He’d positioned the furs near a wall of the grotto that boasted a jutting crag of stone at head height. He used that rock as an anchor point to suspend Albigard’s left leg in the air, lifting his hips enough to provide easy access. His right leg, Len bound with a frog-tie, bent double. When he was satisfied, he went back to jerking Albigard’s cock until the Fae began to writhe against the bonds... and discovered that he couldn’t move more than a few inches in any direction.
“There. That’s much better,” Len said, letting him go again.
The Fae’s heavy erection fell against his stomach, twitching and leaking from the tip. Albigard breathed raggedly, trying to regain control of himself.
The exposed position gave Len a clearer view of the lower parts of Albigard’s tattoo than he’d ever really had before. His earlier impression had been right—while the top spread over the Fae’s chest like branches, narrowing to a twisted trunk following the taut line of his abs, the bottom edges curled around the base of Albigard’s cock and his balls, spanning his hips and inner thighs to spill onto his glutes, as well. Len traced the organic shapes with a feather-light touch, watching in fascination as they twisted independently, moving beneath his fingertips.
Magic... like so much about the Fae currently on display beneath him.
“Is this tattoo supposed to represent Chaima?” he asked, curiosity overcoming him. He followed the curving black lines over sensitive flesh, feeling the faintest tingles of power through his skin.
Albigard shuddered. “Yes,” he rasped.
“Huh,” Len said. “As someone famous once said, I guess irony can be pretty ironic sometimes.” He gave the twisting roots a final stroke and reached for the simple ball gag he’d brought from Earth. “Anyway, I think that’s enough talking. Open.”
Since Albigard was panting already, it wasn’t difficult to slip the rubber ball between his teeth. The Fae’s look of comical offense—followed almost immediately by uncertainty as Len buckled the strap around his head and he realized he couldn’t spit out the gag—was worth the price of admission all on its own.
“Show me what you’re going to do if you need to stop,” Len ordered.
Albigard stared at him for a long moment before he let his head fall back in surrender. His fingers flickered, and a little ball of glowing sparkles rose from his hand. A second ball followed a couple of seconds later.
“Well done, princeling,” Len said. “Now, it’s time for us to have some real fun.”
The oil that was available from the same carved shelf as the furs and blankets wasn’t anything Len would have recognized as proper lube. But he was also cognizant that this was a guy who refused to wear synthetic fabrics on the grounds that they were too irritating to bear against his skin.
He’d wavered over the bottle of silicone-based lube he’d brought along before deciding that other Fae were probably the best judge of what should go inside a Fae’s ass. With condoms not being an issue—since Len had tested clean after his last hookup, and his current partner had been celibate since the time of Charlemagne—Len went with the oil.
Albigard tensed as Len dribbled a copious amount of the stuff between his legs. He added some to his fingers as well and started exploring, while giving a lazy handjob at the same time. The Fae gradually relaxed into the dual sensations as Len teased and circled. By the time he worked a finger far enough inside to confirm the existence of the mythical faerie prostate, Albigard was rolling his hips restlessly, chasing both forms of stimulation.
A muffled moan escaped the gag, and Len’s dick began to wake up after his previous orgasm. With a grim smile, Len released Albigard’s cock and focused on teasing the walnut-sized bundle of nerves he’d found, while the Fae panted rapidly through his nose.
Danon wandered in as Len was in the process of introducing a second finger. He was one of the people with whom Len had spoken earlier in the evening, and he’d seemed happy enough to act as an unpaid extra in the scene Len had wanted to set. Mostly, he was huge and male and intimidating, but Len trusted him to leave without being offended if the whole thing turned out not to be to Albigard’s taste.
The massive Fae came over to the edge of the pool a few feet away from them and started stripping off his clothes. Albigard’s green eyes grew very wide indeed.
Danon ran an impassive gaze over Len’s rope work, and gestured at the ball gag. “That’s a clever little toy,” he said. “Finally decided to break this one in good and proper, did you?”
