Page 48 of First Snow
Jareth’s thumb gently strokes along Arttu’s jawline.
“None of your business.”
Thrall? What the hell are they talking about?
Possibly-Lord Briar laughs. It’s a cold, unpleasant sound. Arttu swears he can sense Briar’s gaze raking over his body like a slimy touch. He can’t help but squirm nervously in Jareth’s lap. Wrapping his free arm protectively around Arttu’s hips, Jareth halts his movements.
“I see you’re very possessive of your assets. I appreciate that trait in a man. Though, it’s a shame that you don’t share.”
“Is this conversation going somewhere or are you solely repeating my own words back to me?”
Jareth sounds pissed, and Arttu loves him for it.
There’s a thud, followed by a scraping sound; like a heavy object was put down on the table and shoved towards Jareth.
“What’s this?” Jareth asks. He sounds bored, but Arttu can feel that his body is tense, his hips pushing up in tiny movements that drive Arttu crazy.
“It’s the most comprehensive grimoire of the 21th century. The most useful too. I have compiled it myself.”
Jareth snorts. “Is that so?”
“See for yourself.”
“Oh, but I already have one of those. No offense, but isn’t your spellwork a little mundane? I mean, spells for love, riches, and fame—a little witless, don’t you agree?”
Tuulia told him that Lord Briar was into esoteric shit, but Jareth? What on earth are they discussing?
“You already have one?” Briar sounds baffled. “But how—” He trails off. “Was it Mikael? He liked to visit you atThe Worship.”
Arttu barely dares to breathe. Finally, they’re getting somewhere.
“What a bunch of useless acolytes you have accumulated. Laine, Scott, and I guess Suoranta was one of yours too,” Jareth says coldly.
Icy dread makes Arttu’s muscles clench. Jareth utters a low growl against Arttu’s neck and starts gyrating his hips in a mesmerizing rhythm.
“You knew Suoranta?” Briar asks.
Jareth doesn’t pay the question any heed. “Do you know what The Trucemeans?”
“Lemaire said you’re one ofthem. We’re not meddling in your affairs, we just—”
“No,” Jareth interrupts him. His voice has dropped to a rumble that makes the tiny hairs on the back of Arttu’s neck stand up. The tips of Jareth’s fingers dig into Arttu’s throat, and they feel almostsharp. Arttu chokes on a moan.
“The Trucedates back eons, but fortunately for you its message is very simple. If a creature from the Kingdom Beyond preys upon a human, the champion of House Blackrose hunts it down. If a human misuses magic, I hunt them down too.”
Arttu’s head is spinning. How is he supposed to think while Jareth fucks him slowly and thoroughly, while simultaneously talking to Lord Briar as if he were the villain from a fantasy novel?
“Lord Blackrose,” Briar says, fear bleeding into his voice. “Whatever the others have done, be assured I have no part in that. I’m only the editor. I’m not responsible for my readers’ actions.”
Jareth’s hand closes around Arttu’s cock and he starts to pump him languidly along with his shallow thrusts. Arttu has no idea what’s going on. The way Jareth and Briar are talking to each other, the fear in Briar’s voice, everything has the distinctive ring of organized crime. Only what they actually say sounds like a bunch of teenagers at aDungeons and Dragonssession.
Jareth hits Arttu’s prostate, making him cry out in pleasure.
“Consider this my final warning. Burn all your spell books and return to tarot cards and crystal ball divination. For if I find just one more practitioner causing harm with your grimoire, I will hold you personally responsible.”
Something in the room shifts at Jareth’s words. It’s like an aura of power surrounds him. Arttu can feel it down to his core. It’s not unlike the electric feeling that the whip evoked. It makes stars explode behind Arttu’s closed eyelids, and he comes at the same moment Jareth bites down on his shoulder, grunting and spilling inside him. Arttu writhes in Jareth’s lap in mindless pleasure, before slumping in his arms.
Jareth peppers kisses to the side of Arttu’s face and all the way down his throat.