Unsidhe Assassin (Darkly Mine Season 1)

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Unsidhe Assassin (Darkly Mine Season 1) Page 7

by Leona Windwalker


  He was awake now, I knew. I’d felt the quiver of magic as the locking spell released as Keeper released him. That was followed up by a shimmer message moments later as she called me for further instructions. I wanted to be there, have him bath me, rub oil into my aching muscles, and suck me off. Yes, indeed, that would make me feel so much better. Then when the potion, bath, and the blow job had done their work, we could spend some quality time going over the rules he needed to know for now. The crucial ones, such as how to behave in public and at court, as well as his role within my household and how he was to fulfill it.

  I reached the bubble station, thankful that the rush had died down enough that I was able to catch one pretty much straight away. Then I was off the weightlessness of floating over Wynter soothing my aching body. I didn’t bother looking down at the city below me as I passed over. I’d seen it so many times that it was no longer a novelty. Instead, I closed my eyes in blessed relief and indulged in a bit of fantasy, running a scenario through my head of how I would handle Ghost when he rebelled against what I told him. Because it was definitely going to be a when and not an if. I smiled to myself, feeling my fangs drop in anticipation. Oh my, yes, I looked forward to quelling his all too short-lived rebellion.

  17

  Jase

  He wasn’t there after my breakfast and I found myself sitting in a loincloth in that oddly homey kitchen peeling spuds. The spuds were bright orange inside while the peels were a mottled orange and red, but Keeper assured me they were otherwise ordinary potatoes. When she passed me purple and red carrots, I didn’t bat an eye, I’d seen those at Whole Foods before so while exotic, they still fell within what I could consider normal.

  She pulled out a roast of some kind from that magic fridge of hers and sat it on the counter.

  “Have you had buffalo before?” Keeper asked me, opening one of the lower cabinets. I stared as she pulled out a very retro-looking Crockpot, one of those 70s ones. Only it wasn’t. It had the look down pat, if they came in a soft sage green to match the cabinets, no controls, and lacked a plug of any kind. I watched as she took the lid off of the round pot and placed the pound of peeled and quartered potatoes, the carrots, and then the roast inside. The roast alone should have been too large for the pot, but it went in like it had been placed in Mary Poppins’ bag. Then she re-opened the fridge and brought out a covered bowl, which proved to be filled with just the right amount of pre-diced red onion to go into the pot.

  “I had a buffalo burger once,” I admitted. “It was pretty good.”

  “Good, good. Then you’ll probably like this.”

  I probably would, at that. It was a kind of beef, pretty much, and I loved my red meat.

  Next, she took out a jug from the fridge and poured it over. “I make all my own stock,” she confided. “None of that prepackaged stuff. Give me some fresh bones, wine, and herbs, and I can make a broth to be proud of.” She poured it over the contents of the pot. How it worked was answered when she placed the lid on, tapped the knob on the top, and said, “Hello, pot. High heat for two hours, please, then four more on medium.” Glowing numbers and letters appeared in the air above the pot, reading 2:00 H 4:00 M. A minute later, I discovered it was a count down as the 2:00 became 1:59.

  “Ready for lunch?” she asked me.

  I was ready for a stiff drink, if I was honest.

  “Can you fit two more of us in to eat?” rumbled a voice. I turned to look at the speaker. Two High Fae stood in the doorway of the kitchen, dressed as if they had come from a battle scene in a Lord of the Rings movie. Only without all the blood, gore, and sweat, thankfully.

  Keeper bowed her head respectfully, reaching a hand out to tap me on the arm, obviously wanting me to do the same. Right, the rules at work again. Not wanting to be fed to a dragon or something for offending these two, I dipped my chin.

  “I can, but surely you’d be more comfortable out of all that armor?” she replied.

  This earned her a chuckle. “Yes, we would, eh, Ash?” the pale blond one asked his dark-haired companion.

  “Probably,” Ash agreed. “So, this is the human we’ve heard so much about.”

