Page 62 of Fae Trials

His wings sliced through the air like blades, propelling us over the market. Prince Rory flew toward the highest amphitheater tiers. “They can trail after us on foot all they like, but it’s illegal for a fairy to stalk a member of the royal family.”

“Where are we going?”

His harsh laugh sent a shiver racing down my spine. It settled between my legs, where it continued to tingle. “It’s time to test your skills at oral pleasure.”

“Oh.” The tingle intensified.

Moments later, we reached a set of low, Tudor-style buildings complete with dark wooden beams and white rendering. Prince Rory flew through an open window into a cozy parlor consisting of a chaise lounge and low tables, and then he set me onto my feet.

I knelt between his spread legs and rested my hands on his hot, muscular thighs. Arousal pulsed through my core at being so close to this gorgeous creature, but I tamped down my desire, tilted my head up, and scowled.

Prince Rory’s forest-green eyes sparkled. “Look at you, pretending not to want it when I can smell your need.”

My teeth ground together, and I squeezed my thighs tight. “I’m not—”

“Don’t lie.” He gave me a gentle tap on the nose. “The more powerful the fae, the more adept he is at sensing when a female is close to heat.”

I shook my head. This was regular old arousal that I felt for Elijah, for the Lumberjacks of Switzerland. “You’re wrong.”

He leaned back, resting his weight on his hands. “Deny it all you want, but there’s no mistaking that oral sex is part of the trial.”

“I’m only doing this because I’ll get decapitated if I don’t.”

Prince Rory snorted. “If that makes you feel better about giving in to your wanton desires, sure.”

“Fine.” I lowered my gaze down from his handsome face, over his broad shoulders, and to the prominent pecs straining from the front of his shirt. My tongue darted out to lick my lips, and his green eyes tracked the movement.

Prince Rory moaned, the sound going straight to my folds. “Are you ready to start the next trial?”

“Has your other fated mate performed this round yet?”

He snorted. “I wouldn’t let that faerie anywhere near my royal cutlass.”

I smirked at the image of a curved sword between his legs.

“Do you prefer the human term, crown jewels?” He paused to gauge my reaction. “How about cock?”

A fevered breath puffed out from my lips. “Say that again?”

“Suck my cock, Unity,” he said, the depth of his voice curling around my libido and squeezing tight. “Slide my organ between your plump lips and moan.”

Wetness gathered in my folds. This was ridiculous. I hadn’t even lowered my gaze to his crotch, and I was already so turned on. My gaze swept down his torso to the erection straining through his black pants. I trailed my finger along its hot length, enjoying hearing him hiss through his teeth.

“Unbutton my breeches,” he said.

Without meaning to, my hands slid up to the waistband of his pants, and I slid the top button out from its hole.

“Yes,” he moaned. “Unwrap your prize.”

Normally, I would laugh in a guy’s face if he implied his dick was some kind of reward. Maybe Prince Rory standing up for me at the blacksmith’s had been a complete turn on. What girl wouldn’t want a gorgeous, powerful male coming to her rescue? Even if the male had threatened my life, his presence still gave me an inexplicable thrill.

I fastened the next button, then the next, until a huge, bulbous tip protruded through his fly with a bead of pre-cum so pearlescent, it made my mouth water.

“Look at you,” he growled. “Hungry for royal cock.”

The pulse between my legs beat harder than my heart, indicating that the time for denial was over. I wanted his dick in my mouth and possibly more if he would allow it.

Wetting my lips, I leaned forward for a lick.