Page 46 of First Snow

“You’re adorable,” Arttu mumbles. “Also, I’m lucky that you’re far more good-looking than Jabba the Hutt.”

Jareth leans down to lick a broad stripe from between Arttu’s shoulder blades up to his neck. “But I’d like to taste you all over too.” He tilts Arttu’s head to the side to lick Arttu’s throat next, then the curve of his deltoid muscle.

Arttu moans, feeling like his knees might buckle under him. He wouldn’t mind if Jareth tied him to the bed and licked him until he couldn’t remember his own name.

“Do you like that?” Jareth’s voice has dropped an octave.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good,” Jareth growls, the rumbling sound going straight to Arttu’s dick. He’s thankful that the little string thingy he’s wearing under his skirt conceals his erection at least to some extent.

“Now we have two more things to settle before we go.” Jareth reaches for a black box sitting on top of the dresser. Arttu would have thought it’s a jewelry box if it wasn’t so big.

“I have a little present for you,” Jareth purrs. He opens the box, and Arttu can only stare at the golden collar sitting in a nest of green velvet. The thing is solid, with a lock at the neck and a ring in front where a chain can be attached. For such a hefty piece of jewelry it looks surprisingly elegant.

“Do you want to try it on?”

Arttu nods, his mouth suddenly too dry to answer. Isn’t it a huge thing if a Dom offers his sub a collar?

The jewelry is of mesmerizing beauty. Jareth picks it up and places it around Arttu’s neck. It feels cool to the touch, but warms swiftly to his skin. Jareth closes it with a satisfyingclick.It fits perfectly, and how is this even possible? He hasn’t given Jareth his measurements, has he?

Jareth attaches a golden chain like a leash to the ring at the collar’s front. “Perfect,” he says, tugging on the chain and making Arttu stumble forward a few steps on unsteady legs. The humiliation and arousal make it hard for Arttu to do even something as simple as walk.

Jareth sits on the bed and gestures for Arttu to lie down across his lap. Arttu is too far gone to care. He lowers himself carefully, offering his back to Jareth.

“Good boy,” Jareth praises as he pushes the fabric aside to expose Arttu’s ass. “Look at you being so pretty for me.”

Jareth takes his time massaging Arttu’s ass and thighs, before heoh so carefullyworks a plug inside him. By the time he’s satisfied with his work, Arttu is trembling and panting. He has no idea how he’s supposed to interact with anyone in the state he’s in. Jareth gives his ass a final smack that makes Arttu yelp in surprise.

“Get up now, sweetheart. We’re late.”

Jareth helps him up, and Arttu sways slightly on his feet. Damn, how is he supposed to pay attention to what’s happening around him?

Arttu’s mind is whirling with all the sensory stimuli that bombard his senses. Briar’s hunting resort is larger than he expected. There are endless corridors, room after room filled with antique furniture and expensive carpets, the walls decorated with art and hunting trophies. It’s an obscene display of wealth and bad taste.

Arttu’s steps falter for a second as he spots the first of the guests, a nude guy crawling behind his Mistress. Only now does the fact that they’re invited to a goddamn orgy fully register. Jareth seems to sense his hesitation and turns to him. They have left the more or less private area of the guest wing and stepped into the public part of the building already swarming with guests.

“Remember that I’m always here for you. If you don’t like something, if you’re overwhelmed, we’ll get out. Are you okay to start, sweetheart?”

“Yes, sir.” Arttu isn’t sure at all. Adrenaline floods his system as they enter a large room—a ballroom, Arttu realizes. It’s crowded, the air heavy with the smell of sex and perfume, and the sounds of moaning and pounding music assault his ears. Arttu balls his fists. His body tenses as if ready to fight, but what he needs to do is surrender, and he isn’t sure he’ll be able to do that if all these people are watching him. Somehow this is different from the public scene they did at Jareth’s club.The Worshipfelt safe.Thisplace feels like enemy territory.

He pushes down his instincts and forces himself to follow Jareth, always staying a half step behind him. Even if Jareth wasn’t holding the chain connected to Arttu’s collar, Arttu would’ve made sure to stay close. No one dares to touch him, but by the way people are staring at them it’s only because he’s with Jareth.

“Welcome Master Faeling. We are very pleased that you were able to make it.”

Arttu immediately recognizes Lemaire’s voice. Briar’s bodyguard is wearing an expensive suit, as per usual, and red contact lenses that glow ominously in the dim light. Arttu has never seen anything like them outside of a horror movie. How do they even work? To complete the costume, black horns are peeking out from Lemaire’s equally black curls. It should look ridiculous, but Lemaire manages to pull off the sexy demon outfit quite well. Arttu stays halfway behind Jareth and watches the two talk from under his lashes.

Jareth musters the bodyguard and snatches a flute of champagne from a passing waiter. He takes a swig and tugs on the leash.

Arttu stumbles forward. He feels awfully out of his depth and, to his chagrin, incredibly aroused. The danger is going to his head, as is the fact that Jareth is like a solid rock at his side. It’s an illusion, a lie, but it feels like they’re facing this danger together, like Jareth always has his back.

Leaning down, Jareth kisses him. Arttu almost chokes in surprise as sparkling champagne floods his mouth. Oh god. He utters a strangled sound as he tries to swallow and kiss Jareth at the same time. Having someone spit alcohol into your mouth shouldn’t be so hot.

Lemaire clears his throat awkwardly. “Lord Briar invites you to sit at his table, sir. If you would like to follow me?”

Jareth’s focus stays on Arttu, a mischievous smile lighting up his features. His back is to Lemaire, so the bodyguard can’t see the playful sparkle in Jareth’s eyes. But he lets Arttu see it. He’s riling Lemaire up on purpose and letting Arttu in on his game. Arttu loves it. He loves being the center of Jareth’s attention, his partner in crime. Arttu schools his features into an impassive mask, but he’s quite sure that Jareth can sense the smile tugging at his lips.

“Lead the way,” Jareth finally says after letting Lemaire stew for a few more seconds.