something he just had to get over with, but the skill was undeniable. One hand released my hip to slide up my body, fingers capturing my nipple, pinching and rolling it until I whimpered.
The dual assault built pressure low in my stomach, coiling tighter with each lap of his tongue, each twist of his fingers.
I teetered on the edge, my body betraying me under his command.
“Rhael.” I gasped, I wasn't sure if it was a plea or a protest. He hummed against me in response, the vibration sending sparks through my nerves.
It increased the pleasure which was made worse when his lips closed around my clit once more, whilst two fingers were pushed inside me, curling to stroke that spot which made my whimpers turn to full, loud, uncontrolled moans.
The orgasm crashed over me without mercy, my pussy clenching around his fingers as I cried out, waves of release pulsing through me. Rhael didn't stop immediately, instead he focused on drawing it out with slow, torturous licks until I trembled, oversensitive and spent.
Finally, I watched as he pulled back, my eyes struggling to focus as I pushed myself up onto my elbows. I expected him to undress, to demand some kind of pleasure in return. Instead, he rose, straightening his tunic, eyes meeting mine void of any kind of emotion.
“That will suffice for the night. Sleep.” he commanded, turning away from me as he unbuttoned his clothes.
He barely looked over his shoulder as I sat there, naked and confused.
I opened my mouth to question him, expecting him to demand I reciprocate, like other masters had done but no words formed.
I could have cursed him as he climbed into bed and rolled over, his back to me. Seemingly deciding the pleasure was over and enough was enough. I lay there for at least an hour, staring up at the ceiling not bothering to put on any night clothes, there was no point.
Sleep evaded me no matter how hard I tried. My breath rising and falling as I remembered every moment of the pleasure that I felt. The aching of my hips from his grip, the way I still trembled remembering his tongue.
He had used me to secure his goal and rolled over as if he was done with me, or perhaps it was that I wasn't worthy of his pleasure. Either way, it fucking sucked.