A tremor ran through Albigard’s body, and Len felt the hard clench around his fingers. No ball of glowing sparkles sprang from the Fae’s hand, though.
“I figured it was time he started earning his keep,” Len replied. “Can’t be too soft with the prisoners, or they might forget why they’re here in the first place.”
Danon grunted in agreement and lowered his body into the pool, arranging himself sideways on the stone bench so he could watch the proceedings.
“Anyway,” Len continued, “the line forms on the left.” He paused. “Do you like men? I should’ve asked earlier.”
“Eh, I prefer women, but I’m not picky,” Danon said. “A fair number of the pretty boys who end up here are in desperate need of a good reaming.”
“Right?” Len agreed, and twisted his wrist. “I told this one the same thing. I said, any time when you aren’t getting fucked is a tragic waste.” He gestured at Albigard’s bound body with his free hand. “I mean, look at him. If he’s not filled at both ends and covered in his own come, what’s the point of even having him here?”
Albigard made a ragged, desperate noise around the gag. His cock twitched and jumped as Len crooked his fingers, attacking his prostate with renewed determination.
“He looks like one that could go all night, it’s true,” Danon observed.
Len pulled out and dribbled more oil on his hand before adding a third finger. “The virginal ones are always the most fun,” he said, searching out the perfect angle again. “They look so surprised when they realize how much they love taking it up the ass.”
A muffled cry slipped past the gag as Albigard arched, his cock pulsing in strong spurts as he came untouched. Len kept milking him until he was a shuddering mess... and longer still, until he was whimpering and writhing, trying to get away, but with nowhere to go.
“Well,” Danon observed in a clinical tone, “he’s definitely covered in his own come now, so you’re halfway there.” He stretched, making a production of it. “Maybe I’ll go round up some of the lads while you finish giving him his first ride.”
“You do that.” Len backed off Albigard’s prostate and ran his free hand through the mess on his stomach, smearing it around. He watched, fascinated, as the tattoo of Chaima writhed once more beneath his touch, the roots and branches curling against Albigard’s pale skin. “After all, we’ve got the whole night.”
Albigard let out an unsteady breath.
Len continued stroking and scissoring him open as Danon hauled himself out of the water and dried off. The huge Fae dressed and headed out with a small, ironic salute in Len’s direction. The handful of others who’d been present when Albigard had first arrived had also left, heading for their bedrolls as midnight approached.
“Looks like it’s just you and me now, princeling,” Len said, gentling his movements as Albigard slowly turned to jelly beneath his hands. “Good thing I had you suck me off earlier, since it means I’ll last long enough now to give you the fucking you truly deserve.”
The liquid gaze that blinked up at him was its own consent—hazy pleasure shot through with wanting. Something low in Len’s stomach tightened at the sight. He slid his fingers free and washed his hands in the pool, using the bar of Irish Spring soap he’d bought for the trip... because even if no one here got the joke, it was still hilarious, thank you very much.
When he was done, he knelt beside Albigard and unbuckled the gag, sliding it out of his mouth. Albigard worked his jaw for a moment before settling back,
still half-gone.
“It’s time. Beg me for it, princeling,” Len said in a gentle tone.
“Please,” Albigard replied, without hesitation.
“Please, what?” Len prompted.
“Please take me now. I don’t want the others. I only want you.”
Len had to close his eyes for a moment. “Then you’ll only have me,” he managed. “After hearing you say that, I’m not inclined to share.”
Hands feeling none too steady, Len opened his fly and oiled his erection, kneeling over Albigard on the furs as he lined himself up. Albigard was loose and pliant beneath him, what remained of his body’s defenses giving way with remarkable ease as Len pushed in. He stilled, wanting to give his partner time to get used to the new sensation... but Albigard’s hips curled greedily, taking him all the way.
The Fae gasped, and Len bit the inside of his cheek to hold back the surge of pleasure as tight heat enveloped him. Slowly, tentatively, they built a rhythm together. Len hooked an elbow behind the knee of the leg that was tied to the rock above them, using the leverage to bend Albigard’s spine until he could reach the Fae’s lips.