  Keeper threw me a warning glance. “Yes, he’s waiting for the master to return. He hasn’t been through orientation yet.”

  Orientation, huh? She made it sound so normal, as if I’d taken a regular job at some ordinary company.

  “I see, well, in that case, I’ll overlook his insolence.”

  Cold gripped my heart. What had I done this time? I’d bowed my head and hadn’t said anything rude. Jiminy Cricket on a pogo stick, this was going to be more dangerous than the sandbox I’d taken up freelancing to get away from. When Willow, I refused to call him master or lord, showed up, I hoped he provided me with a printed booklet listing all of these gods damned rules. I rather fancied keeping my head and not being turned into a toad or something.

  The other behemoth inclined his head. “Come on, Ash, let’s go drop our armor in the guard room and get cleaned up to eat.” He gave me a lazy wave as he left. “See you in a bit, Ghost.”

  Great, they knew my name, but I didn’t know theirs. “Who was that?” I asked in a low voice once they were gone.

  Keeper pursed her lips at me. “That was Captain Glade and Lieutenant Ash, head of our master’s private guard.”

  “They seemed annoyed with me.”

  “You were supposed to get down off your seat and bow, then keep your head and eyes down until given permission to look up,” she told me.

  “But you didn’t,” I pointed out.

  “I gave a bow suitable to my station,” she said primly. “They are in my domain and as housekeeper, I am equal in rank when it comes to domestic matters.”

  And I was the bottom rung, I heard loud and clear. Shit, that meant I should have bowed to Keeper, then, too, didn’t it?

  “You don’t have to bow to me unless anyone else is present,” she said as if reading my mind. “I’ve got better things to do than have the help bowing and scraping at me all the time.” She opened a metal box on the counter, pulling out a fresh loaf. “You had the last of the sliced bread with your breakfast. You can slice this up.” She took out a bread knife and a wooden chopping board and cut off two slices, demonstrating. “Keep the slices the same size,” she said, standing aside so I could take her place.

  “Slice the whole thing?” I asked her, feeling dizzy. As she’d stepped away from the counter, the top of her head once more was barely level with the countertop. I’d looked. Her feet had been on the floor the whole time, too.

  “Yes. They’ll want to take some sandwiches down for the men watching the doors.”

  This was news to me. The first day, Willow didn’t have any guards that I could see. “I didn’t know he had any guards,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant.

  “There’s a lot of things you don’t know,” was all she said.

  18

  Willow

  I could smell the delicious scent of roasting meat as I entered. Keeper was doing an excellent job, as usual. I walked to the kitchen, pausing at the door as I drank in the sight of Ghost sitting bare-chested at the island, his long, well-muscled legs bare, only the counter overhang and a small scrap of cloth offering him any notion of modesty.

  “Something smells good,” I said, letting my eyes roam over his body to let him know he looked pretty tasty as well.

  “Lord Willow!” Keeper squeaked, turning away from the cake she was frosting and bowing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “No matter,” I replied. “How was our boy today? Did he behave himself?”

  Ghost visibly bristled at that.

  “He did as he was told. He met Captain Glade and Lieutenant Ash when they came to get lunch.”

  Ah, did he now?

  “And how did that go?” I asked softly, not taking my eyes off of him.

  “Reasonably well. He needed a nudge was all.”

  A nudge, huh? Better that than the punis
hment he could have faced for not showing proper deference. It wouldn’t do for everyone to be so soft on him, though. I made a mental note to only allow Keeper to be gentle with him. She could be his haven. He’d need one, everyone did.

  “Good, good. I’d like a bath before dinner. I rode a new horse home from the palace and could use a soak.”

  “Dinner’ll keep,” she said, scurrying for the bell on the counter. She rang it and our water sprite appeared in the sink. “Lord Willow is ready for a soak,” she told her. The sprite nodded and disappeared down the drain.

  “What was that?” Ghost demanded, sounding shocked.

