Page 19 of First Snow
“They were thinking of you when they invented the term bratty bottom. We’ll have to work on this attitude of yours,” Faeling laughs. “But all right, I’ll grant your wish.”
Faeling fastens the cuffs around Arttu’s wrists and attaches them to the headboard with practiced grace. Arttu wouldn’t have been able to stop him if he tried. The realization makes a strange swooping feeling settle in the pit of his stomach.
“Now, I want you to hold still,” Faeling says.
“Yes, sir.”
Arttu isn’t sure at all if he’ll be able to do as Faeling tells him. It’s been so long since anyone touched him; even his appetite for pleasuring himself has died down due to the pressure of his job and his crazy work hours. Arttu had almost convinced himself that sex just isn’t as satisfying for him as it is for others. Seems like he needed to be tied up by a potentially homicidal sex club owner to rediscover his desires.
To Arttu’s chagrin, Faeling takes his time teasing him. He caresses Arttu’s body with utmost reverence, kissing and licking, sucking bruises everywhere he can reach. But he doesn’t touch Arttu’s cock. He doesn’t even do so much as brush over his entrance. And despite that, Arttu is a trembling mess, sweating and panting.
“Please,” it takes a few seconds until Arttu realizes that it’s him speaking. But he can’t stand the teasing anymore. He’ll go crazy if Faeling drags this out even another minute. “Please, I can’t—”
Faeling positively purrs at his words. “Please, what, darling?”
Arttu pulls on the cuffs uselessly.
“Stop teasing. I need—” His words are cut off by a whine as Faeling bites down on his neck, licking the spot to ease the sting.
“Bossy,” Faeling grins. “But that would be too easy. You can come like this.”
Arttu thinks he might have misheard. Faeling can’t be serious. But the bastard doesn’t even bother to put a finger in him, just pushes Arttu’s thighs apart, holding him down and rubbing over his hole and his nipples. Arttu squirms helplessly under his touch, a stream of profanities falling from his lips. Faeling shuts him up with a searing kiss. When he leans forward, he allows Arttu the tiniest bit of pressure against his cock. Arttu gasps and thrusts his hips up wantonly. He doesn’t even care. He takes what friction he can get, squirming helplessly and leaning into Faeling's touch. And despite the inadequate stimulation, it takes Arttu only a few more seconds to come, moaning wantonly into Faeling’s mouth.
Arttu slumps, blood rushing in his ears. He only barely registers Faeling rising onto his knees and pulling out his cock. Arttu watches with hooded eyes how Faeling strokes himself leisurely. Even in the bright morning sunlight, Faeling looks like a dark deity, sexy and dangerous. Arttu whines, as Faeling comes all over his belly.
Faeling utters a dark sound, almost a growl and smears his come over Arttu’s chest. When he’s satisfied he leans down to kiss Arttu again.
“I’ll enjoy marking you everywhere, watching my come trickle out of you while you lie spread open for me.”
Arttu shudders. They’ve only just met. Hearing Faeling say such possessive shit shouldn’t make him feel all mushy, because maybe this is it. Maybe Faeling is a possessive bastard. Could Mikael and Jenna have been his subs, too? Did he kill them because they stepped out of line? Arttu wouldn’t have pegged Mikael for a sub, but what does he know?
An uneasy feeling washes over him. He tells himself that it must be disgust at coming undone like a horny teenager under the hands of Mikael’s potential killer, but if he’s being honest with himself it’s more likely jealousy. He hates the idea that he’s just another face in the line of subs who must get into Faeling’s bed regularly. Suddenly, Arttu can’t stand looking Faeling in the eyes anymore. He turns away, hiding his face in the pillow and trying to calm his erratic breathing.
“Oh, no. Not like that.” Faeling’s long fingers curl around Arttu’s chin, forcing eye contact once more. “Don’t get lost in your own head now. What has got you all upset?”
“It’s nothing,” Arttu says, sounding not overly convincing to his own ears. It was just sex, dammit. Why does it make him feel so vulnerable, like Faeling’s mismatched eyes can gaze into his very soul.
“You’re shaken.” Faeling states as if it were a fact. “It’s perfectly normal to experience emotional disturbances after an intense session like this. It’s okay.”
Arttu frowns unhappily. He enjoys Faeling’s attention way too much. “Can you free my hands now?”
Faeling looks like he might refuse for a second, which sends a new wave of adrenaline through Arttu’s veins. Then a playful smile lights up Faeling’s face. It makes his whole appearance change from grumpy god of the underworld to delighted incubus.
“Only if you promise to not run the second I free you,” Faeling says, but he’s already undoing the cuffs.
“I don’t want to impose on your time. I’m sure you have others waiting to play with you.” At least Arttu can pretend that he’s asking in order to find out if Mikael and Jenna could have been Faeling’s subs, too. Maybe he can gauge how many people Faeling hooks up with on a regular basis.
“Don’t you think it’s a bit early to become jealous?” Faeling says, but he seems pleased instead of taken aback.
“I’m not jealous. I just—”
“No need to worry. You’re the only sub demanding my attention right now.”
Right now? What is that supposed to mean? But Arttu senses that he won’t get any more information out of Faeling at the moment, so he relaxes back into the cushions and frowns down at the mess they made on his chest.
“Do you want to take a bath?” Faeling offers.
Arttu shrugs as if he doesn’t care. “Yeah. Whatever.”