Page 30 of First Snow

Arttu comes with a strangled shout.

Chapter 10

Arttu

Arttufeelslightheaded,bloodrushing in his ears. He distantly registers that Faeling is caressing him all over and whispering words of praise into his ear.

Sighing, Arttu leans into the touch. He wishes he could just melt into Faeling’s embrace and let himself sink into blissful oblivion. But he’s here on a mission. He needs to be aware of his surroundings.

Arttu’s lashes flutter as he struggles to keep his eyes open. The sound of approaching footsteps helps him snap back to reality. In the next second, Faeling covers him with a bathrobe and helps him to his feet. Arttu sways slightly, his vision unfocussed, but Faeling steadies him with an arm around his waist.

“Are you okay?” Faeling asks in a low voice.

“Yeah,” Arttu rasps, although he isn’t sure if that’s true. Is he supposed to feel so disoriented? It’s almost as if he’s drunk. After the rush of orgasm, his senses are slow to return to him. Looking up from where he’s pressed against Jareth’s side, he feels heat creeping over his face.

Annikki is standing a few steps away, obviously the one who passed Faeling the bathrobe. She grins at them. Arttu’s gaze falls on the audience, a crowd of what feels like hundreds of faces watching him. Oh hell. All of these people just witnessed him getting his naked ass spanked while moaning like a whore, before coming his brains out. He suddenly regrets that he’d refused the blindfold and the mask Faeling offered him.

“Come, sweetheart,” Faeling says, pulling him toward the St. Andrew’s cross. “I’m not done with you yet.”

A low whimper escapes Arttu’s lips, partly from distress and partly from excitement. He just came so hard he swears he blacked out for a second, but all it takes to make heat gather in his belly again is the prospect of Faeling chaining him to that cross and using the whip on him. Arttu had no idea his libido is so fucked up.

Faeling guides him to the cross and allows Arttu to lean against it. Arttu is grateful for the support, he isn’t sure his legs would carry him otherwise. Faeling presses close to him, momentarily shielding him from the view of the crowd.

“How are you?” Faeling asks, leaning in close, his breath tickling Arttu’s ear.

“All good.”

Faeling smiles down at him with an expression Arttu can only describe as fond. The warmth in Faeling’s gaze makes Arttu’s chest constrict. But before he can analyze the feeling, he’s pulled into a searing kiss. He can’t help but melt into Faeling’s arms. Tilting his head back to allow Faeling better access, Arttu is desperately turned on again. When Faeling breaks the kiss, Arttu chases after his lips, uttering a soft noise of protest that makes Faeling chuckle.

“So greedy,” Faeling hums. “Now, are you ready for a second round?”

“Yes, sir,” Arttu breathes.

He isn’t. Arttu believes that nothing can prepare him for the all-consuming intensity of that special blend of humiliation and arousal that Faeling has introduced him to. He had no idea he wanted,needed, this in his life. For the first time, a treacherous voice in the back of his mind whispers that he’d prefer it if Jareth wasn’t actually a serial killer, because then Arttu could get more of this new world he has just discovered.

“Good boy,” Faeling praises, seemingly oblivious to Arttu’s inner turmoil. Turning Arttu around by his shoulders, he pushes him against the cross. Arttu’s breath hitches as he feels the hard line of Faeling’s cock pressing against the small of his back. The knowledge that it’s him who is affecting Faeling in this way is thrilling. It makes Arttu nearly purr.

“Remember to use the traffic light system if you’re feeling overwhelmed,” Faeling says. “You can put a stop to this whenever you please. Don’t hesitate to ask for a break.”

“Sure, sir,” Arttu says, rolling his eyes. Seriously, what is it with Faeling that he double-checks for Arttu’s consent at the weirdest moments. Arttu yelps in surprise as Faeling bites down on his neck in answer.

“I saw that little eye roll, but I’m serious Arttu,” Faeling growls against his skin, his voice dropping an octave and sending shivers down Arttu’s spine. “Ask for a break if you need it.”

“I will, I—” Arttu breaks off with a startled moan as Faeling bites him again. To his utter embarrassment, he bares his neck on instinct to give Faeling better access.

“I’m going to secure your wrists now,” Faeling says, snatching Arttu’s right and positioning it above his head where a cuff is attached to the cross. Faeling closes the cuff and repeats the same with Arttu’s left, then takes a step back, admiring his work.

Arttu’s breath quickens. The cuffs are padded with a soft material to prevent chafing, but he has to stand on the tips of his toes, his whole body taut. Faeling brushes his hands gently up and down Arttu’s spine, making him shiver.

“I’m going to chain your ankles next,” Faeling says. His hand wanders to Arttu’s ass and gives it a little smack. Smug bastard.

Gritting his teeth, Arttu takes a quick look over his shoulder. He shouldn’t have. Despite being dazzled by the spotlights, he can make out the audience in the background, all those featureless faces watching him. Arttu’s breath hitches and he hastily hides his face against a beam of the cross.

Faeling traces his hands over Arttu’s back and kneels down to secure Arttu’s ankles to the cross, just like he said he would. It forces Arttu to widen his stance a bit, to spread his legs. A surge of arousal goes straight to his groin and makes his cock twitch with interest again.

“Do you enjoy being watched?” Faeling purrs into his ear.

When did he stand up again? Arttu isn’t sure. He also isn’t sure if the words are meant only for him or if they’re part of the show, spoken as much for Arttu as for the audience’s benefit. What is he to answer? He loves it. He’s ashamed of the extent to which it affects him. If the sex were something he just had to get over with, Arttu could tell himself that he was doing his job. But he very much enjoys it. He’s into it far more than he should. He’s—