Trapped (Imprisoned by the Fae 1)

Rys doesn’t give me a choice. Just as the orgasm starts to crest, he wraps his hands around my thighs, trapping my pussy against his mouth, almost as if he knows what’s coming and he wants me to ride it out on his face.

I can’t swallow this scream. The most I can do is turn it into a high-pitched yelp as the pleasure rolls over me. My legs shake, my pussy clenching as it begs for something to fill it and, Jesus Christ, he’s still going.

Now, I love foreplay. Normally, I can’t get enough of it. But the way Rys is teasing me right… I’ve had enough. Maybe it’s the touch magic, maybe it’s the effects of being around Posey, or maybe it’s the fact that I haven’t be

en properly fucked in so long… I don’t know. Don’t care, either.

I reach down, grabbing his long, silky hair by the fistfuls. I’m feeling shaky, and I know I’m only able to rip his face away to look at me because Rys lets me.

“Inside me,” I bark. “Now.”

The look that flashes across his face at my command is one that’ll be burned into my consciousness for as long as I live. When all this is over, when Rys is a distant memory, I’ll still remember that heated look because it just about scorches me to my bones.

And then he smiles.

“There isn’t anywhere else I’d rather be, my Leannán. I’d thank you for this gift, but this by no means is final. You understand me?”

Not. Even. A. Little.

But I lie. Oh, yeah, I lie because something tells me that, if I confess to Rys that I have no clue what he just meant, he’ll stop and take the time to try to explain it to me and that means even longer before that beautiful cock does what it’s meant to do.

“Yes.”

“You’re mine,” he says again.

Sure.

“Okay.”

That must be the magic word. As soon as the second syllable is out of my mouth, Rys rears back, then rises to his full height. Holy hell, with my spread out like the feast he just made of me, he is massive. So is his cock. It’s long and thick and, like every other feature on this male, it’s perfect.

He grips it at the base before climbing up to join me in the cot. His knees are on the outside of mine, trapping me beneath his weight as he lines it up to my entrance. I almost expect him to give me another chance to back down, to change my mind, but not this time.

Seems like, now that I’ve given permission, he’s going to take it. And, in one powerful thrust, Rys takes me.

That scream? Yeah. They probably heard it all the way in the oubliette.

Don’t care. It feels amazing. As he draws out of me before slamming back in, I clutch the blanket with my fist because, if I don’t, I’m going to scratch the shit out of his chest. I need something to hold onto because Rys? Just like when he was going down on me, he doesn’t stop.

And I love every minute of it.

His thrusts are strong. Deep. Hard. But he’s not rough and that’s what makes it even more enjoyable. With one hand bracing him so that he’s not actually laying on top of me, he reaches between our bodies with the other. As his lean hips work like a piston, going in and out of me with a pace that’s inhuman and a stamina that seems almost unbelievable, Rys uses his fingers to rub my clit, quickly building me toward another orgasm.

There’s not much I really understand about touch magic. Sometimes, when he touches me, there’s a jolt, then a spark of pleasure so intense, I almost come on the spot. Other times, it’s a gentle caress that makes me feel safe. Secure. Loved. And sometimes, I feel like I’ll die if he lets me go.

Right now, as I wrap my legs around his waists, desperate to keep him inside of me as I ride out my second orgasm, I think it’s that last one.

My orgasm triggers his. Just when I’m finally getting my breath back, Rys lets out a word in another language that I can’t understand—in my haze, I almost feel like he’s calling me his friend—before he comes inside of me. He bucks a few times as he does before finally letting his full weight settle on top of me.

Mm… so warm. He really is the world’s best heated blanket.

It takes a few minutes before he can finally find any words. When he does, I’m not even a little surprised that it’s out of concern for me.

“Am I crushing you, Leannán?”

I shake my head. That’s about as much energy as he’s getting out of me after that.

“Good,” he murmurs softly, pressing his lips to my temple. “Because I’m not so sure I can move right now with tumbling to the floor.”