They kissed, hips rolling to meet with every slow thrust, until Len felt Albigard begin to harden against his stomach. He kept up the easy rhythm until it all started to become too much. When he knew he wouldn’t be able to be hold back much longer, Len broke the kiss and knelt back, wrapping a hand around Albigard’s cock and jerking him in time with his increasingly sloppy thrusts.
The Fae went rigid, muscles locked, and his body clamped around Len’s as he came. Len was right there with him, his entire world narrowing down to the place where they were joined as his release hit him in a series of almost painful spasms.
“Jesus... god,” he cursed, gasping as his vision wavered back into focus.
Albigard was breathing heavily beneath him, and they lay in a tangle for a few moments until Len managed to reconnect his brain to his muscles. He slipped out as carefully as he could, and contemplated the intricate shibari tie for approximately two seconds before reaching for the knife he’d kept within easy reach. It took only moments to cut Albigard loose.
Len looked regretfully at the ruined rope when he was done. This was why actual shibari sex was something of a pain in the ass. No one wanted to untie dozens of knots right after they’d come as hard as Len just had. He tossed the unraveling pieces of rope aside and peeled off his jeans.
“Come here, princeling,” he said. “We’re washing off now, before your muscles seize up and the jizz dries on our stomachs.”
Albigard made a blissed out, noncommittal noise, but allowed himself to be manhandled into the nearby pool. Len slipped an arm around his shoulders and propped the Fae’s head against the crook of his neck, since he sensed that drowning avoidance tactics weren’t hugely high on Albigard’s priority list right now. He cleaned them both up as best he could. Afterward, they soaked until Len’s already relaxed muscles were in danger of melting completely, and then crawled out of the pool to collapse onto the nest of furs and blankets.
Len claimed the role of big spoon, fitting his body behind Albigard’s and pressing close. The Fae made a noise of utter contentment as Len brushed his lips against the nape of his neck.
“Love you,” Len whispered against his skin—not really having intended to say the words aloud, but not regretting them, either.
Albigard gave a sleepy hum. “Do you frequently express amorous emotions to the orangutans at the zoo?” he murmured.
A smile curved Len’s lips, as a bright bubble of amusement burst in his chest. “Not frequently, no,” he said.
“Nor I,” Albigard agreed. “It takes a very exceptional orangutan indeed.”
“Hmm,” Len said, and yawned. “Well, let me know if you ever come across such an unusual specimen.”
Albigard settled closer and covered Len’s arm with his.
“I believe I just did,” the Fae replied.
finis
*
Nigellus’ story begins in The Sixth Demon: Book One. Read on for an exclusive sneak peek!
*
Want more Len and Alby? Get the exclusive free epilogue to the Forsaken Fae series—Blood Ties.
*
Do you prefer reading M/M exclusively? You might also like R. A. Steffan’s other M/M fantasy series, Master of Hounds.
The Sixth Demon: Prologue
IT TOOK ONE hundred and eighty-three years to earn the guard’s trust.
By then, she was fairly confident her demon captors had forgotten about her presence in their prison, at least for the most part. They’d been foolish to assume a Seelie Fae prisoner would be incapable of playing the long game, simply because she had stumbled into Hell in the aftermath of the Great War with missing memories and no name to call her own.
Leyak, the imp who’d been assigned by the Demon Council to guard her, leaned casually against the iron bars that formed the front wall of her cell. “How is it that you, a Fae, can understand me better than anyone else in the three realms?” he asked.
Perhaps because you are a simpleton, and no one else cared to make the effort for fear of the crushing boredom that would result, she thought.
Fae couldn’t lie, so aloud, she only said, “You are not so difficult to understand. Is being understood for one’s true self not a common desire?”
Leyak considered that for a moment. “I suppose it is,” he agreed. “Nevertheless, are you absolutely certain you wish to go through with the soul-binding?”
