Page 58 of The Jester

I straddle his waist and slide my hands up his chest, over the knots, and the fragile veins of his wings. I stroke the piercings on his tips, and sigh as they chime gently for me. Then I reach for his mask.

Finn inhales sharply, and flinches.

“You are mine,” I whisper. “And I want to see your face.”

He says nothing in response, just closes his eyes and remains completely still while I unfasten it and lift it free.

In the flickering orange light of the chamber, his face is everything I thought it would be. His jaw is strong and firm, and his cheekbones are, too. I stroke his features slowly and carefully, as if I’m trying to learn every inch of him by heart.

When I reach the mottled scar on his cheek, and stroke it with my thumb, he releases a low humming sound and turns his face away from me.

I bring it back, then lower my lips to his skin and try to kiss away whatever memory haunts him.

At first, Finn resists, but then his body arches beneath mine and I explore every inch of him with a hunger that borders on obsession.

I remove his pants, and toss them aside.

The taste of salt and sweat graces my tongue as I move my way up his bare legs towards his cock.

But I don’t touch him there. Not yet.

I play with him, using my lips and my hands to claim him.

Finally, thrusting my mouth onto his shaft, I fill myself until my eyes water and he groans loudly. I sit back, smiling.

I am not doing this to give him pleasure; this is for me, and he is letting me take what I need.

Again, I take him in my mouth. And again, and again.

I bring him to the edge of an orgasm, and then let it fade away. And when he can’t take any more, I lower myself onto him, grip him with my thighs, and let him thrust up into me until he explodes.

With his come dripping from my pussy, I move to his lips. “Can you taste yourself?” I whisper.

He moans into my clit.

“Do you taste good?”

He laps and circles and groans.

I scrape my fingers through my hair and arch my back. My body coils tightly, pressure building. I lean back and tug the rope that holds his wings in place, and the sound he makes finally sends me over the edge.

Fire explodes beneath my skin. My wings flutter violently.

As it subsides, and I return to my body, I realise he was right; some of the hurt has gone. And it has been replaced by strength.

Chapter Twenty-Five

ELDRION

When everyone is back inside, I leave the parapet and descend to the ground.

My wings beat hard, then stop. I land with a thud that kicks dirt up into the air. Behind me, the castle is silent and swollen with fear.

This is not the first time I have performed a midnight execution, and I doubt it will be the last. For it seems they never learn. They must always push back, test my strength. And I am always forced to prove to them who is in control.

The boy lies, body broken, at a strange angle. Like a shattered marionette, he is completely lifeless now. Not that he had much of a life before.

Perhaps that is why he did it; because he felt he had nothing to lose. Or because he felt he wouldn’t be watched too carefully.

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