Page 22 of Fey Divinity

Fuck.

Human sensibilities aside, it is our honeymoon. Going to someone else’s bed would be shocking. And not in any way I could utilise.

What the hell am I going to do? I can’t touch Jack. I can’t touch anyone else. I can’t go back to the palace to try my usual means, which probably wouldn’t work anyway because I’ve left it too long.

Cold shower! The thought hits me suddenly. That’s what humans do in similar situations, isn’t it? I’ve never had any interest in their shower contraptions, but Jack has one in his washroom, and it has to be worth a try. Absolutely anything is worth a try at this point.

I hurry into Jack’s washroom and tear my nightgown off. At first, the blast of cold water is shocking enough to be distracting. Then the way the water soaks into my hair and makes the unfamiliar weight of my braids more pronounced, is very grounding. But then it is simply painful. Icy cold water raining down on my flesh while my cock burns.

Now I’m shivering. My teeth chattering. My mind is too befuddled to move, even though the cold water is doing nothing for my problem. I’m going to be stuck in here forever until I freeze to death. This is not how I thought I would die.

“Dyfri, are you okay?”

Jack’s voice is warm and concerned, it dances over me. A taunt and a tease. I groan and double over. I can’t take this. It is unbearable.

He walks in and goes stock-still. An immovable statue by the door.

I’m naked, and my hair is a ruin, and I probably look like a drowned cat, but I barely care. There is an all too familiar bitter taste flooding my mouth.

Defeat.

I grit my teeth. “Did you get to the part in your notes about the fey not being able to masturbate?”

“Yeah,” Jack croaks quietly.

Silence falls. There is nothing but the hammering sound of the icy water and my own ragged breathing.

Jack clears his throat. “Would you like a hand?”

Warily, I nod my head. “Yes.”

I brace myself for his mocking. His cruelty. His delight in his power over me. I hope he doesn’t force me to beg.

He steps towards me. His hand reaches into the shower and shuts the water off. He lets his bedclothes fall carelessly to the floor.

He isn’t saying a word. He isn’t even laughing at my predicament. All I can sense from him is concern, nervousness and a little flickering flame of his own arousal.

Surely he is not truly as guileless, wholesome, and kind as he acts? Nobody is. It has to be a performance. One he clearly excels at.

A sharp spike of need bites into me. I’m too miserable to figure Jack out. The puzzle is going to have to wait because right now my body is demanding all of my attention.

My bones are frozen. My flesh is ice. I can’t even shiver now. The cold has seeped into every part of me. Except my stupid cock.

Jack steps behind me. Takes up position at my back. It should be alarming. Terrifying even. But perhaps I’m too cold to care. Or too in need. Or too used to having him behind me because I have been giving him my back every night, a detail he doesn’t even have the grace to be offended by.

I straighten up. Press my back against his chest. He is warmer than a bread oven.

His large hand wraps around my aching cock with delicate care. He moves carefully. Gently. Tenderly.

Jack’s touch lacks technical skill, but his care and sincerity is endearing. His gentleness is enough to make my breath hitch.

He picks up speed and increases pressure. I bite back my moan of relief and pleasure. My eyes flutter closed. I send my mind far away and allow my body to exult in receiving what it needs.

My peak comes blessedly swiftly. I bite my bottom lip and manage to stay silent throughout.

Clouds of disorder slowly clear. I blink. I’m sagging back against Jack, and he is delightfully warm. The furnace of his body heat is blasting the chill away from my bones. I can feel all the firm muscles of his chest pressing into myback. He smells good too. All manly and clean. Healthy and virile. His arm is still around me, and it feels… good. Like something I need.

He goes to move away.