Page 64 of Amidst the Insidious Courts
“Sleep through it,” Jaro advises. “We’ve got you, and you need the rest.”
He does, too; though I don’t think he knows it. I open my mouth to tell him to let me take care of myself, but the yawn that breaks free ruins my plan.
The bath and the gentle beat of his heart conspire against me, and before I know it, I’ve done what he said.
* * *
“No more sex,”I mumble, batting away the heavy male bodies around me. They’re too warm, too hard. Pressing against my aching body that doesn’t seem to understand we’ve had enough.
“She doesn’t mean it, right?” Lore’s voice breaks through the sleepy haze. “Pet, you don’t mean no more sex forever, do you?”
“If she does, it’s probably your freakish cock that’s to blame,” Drystan retorts, and the arms around me tighten.
“But I did it for her!” The redcap sounds farther away now. I guess he got his ability to blink back now that my fever is over. “See, it’s an ‘r’ for Rose. I was so caught up I didn’t even get to activate the enchantment—”
“Put itaway,” Jaro growls, which I take as confirmation that Lore has his dick out and is showing off his pearls to the whole room.
My cheeks flush red as I search my memories and finally understand what he means about the pattern. It’s written in fae, which explains the diagonal ridges they’re aligned in. He’s literally had his cock modified to tell others it belongs to me. Something feral inside me purrs in approval, and despite how worn out I am, I have to resist the urge to demand a second look.
“There’s nothing wrong with a little exhibitionism, wolfie. You might learn something.”
“Well… that’s… new.”
Bree’s voice is strained, but it’s enough to make me perk up. I lift my head, only to find myself completely buried in blankets. After digging myself out, I realise I’m sandwiched between Drystan and Jaro in the middle of the bed.
Lore is hanging from the lampshade, upside down, with his cock out, proudly displaying the beads in my direction.
“They’re very nice,” I murmur, my sex clenching at the memory of them inside me.
My voice is rough—probably from all the screaming I did—and my mouth feels dry and horrid.
Goddess, I’m sore. The room, which earlier reeked of sex, must have been aired out at some point, because the sheets around me smell fresh and clean, and someone has dressed me in their shirt. But neither of those things can disguise the fact that I can feel my heartbeat in my poor, overwrought clit and swollen sex.
“I brought you some food,” Bree murmurs. “And a tea from Kitarni that’s supposed to help with the aftereffects. And there are some pads, for when the bleeding starts.”
Oh great. Bleeding. Just what I need. All those years without ever experiencing what my mortal sister-in-law, Clair, once derisively called ‘slaughterhouse week’, and now I get to learn what that feels like as well.
Bree stands in the open door, holding a tray laden with food. As he speaks, he takes a few more steps into the room, the pot in the middle of the tray wobbling alarmingly. I can only breathe again when he settles the arrangement on the end of the bed, and I crawl carefully towards it, wincing with each movement.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, his green eyes tracing over every detail of my exhausted face.
“Sore,” I whisper, taking the teapot and pouring out a small cup.
The liquid is scalding hot, but it washes away the dry, claggy feeling in my throat, which I’m grateful for.
A second later, the other, more magical effects make themselves known. My head starts to clear, and my body groans in relief as the heaviness in my limbs subsides and the ache dies down.
“This stuff is good,” I say, taking another sip. “How long…?”
“Eleven days,” Jaro confirms. “Longer than most, but not unheard of for a first fever, especially considering the circumstances.”
Almost two weeks lost to mindless fucking. I sigh, because I can’t say I regret it either. Much of what happened is a kind of haze, but at least my first time with Lore and Drystan happened before I fell too far into the grip of my body’s demands.
It’s silly, but the first time still feels special to me. I might’ve cried if I didn’t remember anything.
Drystan, ever practical, adds: “Next time you’ll be bonded to us, and we’ll make sure you’re not travelling hard in the week before.”
“And there will be more of us, which should make it a lot easier on you,” Bree finishes. “If… if you want me—that is.”