  “A water sprite,” I told him. I hadn’t even been home ten minutes, and already he’d earned a correction. He needed to be more polite when addressing those above his station. He had no official position as anything but mine right now, as he hadn’t been given Crown approval of his professional status yet.

  “Of course it was,” I heard him mutter. Oh, I was going to enjoy each and every minute, and the more he ran his mouth, the harsher I got to be. A frisson of anticipation ran through me, my cock hardening at the possibilities before me.

  “Come,” I told him. “You may undress me.”

  “What? No! You hired me as an assassin, not a kitchen boy and valet!”

  “Keeper, please have the box moved into my room while I soak,” I told her. “And the cross into the living room. Oh, and call Captain Glade and have him bring some of the men up to witness.”

  The sudden silence from my boy told me that he understood something particularly nasty was about to go down and that it probably involved him. I turned and left the room. If he followed me and did as I asked now, the duration of his punishment would be shorter. Not too short, mind. he needed to be taught a damned good lesson.

  “Fine,” he said shortly, dogging my heels. “I’ll undress you.”

  His tone said it was anything but fine as far as he was concerned. To me, it was perfect. He’d given an inch and I still got to push his limits. I continued to the bedroom, acting as if I hadn’t heard him.

  “I’m sorry, okay?” he tried as I stood in the middle of my room. “I’m still getting used to all this.”

  I held my arms out. “Are you going to stand there and make excuses, or are you going to undress me?”

  He stepped forward and began unbuttoning my shirt.

  “Am I going to have to go back into that thing?” he asked, jerking his chin towards the cage.

  “At some point,” I replied, being vague on purpose.

  “I meant tonight,” he ground out, his jaw working as he tied and failed to keep his tone entirely civil, his gaze fixed on his task.

  “And I said, at some point.” His time in the box was getting longer and longer.

  Undoing the last button, he moved to slide my shirt down my shoulders, tugging it off over my hands before folding it and placing it on the bed. He reached for my belt as I toed off my shoes.

  “On your knees,” I said.

  He narrowed his eyes and ground his teeth together but obeyed without saying a word in response for once. I knew he expected me to make a move on him but now was not that time. First came my comfort, then his punishment, followed by dinner. After that, a good look at the plans the masons drew up, followed by a night’s rest. It was an excellent way to spend the evening, I decided, despite the change in plans. As he bent down to lift up my foot to free me from my trousers, I got a good view of the curve of his ass, the loincloth having worked itself a bit to one side. A firm globe peeked out, a ripe peach ready for the plucking.

  Peach…I suddenly knew just the thing. I grinned, recalling exactly what I had in my toy chest. This was going to be first-rate if what I suspected about him was true. My cock throbbed in anticipation, and he reared back as he knelt back up.

  “Careful with that thing!”

  And if I used what I had at my disposal for his time in the box, it would be sublime. For me, anyway. Just how far I’d go was entirely up to him and so far, it looked like I was going to have free rein. It was almost enough to make me want to shoot.

  He tugged down my boxers and my cock smacked him in the face, leaving a damp patch on his cheek. His scruff gleamed wetly from where my pre-cum wet it. He jerked his head back once more, a hand pausing halfway to his face before he changed his mind. He must have realized that it would be an offense to wipe it off. He clamped his lips even tighter together, the edges of his lips going white from the force. Blowing a breath forcibly through his nose, he bent down over feet, reaching for my right foot to remove my sock.

  I allowed my smirk to widen enough to show my now-dropped fangs, my cock jerking in response to the way he froze as he caught sight of them as he straightened up after removing both of my socks. He was definitely trainable, just stubborn, and I had the remedy for that.

  19

  Jase

  The horny bastard made me undress him and follow him into the bath. Not into the actual tub, thank god, but the separate room he had the tub itself in. It was connected to the room with the toilet and sink via a little door. Another door connected it directly to the bedroom. We didn’t use that one because of the next indignity he wanted me to suffer before taking his bath.

