20. Lysandra
As soon as I round the corner of the palace and the lights of the party fade, I feel better. Being around so many people after growing up relatively isolated can be a lot. Even when I was living with the witches, I had a reprieve, my own space for when I needed to decompress. In Faerie, it feels like I need to be my best self at all times. Sometimes, I long to sink my hands into the earth and release pent-up feelings away from others. Hades was right to get me out of there.
I trail my hand along the rose vines snaking up the stone walls of the palace, letting my magic seep from my fingers so they blossom. The buds swell, their sweet fragrance filling my nose as I walk toward a secret garden. From the outside, it looks like a cluster of rose bushes, but inside is a little haven with a stone bench and a freshly tilled plot of land. While the staff knows it exists, the courtiers don’t, making it the perfect place to seek sanctuary.
My magic parts the sentinel bushes, allowing me to pass through to my refuge.
Sitting on the bench, bathed in silver moonlight, is Puck. He’s hunched forward, his mask discarded on the grass beside him and his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.
I can’t deal with him right now. I can’t face the things I said, the way they made me feel, or the fact that seeing him dejected and broken makes my chest ache. Call me a coward, but I can’t.
I turn to quietly sneak out of the garden when he says, “Why are you everywhere?” It’s no more than a whisper, but it echoes in my bones.
I freeze like a misbehaving child, and then slowly steel my spine, erecting a wall to hide my feelings. “You think I mean to keep running into you?”
I spin around and gasp when I find him right there, brushing against me. He’s too close—close enough to see each one of his emotions as they flit through his eyes. His usual wildflower scent mixes with the whiskey on his breath in a heady concoction.
I slip away, heading further into the garden, but not giving him my back. He stalks after me, a predator with his prey in his sight, and I’m afraid if I turn around he’ll pounce.
“You think I followed you?” I scoff, my need to protect myself overriding the guilt I feel from my earlier comments. “I needed a fucking minute. The last person I want to see right now is you.”
“Then, why are you here?”
“You’re blocking my exit.”
“We’re outside, princess,” he says, his voice dipping as he steps closer. I can’t think straight when he’s this close.
My back hits the stone wall, the smooth texture at odds with the sharp sting of the thorns from the roses. I hide my wince as the plants nick my skin, and though he doesn’t comment, Puck’s magic parts the vines for me.
“About before…” I start.
“Are you referring to the comment you made or the fact that you were trying to make me jealous?”
“I wasn’t trying to make you jealous.” My protest is weak as he braces his forearm on the wall behind me. “Unlike you.”
“Me?”
“You were flirting with every female with a pulse. That wasnt to make me jealous?
He flashes me a mischievous smirk. “Did it work?”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
He makes a sound that’s awfully close to a growl, and I feel it everywhere. “You drive me crazy.”
His lips almost brush mine before his head dips to the side and his nose grazes the column of my neck. My pussy flutters. The last thing I should do is give him this position of power, but I lean to the side, allowing him further access.
He breathes me in like I’m his oxygen, and a sigh escapes my lips as his breath fans against the shell of my ear. “What are you doing to me?” he whispers just before his lips connect with my too-hot flesh. My hands shoot out, gripping his jacket, but I don’t know if I’m pulling him closer or pushing him away.
Maybe we need this. Maybe this ridiculous lust will fizzle out once we give in to it. Just once.
His teeth lightly nip at my pulse point and I whimper as goosebumps erupt all over my body. My pussy clenches, and I arch away from the wall, my hips swiveling against him. He’s already rock-hard. He snarls, lavishing my neck with his mouth as his hands skim up my ribcage.
“Say you want this,” he says, flattening me against the wall before he lifts my leg and pushes my midnight blue gown aside. His fingers bite into my hips. His cock grinds against my clit. “Say it.”
Yes.“No,” I sputter, arching into him further.
“Liar.” His teeth sink into my shoulder and I moan loudly—wantonly. I dig my nails into his back, wishing there were less clothes between us. The friction between us is the perfect amount to drive me higher, but not enough to get me off. I need more.
“You’re telling me you’re not soaked for me right now?” The hand that was on my hip slides to my inner thigh. I’m embarrassingly soaked, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction of admitting it. When he reaches the edge of my panties, he says, “Fucking hell, princess. Your pussy is begging for me, isn’t it? It’s desperate for my cock, my fingers, my tongue.”
