Page 5 of How to Keep a Fae

His knot stretches me as I thrash and twitch under him. The sharp sting of his teeth penetrating my throat is followed by the glorious rush as he greedily drinks down my blood.

He doesn’t need to feed there. He has taken more than enough of my magic in other ways. But he chooses to, as most warriors do. And yet he drinks deeper than most, almost like he’s compelled to do so, and the more he drinks, the more mybody convulses in the throes of a climax that does not end, until finally, he lifts his head.

I blink a few times, rousing myself or trying to. I am utterly surrounded by him, one hand cupping the back of my neck, the other under my ass, holding me against him.

His scent fills my lungs; his purr soothes me. My pussy clenches as I recall his words breathed against my throat before he bit.

He emits a contented sigh and lowers his forehead to mine. “What a precious little feeder,” he rumbles.

His cock kicks inside me. His lips return to my throat, where he laps over the puncture points. “Sweetest blood I’ve ever tasted.” His nose brushes against my ear before he nips my earlobe. “I’m definitely going to want another taste.”

Chapter Three

Jayga

Her taste is still on my lips many hours later, even though I’ve downed a fair number of pints in the warrior hall. I’m buzzing. My whole body feels energized and alive.

When has healing ever done that to me?

Fuck. I can’t believe a saucy little thing dropped to her knees and sucked my cock. I’ll be jacking off to that image for the rest of my life.

She was pretty, too. They’re all pretty. Yet there was something about this one. I huff a chuckle. Likely any warrior would have his brain addled if a pretty fae did as much to them.

The warrior I’ve been chatting to is hailed by his patrol leader on the other side of the room.

“Better go,” my companion mumbles, quickly downing the last of his beer. “Probably got orders for tomorrow. Bastards never give us much of a break.”

I give him the chin lift of solidarity, and he strides away.

August slides into the vacant space beside me with a nod and sets his pint on the table. His mother was a breeder, and he’s one of a scattering of fae among the warrior ranks. His dark hair is pin straight, with his pointed ears poking out. I’ve often wondered if they get in the way under his helm… He is also tall and freakishly strong. I saw him knock an orc out once with nothing but his fist. Straight right. Boom. The green bastard went down, out cold. I’m pretty sure I’d have broken my hand if I’d tried that shit.

“Seen a healer?” I ask.

He grunts. “Yes. I wasn’t badly injured.”

“Me neither.” I smirk.

He does a double take. He’s a serious bastard, but he’s alright. The hall is busy. Most of us have been with the healers, and we’re all feeling fucking high.

“Was she good, then?”

He shrugs and side-eyes me. “What’s not to be good about it?”

He has a deep voice and a cultured accent. He doesn’t talk much. I talk a lot and no one ever confused me with cultured. I don’t know why he sat down next to me, given he rolls his eyes at my nonsense half the time. Then I glance around again and notice just how busy the hall is. “Did too many patrols come at the same time?”

“They did. Someone fucked up with a portal. Left over fifty men stranded for a couple of days. The imperial in charge is getting reamed by the king for it.” A brief dark smile graces his lips and offers a hint of his fangs. I guess fae warriors don’t much like imperials, either. “They usually try to stagger downtime, but after they’d been hanging around, they decided just to call them in.”

“Makes sense.” I take another sup of my beer. Like mostwarriors, I don’t have a high opinion of imperials. They’re the ones with the power who report directly or indirectly to the king and who swan down to our levels on occasion to pluck warriors for their quests.

I’ve heard their blood is fucking amazing and can do a lot more than merely heal.

Not that I’ve ever been with an imperial or been called to assist on a quest.

Fine by me. The less notice I get from their kind the better. Questing with a snooty imperial sounds worse than regular patrols, which provide plenty of opportunities to be killed. That’s what happened with August’s patrol when they lost six men. The survivors got split up. August and another man ended up joining our crew.

This was last year. I don’t claim to know him well, but he can handle himself when there’s fighting to be done. Fucking lethal with his sword. And his fist, as that orc would attest if he were still alive. Actually, August’s a vicious bastard all around, and I’m always glad when he has my back.

I sup my beer, my mind already drifting back to the cute little fae feeder who drained my balls.Adaline. Her name is as pretty as she is. “She sucked me off,” I say.

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