by A. B. Keuser
She laughed, but when she trailed her fingers down the skin of his chest, winding through the maze of metal he suffered through, Isabelle found herself fingers to tip with his very erect, very much freed cock.
Twisting her mouth in a devious grin, she glanced at him before she used both hands to slowly press the fabric down. Lowering her head in the movement, she let the soft skin brush against her cheek, and smiled as it bounced up at the brush of her cheek’s touch.
She dragged her hand up his leg and grinned to herself. Hard as steel when she gripped him, she turned that smile on Arthur. He didn’t see her. His head was tipped back, his eyes closed. The expression was one of the most delicious things she’d ever seen.
Licking her lips, she turned back to the hard shaft she’d been stroking. It was her turn to have a little fun.
She swirled her tongue around the tip of him and felt him jerk suddenly away.
“What are you doing?” Arthur’s voice was ragged.
Isabelle pressed her lips together and hoped she hadn’t crossed a line. “If you don’t like it… I can stop.”
He stared at her, mouth opening and closing before his adam’s apple bobbed.
“I’ll take that as a no.” Licking her lips again, she kissed the tip of his erection and slowly took it into her mouth.
Stopping when her lips popped over the fleshy ridge of his head, using her hand as a boundary. Looking up at him, she pulled it from her mouth with a loud pop. His stomach spasmed in front of her, and she licked him from base to tip before pressing him into her mouth again.
Working down his cock, using her hand to help as she took more of him with each bob of her head. There was no chance she’d take it all, and when she paused for breath, keeping up the motion with her hand, she watched his face—eyes closed in ecstasy—for a moment before she sucked again.
He stopped her then. With a hand in her hair, he pulled her away and moved to lift her to her feet.
“My turn,” he said, his voice a ragged whisper.
He picked her up and tossed her onto the bed, kneeling before dragging her back so that her legs draped over his shoulders.
His hands held her still—one on her stomach, the other gripping her thigh against his shoulder—and his mouth was on her before she could squirm.
His tongue licked the whole of her wet heat and as he swept his tongue upward, he teased at the sensitive bundle of flesh at the top with his thumb.
Moving his fingers to slip inside of her, he turned his mouth’s attention to where his thumb had just been and she arched as his teeth raked over the tender nub and two of his fingers slipped inside her.
She could lie there letting him worship her like that all night, but….
“Arthur?”
He mumbled an assent as he licked her one last time.
“I want you. I’m yours, and no matter what any dark fairy says, you’re mine.”
He grinned up at her and then moved over her like a prowling jungle cat, and for a moment, she wondered if this wasn’t a very bad idea.
In spite of that, her whole body tingled and she rose up on her elbows until their lips barely brushed against each other. “Make me come.”
Eleven
Three little words had never before burned through him with desire.
He could still taste her on his lips, feel her wetness on his tongue. His muscles twitched at the memory of her mouth on him, at the understanding that soon, he’d be buried in her again, in his bed. Her words had struck deeply. More permanent and painful and… right, than any of the cogs that pierced his skin.
The thought of her made him hard, and having her here drove him mad.
He used his right hand to hold himself up and nudged her legs open as he settled between them. She glanced from him down to where his erection bobbed over her belly and he traced the line of her jaw with his thumb.
“I’ve never wanted anything more than I want you, Isabelle. I want to make you happy.”
Holding his gaze, she reached between them and grasped his cock, positioning him at the wet center of her heat. He closed his eyes as the sensitive skin overloaded with sensations. She trailed both of her hands down his arms and pressed her heels into the mattress beside his knees.
“You are what makes me happy,” she said, her voice so soft… and then, she pressed up slowly sliding herself onto him as he tensed, holding deathly still.
Inside her again his body knew what to do. He thrust into her, shallow strokes at first as he tangled his free hand in her hair and pulled her mouth to his. She whimpered against his lips and he kissed her, swallowing the sounds that came next.
Biting his lower lip, she arched against him and he took the chance to reach behind her. One hand on her ass, the other holding them up, he flipped them over on his back. Ignoring the twinge of his worst cogs, he held her upright and watched as she rode him. Hands trailing over the scratches on her skin, he brushed one of her dusky nipples and felt a latent spike of heat rush through him as she dropped her head back and let out the most delicious sound.
She rocked with him and laughed against his mouth when their bodies slapped together in an odd smack. That laughter died a second later as he flipped her back over and she thrust herself against his moving hips. He took hold of her jaw and kissed her as a low groan slipped from her mouth into his.
Pulling her hair back so that her neck was exposed to him, he licked the skin from her collarbone to her ear. As if on cue, she arched her back, pressing her breasts to his chest. Her nipples brushed against his skin and she went rigid in his arms.
She came screaming his name, and he followed a moment later.
Caged over her, he waited for his muscles to stop flickering with the electric current she sent through him, and rolled to the side, staring up at the dark canopy of his bed.
Isabelle let out a pleased sigh, and he rolled off the bed, walking blindly to the table where he kept an ever present pitcher of water, and stacks of clean cloths. When he returned, her head lolled toward him and the smile on her lips pierced his heart.