“No,” I assert, even as I shift, trying to get him where I need him.
“Liar,” he repeats, and cups my pussy with his entire hand. He presses the heel of his hand into my clit, and I writhe against him. “Let’s try this. Since you clearly can’t say what you want, I’ll stop if you say the word red. No questions; no hesitation. You say that word, and I’ll leave you alone. Nothing else will keep me from sinking my cock into you. Understand?”
He leans his forehead against my masked one, his piercing green eyes bright even in the dim light of the rose garden. “Use your words, princess. What do you say when you want me to stop?”
I consider not answering, but then he pulls away. The cold air rushes between us where it was once warm and heated. I crave his touch; I can’t deny that.
One time.
I’ll give in one time.
“Red,” I whisper.
“Good fucking girl.”
“I’m not a dog,” I pant, even though every bit of me blooms under his praise. His responding chuckle is dark.
The sound of his zipper and our breaths intermingling eclipses the music from the party in the distance. Slowly, Puck uses a single finger to shove aside the lace of my panties, and then the head of his cock is running along my slit, spreading my arousal from my entrance up to that bundle of nerves.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, grabbing my hands and pinning them to the wall behind me. I struggle against his hold, but quickly go pliant as he circles my clit with his cock. It feels deliciously good, but I crave more. I need him to fill me, to pound into me. I need it more than oxygen.
He transfers my wrists into one hand and uses the other to shove my bodice down, the threads snapping a little as my breasts spill free. “Do you know how many times I’ve come to the thought of these?” His tongue trails a line down the swell, lapping up every inch of my skin—except where I need him most. I wriggle, trying to bring him closer to my painfully hard nipples.
In one motion, his cock slides inside me with little resistance and his mouth closes around my nipple. He moans at the feel of me. My inner walls squeeze around him and he swears, his grip on my wrists tightening.
He stays there, completely still as he worships my breasts, and I’m a quivering mess. “Puck.” My voice contains all the pleading I won’t allow myself to say.
“That’s right,” he says, resting his forehead against mine. “Scream my name, princess. Let everyone at the party know who you’re so desperate for.”
My heart rate increases at the thought of people hearing us. His pupils dilate. “Fuck, you like that, don’t you?” He starts pounding into me. “You like the idea that they’re listening, that anyone can walk in on us and see me fucking you like the good little slut you are.”
The words should make me furious. I should shove him off or slap him. Instead, I get wetter. Even when the magic of his shield encases us, I can’t get the image of someone walking in on us out of my mind. It fuels my desire as Puck’s pace turns punishing.
His whispered words, a mix of praise and degradation, have me meeting every thrust, chasing my pleasure. He pulls away slightly, but I follow him with my hips, slamming him back into me.
“Stop trying to top from the bottom,” he growls and shoves me roughly until I’m flush against the wall again. His body cages me in, and I’m helpless to do anything but take him. “You’re gonna come for me, princess.” It’s not a question. It’s a command. “Not just once. You’re going to come until I consume your every thought, the way you’ve been consuming mine. I’m going to ruin you for all other males.”
“Fuck off,” I grit out, even as I barrel toward my release.
“And then I’m going to come in this perfect pussy and let you go back to the party with my cum dripping down your thighs so there’s no question who owns you. Everyone will know this greedy little cunt is all mine.”
I explode.
My orgasm rips through me violently, shredding my entire being before piecing me back together. Everything I thought I knew about pleasure has been eclipsed by this male. Distantly, I hear myself scream as my head spins and my toes curl in my shoes, but I don’t care. My whole world pinpoints to the spot where Puck and I are connected. His thrusts remain brutal, building me up even as I come down from my orgasm. My skin is too sensitive and my breaths are too short, but I’m as greedy as he said.
“Goddess, you feel so good,” he rasps. “You’re so fucking wet for me, princess. You’re dripping all over my cock. Give me more.”
“Make me.”
Something dark passes over his eyes. It should make me run; it only thrills me. “You’re going to regret saying that.”
One of the vines from beside me slithers out and replaces Puck’s hands around my wrists, pinning me to the wall. I thrash under the new hold as more vines take my ankles from around his waist and tie me spread eagle to the wall. The thorns pinch my skin. The small bite of pain feels so damn good.
