Riding for a Fall (Get Your Rocks Off Book 2)

by Sam Hall

  His eyes slid to mine, burning with an unearthly fire as all his fingertips scudded over her flesh, slowly, carefully closing in on the aching tip. Her mouth had fallen open, her moans louder, a discordant kind of music, her hips and body held down by her horned lovers. I heard the slurp of the man between her legs distantly, my own heartbeat crowding that out as my ears began to ring. Jake’s smile jerked wider when his fingers pinched down, plucking that hard little nipple, her gasps coming faster and harder, her imprecations…for what? It wasn’t clear, just that she wanted. He pulled it a little brutally, eyes darting down when her hips bucked up, twisting more when he saw her head started to thrash. She let out a heartbroken wail when he pulled away, but he moved onto the dais and held himself above her on his hands and knees.

  His head, when it turned towards me, looked lupine, his features sharpening.

  “You wanted to know what makes us ache?” Billy said. “Well, this is what Jake aches for. He wants someone to perform for and to give him limits, because he can’t. He wants you to see him brushing his lips over that girl’s nipples, just drawing her attention and your attention to what he’s doing. He wants you, her to ache up deep inside, to want him to suck those aching tips, deep and hard, feel his teeth grazing the skin.”

  The girl’s head nodded wildly, babbling some sort of nonsense to try and get him to just do that. His tongue flicked out, swiping the hard point with the flat of his tongue, his hand on her shoulder, his thumb pressing down her throat as his lips tightened around her and drew her hard into his mouth.

  He forced her still, the other men doing the same as she began to thrash in earnest. One pulled her further down on the dais, forcing Jake to shift, so the horned man could get between her legs. I looked away when those impassive mirror-like eyes turned to me, his hand on his huge dick.

  “Humans have strict rules about sex, no matter what the culture,” Billy said with an almost gentle smile. “They can’t allow all that luscious id to be expressed unfettered. Human power comes from industry—the making, creating, hunting, gathering. That’s all rather labour intensive, so you can’t be fucking all the time.” He picked up my hand and plucked the small stone from my lax fingers, twisting his fingers and turning it into a drink in a tall glass, complete with straw. “Not us. Power is innate, in your connections, your alliances, and in what you can do, will and won’t do. We have sex to let loose, because we have the rapacious appetites of humans with none of the fragility or restrictions, but often it’s performative. You and me, we have power over Jake. He wants us, wants us to see him, direct him, make him our focus.”

  He tipped my face back to the scene, the horned man between her legs and spearing his dick into her with long, slow strokes.

  “Tell him what to do. Make him ache that much harder.”

  Billy’s direction pulsed inside my mind, making me take in all the moving parts. What would I do? It was like being given porn Barbies to play with, but generations of repressive rules about feminine sexuality beat down on me, staying my hand. That, along with those rules that insisted a woman respond when asked to do something, had my head spinning, my body pinned to the spot.

  “Dizzied by the possibilities? Now you know how he feels.”

  The girl had none of my reticent, reduced down to a squirming, crying mess as she screamed her way through one orgasm, then the next.

  “Jake, come here.”

  He moved as soon as I said the words, the girl’s nipple popping free, red and swollen, as he climbed off her and ignored her pleading hands. He was so fucking tall, I’d always seen him joking or mucking around with a manic kind of energy, it was hard to remember that he towered over me, that he had this big strong body from hammering on the drums all night. His skin was flushed, his breath coming in harder, making the taut muscles of his stomach flex and shift, but I didn’t think it was from his performance. I reached out, needing to test, touch, see if he was real. I was still getting used to the perfect bodies of fae, even my own.

  I felt it as soon as I touched him. His skin lit up like a Christmas tree the minute my skin met his, his hand slapping down over mine when I went to pull away.

  “Tell our butterfly what you want, Jake,” Billy said, pacing behind his shoulder, some kind of creature made from shadows. “Do it, or I uncollar you.”

  He stared into my eyes and swallowed.