  “Kneel down,” he ordered, pointing to a spot on the floor next to the toilet, between it and the sink. Thinking he wanted me to sit there on my knees and wait while he took a shit, I did as I was told. I didn’t like it, but it wasn’t worth missing dinner while getting arm and leg cramps from being forced back into the cage. “No, not like that. Face me.” I turned about. “Hold my cock.”

  Hell no.

  “Hold.My. Cock.”

  I moved to stand up. “Enough of this shit!” I never made it, his arm shooting out to shove me, hard. I overbalanced, falling back the short distance and cracking the back of my head and shoulders against the tiles on the wall.

  “I said kneel!” he roared.

  Oh shit, that sparkly haze wasn’t all me seeing stars from the knock to my noggin. It was flaring from around him, concentrated around his raised hands. I looked up to face and wished I hadn’t. Flames danced in his eyes and the fangs I saw peeking out earlier were longer, thicker, and sharper. I was fucked. He was about to flay me alive.

  I scrambled back onto my knees, ducking my head down. “I’m sorry, Lord Willow,” I said, hating the tinge of fear I heard in my voice. I was not used to being afraid, not anymore. Not since leaving my daddy’s house and joining the Army, anyway. Not even when I was in some war zone, set up to take down some warlord with my sniper rifle. Cautious, yes, afraid no. Until now. It didn’t matter how much of a badass I was back in the human realm. Here, I was defenseless against their magic. Magic, which every god damned body had except for me.

  “Hold my cock,” he repeated a third time. I sagged in relief. Thank fuck, he was giving me another chance. I reached out with the hand closest to him, closing my hand gently around him. It was quite the handful, being both long and thick with heavy balls beneath. Dude was hung like a bull. “Now, kiss it.”

  The magic was still flaring. I had a split second to make a decision. Give in and be his bitch, kissing his cock, or face magical dismemberment or worse. I kissed the tip.

  “With tongue.”

  I opened my mouth, stroking the head of his cock with my tongue, dipping the tip into his slit.

  “Yes, just like that. Now suck it.”

  Didn’t he have to piss? Please don’t let him piss in mouth, I prayed. I opened my mouth wider, sliding the bulbous head into my mouth. I reached my other hand up and began using my two hands to jack off what I couldn’t fit in my mouth comfortably as I bobbed my head up and down experimentally. I didn’t get to do hookups very often, and while I liked being fucked, I usually was the one getting sucked. I told myself that this was my choice. I chose to do this rather than accept the other option. I was okay. I ignored the little voice in my head whispering that I was a liar.

  He groaned, his hands land
ing on my head, his fingers curling tightly in my hair. The sting of my scalp, the mix of salty and sweet that was the taste of him, the scent of freshly fallen snow and fresh pine that was his scent, and the sound of his satisfaction all went straight to my own traitorous dick. I couldn’t even hide it, thanks to having my hands full and only wearing a glorified hanky on a string.

  “So good,” he breathed. “Look at you, you’re enjoying it.” He gave a hard thrust, shoving his dick deeper despite my grip. I choked. “Remove your hands.”

  The light of his magic was dimmer than before, so doing as he wished was definitely the way to go if I wanted to save my ass. I’d made the right choice. I dropped my hands. He began seesawing in and out, holding my head in place. I choked as he rammed his meat in, battering the back of my throat relentlessly. I focused on trying to breathe through my nose. Tears streamed from my eyes, but I didn’t care. It was terrible. It was also so very, very good, his domination sparking that something within me that loved being held down and fucked. I hated myself a bit for that. His rhythm became more erratic, then, pinning me tight against his groin, he grunted, filling my throat with his come.

  I moved then, anticipating him letting me go.

  “Remain still, we’re not done yet,” he murmured.

  My eyes widened. No…

  He never went entirely soft. I felt him stiffen a bit more, then let me go and pull out.

  “Hold my cock, I need to piss,” he said.

  Thank fuck for that. For a minute, I thought he was going to piss down my throat. I did as he asked, aiming it for the center of the bowl. A long yellow stream hit the water, then stopped. He placed his hand on mine. “Don’t shake it off. Lick me clean.”

 

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