Trapped

by Jessica Lynch

  And we can’t do that if we’re still dressed.

  I go first. Pulling back just enough so that I can grab the hem of my tank top, I yank it up and over my head before letting it fall to the floor.

  I don’t think Rys was expecting me to just go for it like that. His breath is a sharp intake of air before he exhales softly.

  “What’s this?” His murmur turns almost reverential. “You’ve painted your skin?”

  That’s right. He’s never seen it before. “It’s a tattoo,” I tell him.

  He runs his hands over the length of it that he can reach. With my bra still on, he’s missing a few of the flowers, and the vine twines around my hips and part of my ass. The massive daisy chain takes up my whole left side and if he stops to study it, we can be here all night.

  I shake my head, then reach behind me to unhook my bra and slip it off. “You can look at it later. Promise.”

  As soon as my tits are free, Rys’s attention goes right from my tattoo to my bare chest. He seems entranced by them. If the look on his face wasn’t so hot, I might’ve giggled.

  He may be fae, but he’s still a man.

  A few seconds later, he manages to break his stare. Then, in the next heartbeat, he moves.

  I go from sitting on his lap to being flipped over so that I’m on my back and Rys is looming over me, his long tawny hair providing the most erotic curtain around us.

  My voice comes out in a breathless whisper as I demand, “What are you doing?”

  He spreads my jeans to their limit, forcing my legs to widen as he wedges his body between them. Even though he’s still dressed and my jeans are between us, I can feel his cock pushing up against me where our bodies meet.

  Oh, yeah. There’s no going back now.

  “I doubt the guards will come but, just in case, I’ll provide cover for you.” His voice drops to a possessive growl that is so damn sexy with his lyrical accent. “I don’t want anyone to see what’s mine.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Yours?”

  In answer to my question, he ducks his head, taking my nipple in between his lips before lathing it with a broad swipe of his tongue.

  On a groan, I throw back my head, arching my back so he can take as much of my tit into his mouth as he wants. And I decide, if being Rys’s means having his mouth on me and making me feel this good, I’m okay with it.

  After lavishing attention on my one boob, he lets it go free from the heat of his mouth with a nearly audible pop. The nipple is so warm, so tight, and my breast feels heavy. I reach up to rub it right as Rys turns toward its twin, repeating the same ministrations and making me moan while he does it.

  Once he finishes with my second tit, he leans back. I miss his warmth almost instantly.

  His golden eyes gleam as he looks down at me. “Stay here.”

  “Trust me,” I tell him, lying flat on my back where he put me. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  And not just because we’re in a prison cell, either.

  Rys continues to stare, a strange expression flitting across his face before he blinks, banishing it. In the next second, lust makes his eyelids go heavy, his inhumanely beautiful face watching me with such reverence, it’s like he can’t believe that I’m here.

  It… actually makes me a little uncomfortable. This is just sex, right? This is just scratching an itch. I’m desperate for something to touch me like they care, and Rys gets strength out of this. And I owe him. After everything he did for me while we were in the oubliette, he can touch any part of me that he wants.

  Except he’s too far for me to reach, and he told me to stay put.

  “What are you staring at?” I ask, purposely putting a teasing note in his voice? “I thought you wanted to touch me, Rys, not look at me.”

  His lips curve into a suddenly wolfish grin. It’s not threatening, though. Far from it. My scarred Seelie looks like he wants to gobble me up.

  “Who says I can’t do both?” he asks. And then, before I can come up with my own retort, he lowers his long, slender, skillful fingers to my jeans. He pops the button like he’s done it a thousand times before—and I shove that thought way out of my head as soon as I have it—and then commands me to lift up.

  Once I lift my ass from the edge of the cot, he shimmies my jeans past my hips, past my thighs, past my knees. He takes care to remove one of my boots, then the next before tugging my jeans completely off.

  By the time he finally reaches for my panties, I want to scream.

  Jesus Christ, who’s supposed to be seducing who, here?

