Page 34 of First Snow
Jareth sets a slow rhythm, cherishing every small sound he can coax from Arttu, every shudder and wanton roll of his hips. He reverently peppers kisses all over Arttu’s neck and shoulders until Arttu turns his head and offers his mouth to be ravished too.
Jareth jumps at the opportunity to kiss him profusely. Having Arttu lying under him like this, moaning into his mouth with every drag of his cock and flick of his tongue, is intoxicating. It feels more intimate than the usual scenes Jareth experiences as a Dom. It makes him want to mark Arttu as his, tokeephim. Of course, considering Jareth’s heritage, this is a dangerous thought. His Fae ancestors didn’t have many qualms when it came to enslaving humans that roused their desire. Jareth never had any problems keeping enough distance from his lovers, but Arttu is different, and Jareth isn’t sure he can stay away. He can’t bring himself to worry about it for long, though, not when Arttu is squirming under him likethat.
“Feels so good.Youfeel so good,” Arttu babbles, writhing under him as he’s nearing his orgasm. His third tonight, Jareth thinks not without pride. He picks up the pace, aiming for Arttu’s prostate and making him cry out in pleasure.
“That’s it,” Jareth praises. “You can come for me again, can’t you? Such a good boy.”
Arttu nods fervently, cursing in his mother tongue just before his body locks up and he comes with a strangled wail. The way Arttu clenches around him pulls Jareth right over the edge as well.
They lie curled up together afterward, catching their breath. Arttu’s eyelids start to flutter, and he looks ready to pass out again.
“You need to drink something and eat a few bites for me before you fall asleep,” Jareth says.
Arttu yawns. “Do I have to?”
“Yes,” Jareth says simply, aiming for stern but sounding fond instead.
“As my lord and master commands,” Arttu mumbles and takes the glass of water Jareth offers him.
Jareth freezes for a second, mouth going dry. Of course Arttu is just teasing. He doesn’t mean it, and has no idea what kind of risk he’s taking when he speaks like this to a being like Jareth. Because Jareth’s Fae blood is boiling, his magic singing with the urge to drop his glamour and show Arttu his true form. He wants to tell Arttu he belongs tohimnow, that he isn’t allowed to leave. Jareth rises hastily to fetch the food Annikki surely has sent their way by now.
Back in bed, while feeding Arttu morsels of their dinner and enjoying the trusting way Arttu nestles into his arms, Jareth still can’t help but dissect the strange feelings that creep up on him whenever Arttu is near. He’s falling in love, Jareth realizes with sudden clarity. Except that the feeling is somewhat different for a being like him than what would be acceptable by human standards. If he were capable of it, he would be scared.
Chapter 12
Arttu
ArttupacesJareth’sprivaterooms, fiddling with his phone. He’s feeling pleasantly sore from last night and more rested than he has been in ages because Jareth let him sleep in again. Despite that, a coil of nervous energy has settled behind his breastbone, bubbling merrily no matter how hard Arttu tries to breathe it away.
He pushes his hair back, but the unruly strands won’t stay in place. He just checked his emails, the only way for his friends and colleagues to reach him at the moment, because he left his private cell phone in a locker at the airport. As expected, he found several worried emails from Sofia, a semi-worried one from Tuulia, and an angry one from his boss, asking him to answer the phone asap and come back from vacation because he’s needed at the precinct. Just fucking great.
Taking a sharp turn in front of the bookcase, Arttu sighs. It’s too early to abandon the investigation on Jareth. Something is clearly not right here. First, that obscure Lord Briar and his bodyguard with their talk about doing business with Jareth, and then the encounter with the girl last night. Arttu was pretty out of it, but even shagged silly as he’d been, he knew that something was terribly wrong about their interaction. And what the hell was the girl talking about when she called Arttu Jareth’s ‘human slave’? Of course he knows that the term slave can be used for a certain kind of sub, but somehow the way she talked about it sounded more ominous than any kind of consensual power exchange would suggest. Could Jareth be involved in human trafficking? Arttu can’t imagine that. From everything he learned about him, Jareth wouldn’t be able to—
Oh fuck.
When did Faeling become Jareth in his head? And when did Arttu begin to make assumptions about his good character? He can’t let himself get attached just because they had sex. Well, great sex, Arttu has to grant him that. But still, it isn’t real intimacy. They’ve known each other for only a few days. And if Arttu wasn’t thinking with his dick, he would be able to acknowledge that what Jareth is displaying is textbook toxic behavior. Jareth is getting too possessive, too fast—probably with every sub he meets—and he might’ve already killed because of it. Arttu only needs to prove it. That’s why he’s here, after all, and he owes it to Sofia and Pekka to find out what happened to Mikael.
Opening the door, he takes a quick look at the corridor, but sees neither Jareth nor Annikki. Good. He has to up his game if he wants results.
Arttu retreats into the bathroom, closing and locking the door carefully behind him. He strips and puts a towel around his hips before turning on the shower. Only then does he dial Tuulia’s number. She picks up on the second ring.
“Hei?”
“Hei,Tuulia—”
He doesn’t even get to say his name before he’s interrupted by Tuulia’s angry screeching. “Helvetti,Arttu! Where are you? First you tell me you’re going on vacation, and then I can’t reach you for days!”
“Iamon vacation. And I’m fine. But I don’t have much time right now. Can you check someone for me?”
“Are you in London? Oh my God, are you investigating the hot serial killer? Arttu, I swear, if you get yourself killed you’ll be in so much trouble!”
“I’m okay, Tuulia. No one is going to get killed,” Arttu soothes. “But I need you to focus. Can you do that for me?”
Tuulia snorts angrily. “Okay, fine. What do you want?”
“See if you can find out anything about a certain Lord Briar for me. Concentrate on the older one. And he must have a bodyguard. A guy called Lemaire. He could be French or maybe Belgian? I want everything you can find out about him, too.”
“You realize that you don’t get this kind of information from Wikipedia, do you? This isn’t a five minute job.”