He kissed the inside of her knee as he bent down and methodically cleaned her. He left the cloth on the table after he’d dealt with himself and blew out the low candles before crawling back into the bed.
Arthur watched her face in the bright starlight slanting through the window as her eyes fluttered closed. Her hand found his, fingers twining, and for the first time since he could remember, the metal marring his flesh did not keep him from falling swiftly to sleep.
*
Isabelle stirred as something tugged on her groggy mind, and her eyes opened to the brightness of a full moon shining through the tower windows.
The clock chimed, its droning bells hit by the hammer once… twice….
Arthur sat bolt upright, and Isabelle flinched beside him, fully awake.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
He threw himself out of the bed and held a hand out to her. “Stay there; I don’t want you to—”
His words were cut off as he doubled over. Sliding off the bed, she froze when he dropped to his knees.
The fire in the grate roared to life, and the tingle of magic filled the air.
The cogs in his skin fell to the floor, hitting the stones with heavy thunks and clinks.
As they rolled away, they disappeared, dissolving through the cracks.
Breathing heavily, he stood, and for the first time, she saw Arthur as he had been, before the dark fairy’s enchantment had touched him.
Three inches taller, his eye fully open, and with clear, untouched skin, he barely looked like the same man.
His eyes went from her to the clock above the mantel and he cursed. “I thought we had one more night.”
He threw open the dresser and pulled on clothes she hadn’t seen before… clothes fit for a royal.
“Please, whatever happens, stay here. If she sees you….” He swallowed heavily and looked as though he would cross to her, but didn’t. “I h
ave to go… or she’ll come looking for me and find you.”
He jerked the door open and hurried into the dark corridors of the palace, leaving her alone in the room lit only by dwindling firelight.
Shivering as a cold breath of air crossed over her skin, she methodically went about getting dressed. She would not sit idly by.
She would need to know her enemy if she was going to help Arthur escape this imprisonment.
Closing Arthur’s door behind her, she paused and listened to the quiet of the castle. Faint music drifted to her from far down the corridor.
The music tugged at her from the same direction as Arthur’s pull on her heart. Its haunting melody enticed her along the hall as though she were in a trance.
She moved down the stairs from the tower one measured step at a time.
The castle stood in complete silence and as she looked over the railings, down into the dimly lit darkness, she couldn’t even hear the ever-present clatter of Agathina’s mechanicals.
He might have told her to stay, but the turmoil Arthur was in would not let her rest.
Sneaking down the stairs, she stopped on the level the boys had claimed for their own.
To her left, the faint glimmer of starlight shone through a distant window, and she walked toward it, remembering Lord Cat Chaser’s tour, and the brief moment she’d had with Arthur.
A book lay in the middle of the corridor floor—the one she’d been reading to the boys—picking it up and smoothing back the page that had been rumpled by its fall, she glanced to the open door.
It was one of the rooms the boys had turned into a dormitory. Even with rooms aplenty for them to each have their own, they’d chosen to share.
The beds were empty, the covers cast aside, sheets rumpled.
Swallowing the fear that had silently crept up on her, she moved toward the architectural detail the little lordling had showed her.
At the far end of the corridor, a small balcony overlooked the side courtyard. She set the book down on the hall table, creeping toward the edge to look through the gaps in the thick stone railing.
Below her, figures danced and twirled to the haunting music. Glittering golden instruments played themselves as fairy lights hovered like glowing amber bubbles, illuminating the tiled ground below.
All the boys were present, their faces covered in masks made of intricate puzzles of gears. The children danced with mechanical girls. Copper skin, sculpted zinc hair, eyes dead and unmoving as they twirled around the courtyard to the music, the mechanical girls smiled at their human partners unwaveringly. The display sent a shiver up her spine.
In the center, two figures dwarfed the others around them. Of the two, Isabelle’s eyes were drawn to the tall and beautiful woman. Her glittering white hair, held in place by intricate and vicious brass combs. Her face pale as moonlight, she smiled maliciously at her partner. And as she twirled, the lights floating about them, reflected off the wings sprouting from her shoulder blades—all gears and cogs—sweeping as their mechanisms clicked in time with the music.
Isabelle stared at the enchanting beauty of her until she twirled and her eyes fell on the woman’s partner.
Arthur stood tall, proud, and rigid. His face was covered with the same metal mask as the children. Wide circles around his eyes made them the only part of him visible in the lights bobbling around them. He did not look at his partner.
His eyes were fixed on the stone tiles at their feet.
Isabelle watched him, the grace with which he moved and found herself completely distracted from the gorgeous woman he led around the dance floor.
They twirled and his gaze traveled up. His eyes locked with hers, and suddenly she knew, Arthur was right. She should have stayed in the room.
*
Arthur’s heart seized at the sight of Isabelle’s face peeking through the small balcony’s balusters. He looked quickly away, and silently prayed she would run back to the room before the Agathina saw her.