  I think he can tell that I’m getting a little frustrated. With a whisper of a laugh that I feel all the way to my core, Rys slips my panties off, leaving them in a neat pile with the rest of my clothes. In the back of my mind, I’m impressed at how thoughtful he’s being since we both know that those are the only pair I have in here. But that’s the back of my mind. In the lust-fueled haze of my libido, I wouldn’t have given a shit if he ripped them off with his teeth, I want him so badly.

  To my everlasting relief, he makes quick work of his own clothes. The pristine white prison uniform is two pieces. He removes his shirt, then shucks his bottoms.

  Holy shit. He’s not wearing any underwear at all. Before I’m ready for it, I get my first peek at his erection and it is glorious.

  Good decision, Hel, I tell myself.

  The first thing I notice after I can rip my gaze away from his cock is that Rys is completely hairless. Except for the long, wavy hair growing from his head and his perfectly shaped eyebrows, there isn’t a single piece of hair on the rest of him. In the oubliette, when my fingers traced his chest, I discovered that he was smooth there.

  Staring at the proud jutting out from his crotch, I can definitely see that he’s smooth there, too. Almost like he waxes or something, but I doubt it. Maybe it’s a fae thing? Probably.

  Whatever.

  I’m naked. He’s naked.

  Let’s do this.

  I lift up my arms, gesturing with my hands for him to come back to me. With a hungry look and nothing left to stop him, he does. I open my legs up, spreading them even wider when Rys wedges his body between them. I expect him to take up the same position, hovering over me, and I’m ready for him to climb on top of me.

  But he doesn’t. Instead, he sinks to his knees in front of the cot before gripping me by my waist. My ass scoots across the narrow mattress, bringing my pussy in line with his mouth.

  Is he—

  No way—

  Oh, yes.

  I stifle my moan, not sure how loud it’ll carry as Rys buries his face in my pussy and starts to lick. The next wing? Half of Siúcra? No promises that I’ll be able to keep the next one back—I’ve always been a bit of a screamer which made for some awkward conversations with some nearby city neighbors—but I bite down on my lip in an attempt to muffle it when Rys uses his tongue to nuzzle my clit.

  He doesn’t stop. He just keeps going. My knees start to quake as my first orgasm builds. I prop my hips up, bracing the bottom of my feet against the edge of the cot. I need support and, as the pressure grows, my sense of self-preservation has me looking for some way to escape the heat of his mouth and the skillful strokes of his masterful tongue.

  It’s too much. The wave building is gonna crash into me. I don’t know if I can take it.

  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.”

  Yeah? Well, that makes two of us.

  12

  The guards notice that something is different right away.

  It doesn’t matter that Rys was right and nobody came by to patrol our wing last night. The next morning, when two Seelie guards come through, they immediately stop outside of our cell and, after some murmuring between the two of them, they say something to Rys in a lovely-sounding language that, from the disgusted looks on their faces, isn’t as nice as I’d like to think.

  I try to convince myself that it doesn’t have anything to do with me. By the time the first patrol comes through, we’re both completely dressed and the cot is empty. They don’t know what we did in that bed or that we slept in it together.

  At least, I didn’t think so. Then, after about ten other guards make their way past our cell, all of them examining me before pointedly addressing Rys in that other language, I have to admit that something’s up.

  I wait until the latest gawkers leave before turning on Rys. “Okay. ‘Fess up. They know what we did, don’t they?”

  Rys doesn’t deny it. In fact, he looks proud. “Yes.”

  “How?” Considering he’s kept quiet no matter what taunts they throw at him, I know Rys isn’t gossiping. A belated thought pops into my head. I’m so rattled that, for a second, I forget where I am. “Are there cameras in here?’

  “Cameras? In Faerie? No, my dear. And they’re not scrying, either. That’s the one good thing about the iron bars. It steals my magic, but it prevents the guards from spying. They leave that to Siúcra.”

