Page 68 of First Snow
Jareth leans down, his breath fanning over Arttu’s lips. “Can I kiss you?”
The question is ridiculous. It was Arttu, after all, who tried to snog Jareth senseless, or maybe snog some sense into him. Still, Arttu nods eagerly.
“Yes! Please—”
Jareth’s mouth is already on his, taking and exploring, and Arttu decides to roll with it. Needy little sounds slip from his lips as he opens up to Jareth even further. Instinctively, Arttu tries to lift his arms to wrap them around Jareth’s shoulders, but he’s stopped by Jareth’s hand coming up and pushing his wrists firmly back into the mattress. Arousal floods through Arttu’s veins, leaving rising heat in its wake. Arttu moans, surprised to hear the unrestrained sound fall from his lips. How can Jareth’s kisses and his comforting warm weight on top of Arttu feel so incredible? Melting into the touch, Arttu allows his eyes to flutter shut. He feels content, weightless, like he’s floating.
Finally, Jareth abandons Arttu’s lips to mouth at his neck and jawline, sucking bruises there. He takes his time trailing bites and kisses down Arttu’s body, leaving him breathless and almost painfully aroused without even having touched his cock yet. Shameless little moans spill from Arttu’s parted lips.
When Jareth finally,finallycloses his lips around the tip of Arttu’s cock, he bucks his hips. But instead of giving him some much-needed friction, Jareth pulls off again, sending Arttu a stern look.
“What did I tell you to do, sweetheart?”
Arttu’s head is swimming with lust as he scrambles for an answer.
“You—I’m to hold still.”
“Exactly,” Jareth purrs and brushes a gentle hand over Arttu’s flank, down to his hips. “You just have to relax. Let go. Let me take care of you.”
And with that, he leans down and swallows Arttu’s cock to the root. Any coherent thought leaves Arttu as his whole world shrinks down to the mesmerizing drag of Jareth’s tongue. It’s torture not to move, since all Arttu wants to do is bury his hands in Jareth’s ink black curls and fuck his mouth. But he forces himself to keep still and throws his head back with a low whine.
Jareth fumbles with something, never losing his rhythm, and then a slick finger probes at Arttu’s entrance. Electricity shoots up Arttu’s spine and has him moaning again, canting his hips to get Jareth in deeper.
But Jareth won’t be rushed. Arttu desperately tries to keep his writhing and moaning to a minimum until Jareth finally adds a second finger. He thrusts in deeper, brushing over Arttu’s prostate, still sucking every clear thought out of him.
“I’m close. Sir,please—”
Jareth redoubles his efforts. Arttu can feel his orgasm building like a wave. He fights to hold still while he falls apart under Jareth’s touch, his orgasm crashing down on him hard, leaving him dizzy. Why must it be that sex with Jareth is nothing short of mind-altering? Arttu may have screamed Jareth’s name as he came. But none of that matters, because he feels floaty, sleepy in a good way.
Rising on his knees, Jareth strips his cock with fast movements. Arttu watches him with hooded eyes, mouth going dry.
“Kultsi,” Arttu breathes, finally allowing himself to touch Jareth’s soft skin. Shit, he hadn’t meant to say that out loud. But Jareth only smiles down at him, coming with a hoarse cry and shooting his come over Arttu’s cock and belly.
Leaning down, Jareth kisses him, obviously not caring that he’s only adding to the mess between them.
“Fuck. You’re sexy as hell. And also adorable,” Jareth whispers as if sharing a secret.
A lazy smile curls Arttu’s lips, and he feels his eyes droop. He could get used to the praise.
With a wave of his hand and a whispered word, a wet flannel and a towel come flying into Jareth’s waiting hands. He cleans Arttu up, taking his time to caress Arttu’s body. Then he lays down next to Arttu, and manhandles him into the little spoon position. Arttu sighs, leaning contentedly into the warm, firm body behind him.
“You did well,” Jareth whispers into his ear.
Arttu wants to protest, but he can’t put the words swirling around his head into any meaningful order. He wants to talk to Jareth some more, but he’s so tired. Sleep overwhelms him within minutes.
Chapter 22
Jareth
Hewakestothesoft whispering of falling snow. The world outside has disappeared behind a curtain of white. Overnight, the fire burned down, but the werelight he summoned to impress Arttu has nestled in the heavy curtains of the bed canopy.
Arttu is still curled in his arms. He’s naked and warm, breathing softly.Kultsi,Arttu had called him after he’d come undone under Jareth’s touch. It roughly translates to darling, but literally it’s derived fromkulta,which means gold. An endearment. In a way, Jareth is still not convinced that it isn’t the thrall that is forcing Arttu to pretend to be in love with him. But it’s his own magic, and although Jareth can sense that Arttuisaffected by it on some level, it definitely hasn’t broken his free will. It’s paradoxical that Arttu seems to gain more and more control the closer they are to each other. Jareth has never heard of anything like it.
Jareth breathes in Arttu’s scent deeply. He probably shouldn’t have given in when his beloved tried to seduce him. He should have kept his distance. But Arttu had seemed so desperate. He was literally willing to kneel for Jareth, to beg him to stay with him, and Jareth just couldn’t find it in himself to refuse. And maybe something good will come out of this. Because if it’s true that Arttu is starting to believe him, if he’s not completely appalled by Jareth’s Fae nature as Jareth had feared, then maybe their relationship can still be saved after everything that’s happened.
Jareth allows himself a few precious minutes to watch Arttu sleep in his arms. Arttu’s breath is soft and even, and as soon as Jareth gently caresses over his shoulders and back, Arttu leans into his touch. Fascinated, Jareth watches how the muscles ripple under Arttu’s skin. It reminds him of how Arttu looked shackled to the St. Andrew’s cross, writhing under the lashes. The memory alone is enough to make Jareth hard. He wishes he could turn Arttu on his belly and fuck him awake. It would be delicious to see his little human lover come to his senses just to realize that he’s already impaled on Jareth’s cock. To watch him squirm and moan in pleasure when he’s only half awake—
Time to get up. Jareth hurries to take a cold shower to get rid of his persistent hard-on. When he finds Arttu still asleep afterward, he wanders down to the kitchen to prepare some breakfast. First, he makes pancakes, then cuts a bowl of fruit to go with them. He wants Arttu to eat something healthy, after all.