A final vine, this one without thorns, slides against my lips. “This okay?” he asks, and against my better judgment, I open my mouth in invitation. The vine knots and slides in, turning into a ball gag. “Talk to me, princess. Let me know I can hear your safe word.”
“Fuck you,” I spit. It comes out muffled but is easily heard. Knowing I can still back out if it gets to be too much makes me feel powerful; I’m in control even though I’m held at his mercy.
Puck steps back, surveys me, and hums in approval. His eyes are wild, his hair mussed, but he’s still completely dressed with only his erect cock jutting out of his open zipper. Saliva drips from my open mouth onto my breasts and he draws a finger down, following the trail and using the wetness to circle my nipple.
“I could leave you like this,” he muses, and I struggle against my binds. “Let the staff find you with your tits hanging out; let them see you as the perfect fuck toy you are.”
“You wouldn’t,” I manage around the gag.
“I wouldn’t. I’m the only one who gets to see you this messy.” His grin is fucking evil. “But I could.”
He drops to his knees. His magic hauls my skirt up so it hovers around my waist, and he yanks down my panties.
Then, his mouth closes around me. And, by the goddess, that mouth. He knows what he’s doing, expertly switching between flicking my clit, sucking, and long licks where his tongue dips inside my entrance.
When I attempt to ride his mouth, the vines around my legs tighten, keeping me still. His fingers sink inside me and my orgasm is swift, a fast-burning blaze that ignites every inch of my body.
When Puck stands, his hand is wrapped around his cock, and he’s working it in fast strokes. A bead of precum leaks from the tip, making my mouth water. “I know you want this, but you don’t get it,” he says, his voice gritty as he restrains himself. The realization that he’s not going to fuck me anymore is painful; I want him back inside me so badly I’m willing to beg.
Another vine, this one smooth and thick, traces my slit and dips inside me. Once it’s in, it swells to the size of a cock. “I’m going to fuck you with my magic, and then I’m going to come all over that pretty pink pussy. Understand?”
He removes the gag. “What happened to filling me with your cum?” I taunt. His nostrils flare. “What happened to letting it drip—” I inhale as the vine hits my G-spot, “—down my thighs. Are you all talk? Too much of a—
The gag slides back in place, choking off my insult as the vine inside me starts to vibrate. My eyes roll back. I want to hold off, to force his hand into fucking me again. I want him as undone as he’s made me, but it’s so hard. I’m right on the edge. Puck must realize this because another vine starts vibrating on my clit. Oh, my fuck.
“What was that?” Puck taunts. “I’m too much of a what?”
I can’t hold off any longer and I come violently, my body bucking against the restraints as my cries are obstructed by the gag. Puck advances on me like a predator, grabbing my chin in one hand while the other keeps stroking his cock. “Look at me,” he says. “You don’t get to hide from this. I want you to know exactly who’s making you come this hard—making you feel this fucking good.” I’m so lost in the bliss of my orgasm that I obey.
With our eyes locked, he grunts and something warm hits the cluster of curls above my apex. He looks down as he paints my skin with his release, squeezing out every last drop.
For a moment, we stay there, panting as we come down from our orgasms. Then, he says, “Look.” He releases my gag and my arms. I lean forward enough to see the sticky ropes of cum coating the outside of my pussy. “I still branded you.”
I’m unable to think of a retort. My post-orgasm brain is all over the place, endorphins muddling my train of thought.
Gently, almost reverently, Puck releases the other binds and places my feet on the grass. My knees buckle, but he’s there, holding me up as he lifts my bodice to cover my breasts again. His magic kisses my skin as he removes all evidence of both our orgasms, righting my makeup, my hair, and my dress—until all proof that this event occurred is lost.
He stays, holding me against him as I tremble, coming down from the immense high. “Shhh,” he soothes, rubbing my back until my breathing returns to normal. “I’ve got you, princess.”
Somehow, that scares me more than being restrained by him. I know it’s just aftercare and doesn’t mean anything, but this tender side of Puck is freaking me out.
I push away from him, opting to lean against the wall instead of his chest. When he attempts to step forward, I extend my hand, keeping some semblance of space between us.
“This was a one-time thing,” I assert. “To get it out of our systems. Nothing more.”
He tucks a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “Sure it was.”
As he meanders back toward the party, I sink to the ground in a sea of tulle. It’s only when he’s out of the garden that I let myself admit that was the best sex of my life, and I already want more.