  I don’t even ask. It’s not the first time I’ve heard someone talk like Siúcra is a person and not just a prison. After being in here for so long, I’m used to it.

  “Then how do they know?”

  “Simple. You wear my brand on your skin.”

  “What?”

  “It’s like the paint on your side,” he explains, “only when you’ve been touched by a fae, it leaves a mark that only another fae can see.”

  “So now I’m branded.” Lovely. “Okay. So what does that mean?”

  “I can find you. I’ll always know where you are.”

  That doesn’t sound so bad.

  “Is that all? ‘Cause, I mean, those guys are staring at us like we belong in a sideshow. I don’t get it. Shouldn’t they have seen it yesterday morning when they let us out of the oubliette?”

  “Last night’s touch was different,” Rys says evasively.

  No shit. “Let me guess. And there’s something different in the way my brand looks this morning, huh?”

  It takes him a few seconds before he realizes that I’m not just about to drop this. “Fine. You want me to tell you? When the other fae look at you, they see a human that I’ve claimed as mine. There. Now you know.”

  My mouth drops open. Oh no he didn’t.

  I thought he was kidding with that mine bullshit last night. You know. Like it was one of those things guys say in the heat of the moment. Jim never did, but I thought that was just Jim.

  I should’ve remembered that the fae are different than human men. They don’t make love. They possess.

  And I let him.

  Rys only adds insult to injury when he goes on to say, “Don’t be concerned. Not as my mate or anything like that. Just as my—”

  “Pet.”

  “You’re human. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

  I feel like I’ve been slapped in the face. I blink, stunned, then shake my head. “Wow. You’re a real piece of work, aren’t you?”

  “My apologies. That came out wrong.”

  Yeah, it did.

  With a huff, I storm away from him. I feel like such an idiot. Why did I think it was a good idea to sleep with him? Now there’s nowhere I can go. I’m stuck in here, with a fae who thinks there’s something wrong with me being human, and a parade full of guards who are all talking about how I gave it up to my cellmate.

  The thick crystal that covers the iron, dulling the effects against the guards, is impossible to break. Still, I give it the ol’ college try when I rear my foot back and kick the cell bars with everything I have.

  My boot conn
ects and nothing happens except my toes start to throb. I hop up and down in place, already regretting doing something so stupid.

  Ugh.

  Rys waits for me to shake it off before he commands, “Come to me, Leannán.”

  “No.” Jesus, I’m sulking. “Leave me alone.”

  “Please. I’d like to hold you. I won’t touch you. But… I need to hold you.”

  I wish I could refuse. No… I could. I wish I wanted to refuse.

  The lure of Rys is too damn strong.

  Feeling like he’s a magnet whose pull I can’t escape from, I stomp all the way across the cell. He’s already sitting in the position I’ve come to regard as ours. His legs spread, arms wide open, I’m helpless to do anything but climb into his lap.

  I’m sure more guards will be coming soon. It’s gotta be close to time for lunch, and it’s not like the shifts aren’t taking turns coming to see me and Rys together.

  Oh, well.

  Might as well give them a show.

  I press my cheek to his chest and say nothing.

  His hand goes straight to the back of my head, stroking my hair in a light caress. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he murmurs. “I don’t see you as a pet. I see you as a gift.”

  A gift… that’s what he told me in the oubliette.

  Damn it! He’s so charming. He could get me to do anything and he doesn’t even need my true name to do it.

  I almost prefer the scowly Rys to this heartbreaker. Because that’s the truth of it. Something changed between us in the oubliette. And while I thought he was rejecting me when we were first freed from it, that’s only because he was trying—again—to protect me from the rest of Siúcra.

  Too late now. Everyone knows.

  I can only imagine what they’re all saying. Probably something about how, right after I rejected Dusk—because being set on fire is a pretty solid rejection—I let myself be touched by the human lover.

  And there’s that niggle of jealous rearing its ugly head again…

  Speaking into Rys's chest as he holds me, I ask, “Have you touched many? Humans, I mean.”