Towering over him, Agathina forced him to lead her around the dance floor, her claw-like fingers holding tight to his shoulder, to his hand. She moved with a fluid grace that belied her nature. A fact Arthur would never forget.
“Quiet as always, my prince.” The dark fairy looked down at him, a wisp of white hair falling over her eyes. They were black as night, black as the maliciousness of her soul. She smiled cruelly at him and fluttered her fingertips against his neck.
“How long before you surrender to me? It would be so easy. Imagine a life without pain.” Her words flowed over him as smoothly—as scarring—as molten metal. “What worries would you have with me by your side, as your queen?”
Arthur never missed the clue that she called him a prince and herself a queen. The first led him to believe his parents still lived. The second made him sure they would not if he acquiesced.
Even without that, the price of her promises were too high.
“I want to give you everything you desire… all I ask is one tiny thing in return.” She leaned in close, her breath slithering over his ear, cold and wet. “Why are you still fighting me?”
Agathina could speak all the lies she wanted, he hadn’t been idle in his time under her spell. The books detailing each fairy’s exploits in the human realm were thorough. His grandfather had succumbed to a dark fairy’s lusty promises. His grandfather had paid a heavy price for those desires and the people under his rule had suffered in ways too subtle to truly comprehend.
His kingdom, his father’s kingdom was better off without him than they would be with Agathina as their cruel queen.
As she studied his eyes, looking for a weakness he couldn’t give her, he knew she would say anything she thought he wanted to hear to get her way.
“I am glad,” he said finally. “That there is no other prince for you to set your claws into. I know what mettle I am made of. Another man might believe your empty promises.”
She smiled at him as though he were an ignorant child who simply needed his mind opened to the possibilities she presented.
“We will be stronger together than you could have ever been on your own.”
She would devour him and spit out his bones if he gave in to her demands. He knew what his fate would be… the boys, he could not imagine. Her hold would expand to cover not only him, his castle and those who dwelled within it, but the whole of the kingdom. She could conceivably use the power she could draw from him, from his family, and from the child she would carve out of him to destroy any other fairy who tried to stand in her way. With his acquiescence, she could take over the whole of Lonterra.
“I will do anything you want, Arthur,” Agathina repeated, dragging a cold claw under his chin.
“Then end this enchantment and never return.” Glancing back at the balcony, his heart shuddered as he saw Isabelle hadn’t yet fled.
“What are you looking at?” Agathina turned, and Arthur caught her face in his hand, drawing her back to him.
He knew it was a mistake before she leaned in to him.
She smiled and he felt the mask shift and change around his face. Her lips burned his as she kissed him. Scorching and wrong, her lips parted his and her tongue sliced at his like a hot knife.
Her delight was palpable; it rolled over him in nauseating waves until he finally managed to pull away. His contact was what she desired. It was the only way she could take from him. While her magic made doing things to him simple, what she desired meant she had to gain a modicum of his free will.
Breathless, she held his face in her hands, sharp claws pressing at his flesh, threatening to break his skin. “Have you decided to accept my offer?”
His eyes darted to the empty balcony and then to the moon above their head. He pulled away from her. “No.”
A screeching growl echoed from her clenched teeth and he took a step away. “Your time among us is over. Do what you will to me, but I will not give you the power to remain among us.”
She glared at him, pressing herself to sta
nd at full height, her metal wings flaring out – glittering in the moonlight. He’d never known how terrible and terrifying beauty could be until he’d met her.
“Do not toy with me, Arthur Velois. I could kill you in an instant.”
Arthur stared up at her. He had no doubt that she could kill him. But he was also certain she wouldn’t. She needed him too much – she’d invested too much time into him.
With a flick of her wrist, the metal girls who’d danced with the orphans flew into the air, shattered into thousands of pieces and rained down on them, each piece embedding in flesh. The boys would each receive one new adornment. Arthur did not try to count as his body was pelted with cog after cog. They bit into his flesh, their metal teeth tearing into him, and he clenched his jaw waiting for it to all be over.
The moon hit its zenith, and Agathina was pulled from their realm back to her own. The cogs that had not found a body fell to the ground with a heavy clatter, and Arthur tumbled to the flagstones with them. Blood stained his torn shirt, and he stared up at the darkness of the night sky as the boys gathered around him, solemn and silent.
He did not know how many more full moons he would survive.
*
Isabelle threw herself away from the balcony, not because of the look in Arthur’s eyes—though that was frightening enough on its own. She fled the decay that emanated from the dark fairy. The same evil magic that held him, bound by dark threads, and played with the boys as though they were puppets.
Swallowing the ugly bile that rose in her throat at the pervading darkness that washed through the castle, she took two unsteady steps intending to head back to Arthur’s room. Her progress stalled when she heard someone coming. In the silence that still echoed through the castle, the ugly screech of an unoiled door made her flinch.
She ducked into the boys’ room and held her breath as the sound of too-heavy footsteps passed by her door. Waiting, she listened as whoever it was—whatever it was—walked with heavy steps to the end of the corridor. There, it paused and then return to pass by her again, heading back the way it had come. Listening, she counted each breath until she was certain the person was gone.