Page 66 of A City of Emeralds and Envy
“Tip your face up and open your mouth,” he orders. “Tongue out, and look at me.”
I lift my face and put out my tongue. His gaze locks with mine while he lays the head of his cock on the flat of my tongue and strokes himself.
He starts to come—little spurts flinging across my tongue—and then he grips the back of my skull and plunges his cock deeper into my mouth, his hips jerking convulsively as he comes fully in my throat, jet after jet of thick cum. When I gag a little, he withdraws, with a terse order: “Fucking swallow it.”
Eyes watering, I obey.
“Show me.” He grabs my chin, pushes my jaw down so he can be sure his release found its new home.
“Fae can climax many times in a row,” he says, pushing a tendril of hair back from my face and wiping the tears from the corner of my eye with his thumb. “I want you covered in my scent by the end of this hour. But I don’t want you docile, Kin-Slayer—I want you wild and writhing, cursing me even as you beg for release. I want you to fight for every climax you achieve, and I want you to make me fight for mine, too. Do you understand?”
I nod quickly, already desperate, already leaking arousal as I kneel before him.
West banishes his clothes, sending them from his body to drape over the railing. Then he catches me by the throat and yanks me to my feet, and when I slap him for it, he grins, as if he’s delighted that I understand the game.
And in that moment I abolish my mask.
I destroy every shred of it, and I leap into the frenzied freedom of my Unseelie side. I attack West, flinging my whole body at him, and he topples, crashing to the balcony floor. I seize his cock and lower myself onto it, but I only get the tip between my folds when he twists, rolling his hips aside. With a surge of his lithe body he flips us both over, pinning me to the floor this time.
I manage to get my legs on either side of his and I buck against his thigh, grinding my pussy on the hard-packed muscle, leaving a wet smear on his skin. He doesn’t let me hump him for longer than a few seconds before he changes position, settling astride my chest, squishing my breasts together and shoving his cock between them. I buck, trying to throw him off. When he won’t let me, I take his nipple between my fingers and pinch until he growls and grabs my hand, slamming my wrist to the floor.
Hunting for my magic, I discover that he has allowed me access to it again. I seek out the concussive blast I use for defense and find a bit of energy there—not strong yet, but it’s all I need.
I plant my other hand on West’s bare chest and send a quick pulse of magic against him. It’s enough to knock him back a bit, and in that scant second I lunge, adding momentum magic and bowling him over. I’m on top now, my pussy settled over the ridge of his cock. When I roll my hips forward, the friction of his length along my sex makes my eyes roll back.
He lets me get close to climax this time. But when I let out a sharp little cry of anticipation—almost there—he leaps to his feet with a gust of green magic, lifts me bodily, and flings me over the balcony railing.
I shriek, terrified—but I haven’t fallen. His magic caught me, and I’m dangling upside down above the rows of bookshelves, held aloft by an invisible force. My legs are spread apart—I’m practically doing a split—and my pussy is on a level with the top of the railing.
As I hang there upside down, naked and spread wide for him, West saunters casually to the railing and leans over, taking a long lick between my folds.
For other women, such a perilous position might be more distracting than arousing, but the Unseelie half of me is thrilled at this new experience—so when West’s tongue traces through my labia, the sensation is tripled, and I scream breathlessly. “Shit! Oh gods, please—please do it again—fuck!” I shriek as he licks me once more, casually, like a man tasting his favorite dessert.
The blood is rushing to my head—I’m dizzy, delirious, whimpering as he slides his tongue to my clit and nibbles there.
“Don’t stop, please, please…”
But he does stop. A cloud of green magic lifts me, deposits me back on the balcony floor. I’m shaking, my thighs convulsively pinned together, trying for that last bit of friction.
West shoves me against the bookshelves again—pins me there with his slim naked form, and tucks his fingers between my legs. His fingers emerge dripping wet, and he paints my own arousal along my throat, around my nipples, across my belly. He squeezes a bit of precum from his own cock and reaches up to dab on my cheeks and lips, while I stand quivering, aching, finding each move he makes more arousing than the last.
“Put your fingers into your pussy,” he whispers, right by my ear. “And mark me with your cum.”
I tuck my fingers inside myself, shuddering in a delirium of need. I’ve forgotten why we’re here. Forgotten my purpose. Nothing matters except his body, and mine, and the relief he’s going to give me.
With wet, trembling fingertips I trace lines across his abdomen, then paint another line along his cock. He shivers and exhales as I do it, crowding against me, as if he yearns to be closer.
I have a little of my arousal left on my fingers, so I smear his cheeks with it. He looks at me, his cheekbones gleaming, a strange kind of dread and glory in his eyes, as if he has just done something that scares and thrills him.
Then he gathers me up, lifting me, and as my legs part for him he enters me. No more struggle, no more fighting—we gasp in mutual agreement as he slides inside, and I reach up to clutch one of the shelves above me. I can feel another shelf digging into my back, and I wince, momentarily drawn out of the moment.
West notices and carries me down onto the carpet with him, his cock still sheathed in my heat.
I grip his upper arms, feeling the tightened biceps as he braces his palms on either side of me. When I look into his eyes, there’s a challenge in my voice. “See how long you can last without coming.”
He makes a frustrated sound. “Same to you, Kin-Slayer. No talking, no other touches, just this.” He nods to the place where we’re joined, and I return the nod.
I’m determined to outlast him. I’m a woman—for many of us, it takes longer to reach pleasure, and that should be an advantage here, but oh—oh gods—he’s thrusting harder, deeper, and there’s a place inside me that’s lighting up, sending swirls of gilded pleasure through my belly. Fuck, fuck—I’m going to come—I pin my legs around him, heels locked against his ass, and squeeze my pussy around him as tightly as I can. A sharp gasp of surprise breaks from him, and his cock throbs, but he doesn’t come yet.
