Page 43 of Sigils & Spells

For a moment, jealousy creeps over me and I wonder who he’s been with in recent years. A man like Fionn isn’t likely to have remained celibate since his queen, since I left this place. He must have taken many lovers to satisfy his urges. I shake off the thought. Although glimpses of the woman I once was are slowly returning to me, I don’t yet feel I have any claim on Fionn. What he did before is of no concern to me.

When he pulls away, my lips are bruised, swollen, and I know that kiss was a promise of what’s to come. That should fill me with dread, considering how large his dick is, but I find myself impatient to experience all this man has to give. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. He’s a virtual stranger, known only to me in dreams, and most of those were terrifying. Yet here I am, growing steadily more desperate for him to fuck me. There must be a full moon, or something, because I’ve clearly gone mad.

He positions his cock at my entrance and props himself up on his palms.

“Pull your knees towards your chest.”

Shaking with nervous anticipation, I do as he asks. He grins at my easy compliance.

“This may hurt, but only for a moment.”

He spears me with a single thrust, ripping away my virginity. I cry out as pain makes me go rigid. I clench my fists tight as his cock stretches me wide. My breath comes out in short, desperate pants as I try to adjust. It feels like I can’t take in enough air.

“Shh, little one,” he soothes. “You’re mine now. Everything is as it should be.”

Through teary eyes, I look up at him. It’s hard to read his expression, but I think I see pride in his eyes. He’s proud to have been the first to claim me. Anger wells inside me, and then I realize he isn’t moving. He’s giving me time to get used to him. That consideration takes the edge off my outrage.

Fionn cocks his head to one side and studies my face carefully, as the tension slowly drains out of me.

“Are you ready, my queen?”

Words elude me, but I blink slowly and he accepts that as a sign of my willingness to continue. I don’t have time to consider whether he’d have stopped if I asked him to as he draws back and pushes in again. It stings and my mouth twists as I try to get used to the discomfort. Is it like this with all men? As he establishes a steady, predictable rhythm, I find it easier to cope with his massive size. In fact, soon, I start to enjoy this.

His flesh slaps against mine and I moan and whimper as his hand curves around my breast. He tugs hard on the rosy peak of my nipple. Agony twists into ecstasy. My pussy clenches around his rigid shaft. Two more thrusts have me screaming into the night, unconcerned about who might be listening. As I tumble into a state of white-hot bliss, time and place fall away. Suddenly, I remember all I loved and hated about this man. Most of all, I recall the pleasure he gave me, how much I craved his touch.

When I return to my senses, Fionn has pulled out of me and is sitting back in his heels, watching me carefully. I feel the warmth of his seed coating my insides. Deep satisfaction washes over me. Fionn takes my hands and looks deep into my eyes.

“You are truly magnificent, Cait.”

I’m not sure how to respond to that. I suppose I should return the compliment, but I can’t bring myself to tell Fionn how incredible that was. He rises to his feet and fastens his pants. Then he pulls his shirt on over his head. He bends to pick up my dress and holds it out to me.

“You should put this back on. We have a public declaration to make.”

I get to my feet and take the dress from Fionn. It takes a matter of seconds to put it on and straighten it out. When I’m ready, Fionn waves a hand and the screen that was shielding us from view moves to the side. My eyes widen. Telekinesis. I guess I’d forgotten that existed.

There’s a large crowd of Fae watching us, and my fellow students are kneeling in a row in front of us. Fionn turns to me and takes my hands.

“Do you accept me as your king?”

Something about this resonates with me. I’ve been in this spot before, heard him ask the same question.

“I do.”

“Will you promise to serve me faithfully until the end of time?”

“No, Cait, don’t.”

A yell from across the peak of the hill draws my attention to where Cormac is struggling against his chains. Fionn squeezes my hands tight, a warning of what will happen if I don’t play along. Though I have some doubts about pledging myself to him for eternity, I know I have to save Cormac.

“I will,” I say resolutely.

Fionn nods, satisfied with my responses. A tall, fair-haired man in a black tunic and pants steps forward, carrying a large wooden box. Fionn opens it and removes a gorgeous silver crown.

“I give you this crown as a symbol of your status as Queen of Laidir,” he intones, loud and clear. He gives me a pointed look waiting for me to say something.

“Thank you, sire.”

When he takes another item from the box, my stomach churns. He grabs my shoulders and spins me around, pulling me back against his solid chest. He wraps the silver collar around my neck. It feels tight, restrictive at first. I take a few deep breaths, trying to banish the urge to cough as it presses against my throat.

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