  “I want…” He blinked, going impossibly whiter. “I’m yours, Kira, to use, to direct. To hurt, to beat, to stroke. I’m yours to kiss, to bite, to stake out and offer to the whole court. You ask it, and I’ll do it. That’s what I want.” He lifted my hand with the lead still partially coiled within it, using his hands to tighten my grip on it.

  “You wanted to see behind the mask, Kira,” Billy said, circling us. “This is us. Johnno won’t take him in hand. Liam doesn’t have time for it and I…can’t most of the time, and Lucas… But Jake’s set his crazy little cap for you, hasn’t he? I think it’s a little scary for him, having no boundaries, no limits, so he finds others to do it for him, and he wants that to be you.”

  My heartbeat filled the gap in the conversation, the two of them just watching me as Billy and Jake’s words dropped like depth charges inside me. What they were saying, what they were asking, was so freaking huge, my brain couldn’t formulate a response because there was none to be had. It got caught on the first bit, about Jake being mine. How? When? And most importantly—why?

  “Billy!” I turned dully to see Lucas standing below us. “You gotta get to Liam. Make sure you take her.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Rhiannon’s here.”

  9

  It was Billy that seemed to put two and two together first.

  “I need you to drape yourself all over Liam when we get to him. Act like he’s your greatest lover.”

  “Make out with him a bit,” Lucas said. It was strange to see his eyes wide and staring rather than being filled with hostility.

  “God, fuck him before the whole court,” Jake said. “I’ll help. Anything to keep that bitch away.”

  “Look, I know you don’t like Liam—” Billy said.

  “You’re part of Hartley now,” Lucas said. “You need to pull your weight.”

  “Stop!” I said as they went to say more. “You forget I’m a fan. I know what Rhiannon did to him. I can pretend to be almost anything if it means keeping her away from him. Is he going to resist this?” I watched the three of them look at each other. “OK, go in hard. Got it.”

  We walked as quickly as we could without creating a scene, weaving through tree trunks and little clearings, streaming past revellers, until we reached court proper. Just like an actual court, Liam sat on a dais that appeared to have been made from ancient stone, his throne a great mass of wrought gold, Johnno sitting on the first step. People milled around the large empty space beyond the steps, obviously waiting their turn to greet the Lord of Hartley. We paused at the outskirts.

  “Just remember,” Billy said, a hand on the base of my spine, “make it flashy, make it obvious. You have power over him. Exert it.”

  “He stinks with want for you,” Lucas said with a shake of his head. “It won’t take much to turn his head. Just keep it that way.”

  “Coming through,” Jake called out to those fae clustered around us. “Bringing the lord his consort.”

  My heart sank. I’d hoped to slide up to the dais unseen and then, I dunno, kiss Liam’s neck or something. Instead, the crowd parted for us, hundreds of curious eyes turning to take us in.

  “Be the queen we know you can be,” Billy muttered as we passed through.

  Liam straightened up on his throne, a twisted smile of amusement on his face as we emerged.

  “I wondered where you had gotten to,” he said, holding out a hand to me as I climbed the steps. He saw my expression, the fear that must have been shining in my eyes, but his expression didn’t change. Well, until he took a deep breath. The mask slipped somewhat, and a frank hunger surface
d.

  Which suited my needs. I drew closer, taking that warm, strong hand, and paused for a moment. The shiver his touch sent through me didn’t have to be feigned. I’d been simmering in a weird state of arousal and confusion since I got here, so adding to that the overlay of dream Liam and the real one was kind of intense. While my mind knew it could have been Lucas or Billy or Jake, but more likely Johnno, who had visited me in my dreams, my body had felt those long, sensuous caresses as Liam’s.

  His smile widened as he drew me closer. That worked for me, I’d intended to make out with him a bit, then stand behind the throne and run my hands through his hair or something, but he had other ideas. I was yanked forward, Liam looking for all the world like a lover desperate to get closer to his consort, and pulled me close so I sat in his lap. His arms went around me before I could react, the whole court catching my shocked look as his hands splayed across my stomach and hip.