In a way, this was almost too easy. They had assigned her an imp guard, rather than a succubus or a demon of fate. It had probably been meant as a magnanimous gesture; a kindness to honor the spirit of the successful treaty with the Fae Court.
Imps were drawn to magic, and she had magic aplenty—hidden though it might be. It took time, but the poor fool would never have been able to resist her indefinitely.
“I am,” she said, batting wide, green eyes at him. “I feel confident that with the bond, I will be able to recall my name and why I came to be here in Hell. I don’t wish to be trapped here forever, Leyak. Perhaps if I were able to give your Council the answers they seek, they would consider lenience.”
“You miss your home,” Leyak said, with clear compassion. “You miss the Fae realm of Dhuinne.”
“I do,” she agreed, and every word she spoke was the truth. “It’s a good bargain, and I wish to strike it with you... only you. If we are successful in unlocking my memories and passing that information to your superiors, that success will advance your position among your people. It would also give me a chance at what I desire—returning home someday.”
Hell was a prison that had nothing to do with this roomy, furnished cell carved into the living rock. Anyone could enter, but only demons and those bound to them could leave. It was the only reason the demon stronghold had escaped direct attack during the war—any invading force would immediately become trapped here forever.
Leyak nodded, as though to himself. “Then the bargain is sealed.” He lifted a small, faceted stone, like glowing quartz. “I’ve acquired a bonding crystal. Probably best not to ask how I got it.”
“I would never presume,” she said solemnly.
He nodded again, clearly nervous, and unlocked the door. He was careful to lock it again once he was inside, as though an iron lock could thwart her once she had what she wanted.
“You understand how it will work?” Leyak asked. “You’ll be selling your soul to me. It can’t be undone.”
“I understand.” She extended her hand, palm up.
Leyak took it gently in one of his and placed the crystal in it. With his free hand, he drew a dagger from his belt. Still cradling her hand with the crystal, he drew the sharp edge against the base of her thumb. Blood welled up, staining the brilliant facets. He let her go and sliced his own palm open, moving to clasp her injured hand with the crystal pressed between them, so their blood mingled.
She held his granite-colo
red eyes, unblinking.
“It is done,” he said, releasing her and plucking the crystal from her grip. He crushed it in his fist with demonic strength, letting the tiny, red-stained fragments rain down to clink lightly against the stone floor. “Your soul is bound to me, nameless Seelie. None can tear asunder what magic has constrained.”
“Oh, good,” she said, her magic and her memories unfurling from where they had lain dormant for nearly two centuries, waiting for this moment. “It’s about time.”
Leyak looked at her in confusion, only to gasp when her hand darted forward to clasp his cool forehead, her palm covering his invisible third eye. She let the magic rush out, focusing everything on bending his will to hers.
The imp’s mind struggled and thrashed against her. “What—” he gasped. “What are you?”
She smiled at him, baring sharp canines. “I suppose I did tell you that with the bond, I would be able to recall my name and why I came to be here in Hell. I am Queen Mab, Hellspawn. I renounced my name and my memories that I might come here and learn your people’s secrets. The Fae Court may be content to bargain and appease, now that the war is over—but I will not be content until Hell is destroyed.”
Leyak stared at her, wide-eyed. “No...” he murmured, right before his will succumbed to hers.
* * *
It was a simple enough thing to pry memories from the imp’s mind. She sought images of two high-ranking demons who would be able to pass through the gate linking Hell to Earth without being questioned. After glamouring herself and her erstwhile captor to resemble the pair, she compelled Leyak to unlock the cell. At her mental direction, he led her to the caves that housed the barrier separating Hell from Earth.
The guardians of the gate nodded respectfully as they entered, wearing their flawless magical disguises. In a daze, Leyak guided her to a section of rocky wall and ushered her through. Magic slid across her body as she passed out of the demon realm, thanks to the soul-bond she’d allowed him to forge with her.
Forsaken Fae: The Complete Series, Books 1-3 (Last Vampire World) Page 55