  “The boys send you?” He murmured the words into my hair as he buried his face in it, looking like he was kissing my neck. He did that too as I nodded imperceptibly. “Remind me to thank them later, because I’m going to enjoy this. My consort… Mm, what a fine idea.” I felt him shift underneath me, his body like iron, with no give or softness in it. “You’ll forgive me,” he said in a much louder voice to the rest of the court. “Kira has just joined Hartley as my consort today, and the connection…is very strong.”

  “Consort?” I forced my head around to see who the speaker was, though I found it hard to take much in. Liam’s hands moved over my body, leaving burning trails in their wake. His lips trailed over my neck, his teeth taking tiny little nips. I went rigid in his grip, my pelvis jerking backwards, something that drew a strangled groan from Liam. I was now sitting directly on the hard lump of his cock. “Allow me to be the first to offer my congratulations.”

  This came from the horned guy from the party, the one who offered to take me to the dark places or whatever. What was his name? Fuck, I couldn’t think. My body knew but also didn’t know Liam’s, so the usual anxious tension when someone new touched me was dampened down, but I felt little sparks of excitement in every place his body touched mine.

  “New indeed, Hartley,” said another man standing there in a three-piece suit, which contrasted rather oddly with his pale greenish blond hair. “This was the surge we felt earlier? A little notice would have been nice.”

  “Sorry,” Liam panted into my neck, “but Kira had been resisting what I knew to be true—that we’re meant to be together.” His grip instantly tightened as I froze where I sat. “She’s skittish, but when you stroke her just right, she goes right off. Powerful little thing.”

  Green hair and Saveen—that was horned guy’s name, I remembered it now—snorted at this.

  “Powerful? This girl damn near cracked my reservoir with her antics. Reparations need to be discussed,” green hair said.

  “Did you indeed?” Liam said, pulling my hair back and tracing his fingers down my neck until I shivered. “Well, aren’t you a clever girl?”

  This apparently didn’t require a response. I was thankful, as Liam’s hand slid down to my waistband. I gasped, the sound heard all throughout the court. The pleased laughs that came in response should have been enough to embarrass me to silence, but they weren’t.

  “So responsive,” Liam said in a low rumble. I’d heard those words said quite enough about me, but it was hard to protest as his fingers edged lower.

  I needed to stop this, something that was very clear. Sticking my tongue down the man’s throat to keep an ex-girlfriend away was one thing, getting a hand job in front of a whole lotta strangers was another. I glanced beyond the assembled people, past the tops of their heads to see that there was a lot of my kind doing much, much more extreme things. But I wasn’t them.

  “Stop,” I said, my voice little more than a breathy gulp, my hand wrapping around his wrist. I saw eyes shine and smiles widen in the audience below at my little rebellion, so I turned in his lap, pinning his wrists to his throne. His eyes sparked, but I couldn’t tell if it was from anger or lust. “Not here, not like this,” I said, leaning into him, my words low enough that only we would hear them. Well, us and Johnno, who looked up wearily. “I need more than some sport fuck in front of a bunch of strangers.”

  He had things to say about that. I watched his body tense and his mouth drop open, his lungs drawing breath to get the words out, but Marlow’s voice cut through it all.

  “The Lady Rhiannon seeks audience.”

  “It’s always meant more than sport for me,” Liam said, his eyes boring into mine, but I wasn’t sure if it was for me or her he said the words. His hand wrapped around my neck, and he drew my lips down on his, giving me those tightly restrained brushing kisses until my lips dropped open.

  He took advantage, as I think he always would. Any drop in defences was seen as an invitation, but right now, I didn’t mind where he was getting his ideas from, just as long as they continued. His tongue thrust into my mouth, his jaw shifting so he could decrease the tiny sliver of a gap between us. His fingers turned to claws in my hair as he licked and sucked and kissed me until any thoughts I might have about anything were thoroughly scrubbed free. He was Liam. I’d dreamt of doing just this so many times, and by some miracle, he wasn’t being a total dick. He just smiled when he finally relented, his eyes taking in my bruised lips.

  When he settled me back across his lap, he looked pleased when I couldn’t look away. The shining motes of light that had been in the air now seemed to congregate around him, creating some kind of halo from that dark blond hair. Something softened inside him once he and he alone held my gaze, his smile widening when I reached for just one more kiss.

  “Stay with me,” he whispered. “I’ll give you anything if you stay with me.”

  “Always,” I said, unconsciously sealing my fate.

  Rhiannon looked beautiful and pissed, but it was hard to tell which had the dominant hand. She stood there, amongst all the pretty people who watched me make a spectacle of myself, looking for all the world like the faerie princess I’d expected to turn into after transition. She was a picture of slender elegance. Her beach blonde hair fell in those kinds of expertly coiffed waves that a stylist would have spent an age with hot rollers and a blow dryer to achieve, but she was fae, so perhaps it was natural. For all her slim body, she wasn’t lacking in curves. More the kind of restrained sexiness fashion preferred, whereas mine were some kind of flashback to the 1950s. She wore a long white dress that was a delicate combination of shirred white cotton and crocheted accents and a motherfucking flower crown, like some sort of precious thing that just stepped away from Coachella.

  My gaze flicked sideways when I saw the guys step up around the throne, Johnno getting to his feet, the lot of them forming a wall of really fucking hot man flesh. Damn, this was what I was going to lie next to tonight? This really was too much to bear, and Liam’s roaming hands were starting to seem like not such a bad thing now. Especially if the others joined in.

  “Hello, Liam,” Rhiannon said. She was met by a stony silence. “Brought out the big guns, have we? Anyone would think I was some sort of threat.” Like the truly beautiful, her smile, while twisted with anger and frustration, still tugged at you. Those bright blue eyes, that eerily symmetrical face—it just didn’t look right to see any expression other than radiant joy.

  “Not a threat,” Liam said, idly drawing circles on my arm. “Hartley is enjoying a period of unity, and I for one wish to celebrate it.”

  “Been able to browbeat them into order, have you?” She snorted, an incongruous expression for her. “That won’t last long. You’ll be tearing each other apart within days, and you won’t have me to blame for it this time. Or perhaps you will.” She cocked a hip, holding out a sheaf of papers. “The Rutherglen has paid for my services. I’m to appear in a series of promotional shots with the band for the tour. Your new photographer needs to shoot them, he insisted.”

  I stra
ightened in Liam’s arms, but he didn’t let me get far.

  “Don’t bite,” Johnno hissed at me. “Don’t react. Don’t give her anything.”

  Liam clicked his fingers and pointed at Marlow to take the papers from her.

  “It’s all there in the contract. Naked is the new theme, isn’t it? Well, that’s the brief I’ve been given.” She smirked as the contract was delivered to Liam, and he moved the two of us to scan them quickly. “Looks like I’ll be seeing a whole lot more of all of you. I’ll move my stuff into the bus, shall I? Someone will need to break the news to the Concubines, of course.”

  “No.”

  Everyone’s eyes were on Liam as he said the word with finality.

  “If you think—”

  “I don’t give a rat’s arse what you have to say. There’s nothing here that says you have to stay with me, just that you be given suitable accommodations.” He threw the papers down the steps, the surrounding fae’s eyes glittering as they watched the scene play out. “Get your shit and stash it on the heir of Rutherglen’s bus, because that’s where you’re staying for the entirety of your ‘contract.’ Kira is our photographer.” She watched him tangle his fingers in my hair. “She’ll let you know when you are required. Apart from that, any move beyond five metres around the bus will be viewed as a breach of contract.”

  “What! You can’t be—”

  “I’m completely serious. Now get the fuck out of my court.”

  If you’d told me I would be sitting on Liam Hartley’s lap, watching Rhiannon—no last name, like Cher or Madonna—fight to hold back her tears, while we sat on a golden throne, I’d have thought you were on crack, yet here we were. We were in the Red King’s court, and he was just about to shout, “Off with her head!” She stared at us for a few moments that felt like years, and then turned on her heel, pulling out her phone and ringing someone as she stomped away.