Page 31 of Given to the Fae (The Dark Realms #3)

I find myself nodding. I’m scared, but I’m not afraid of him, not as a slave is afeared of a master anyway. This is something different.

I’m frozen as he picks me up easily and deposits me further up the bed before he slides down my body to kneel between my legs.

His massive hands take hold of my knees and draw them wide, the shirt riding up.

When he can see me, his eyes move over every part of exposed flesh, and just when I’m contemplating covering myself, he moves forward and buries his nose between my legs.

I startle and cry out and he draws back.

‘Has anyone ever touched you here? Not as a release, but just to give you pleasure because they wanted to?’

I shake my head and he lets out a feral growl as he descends and licks me once all the way from arse to mound.

I try to hold in my whimper as the sensations of his tongue on me register.

‘Lean back and close your eyes,’ he murmurs from between my legs as he parts me with his thumbs and nuzzles a place that makes me moan.

‘I wanted to take my time,’ I hear him say. ‘I was going to make you moan over and over again, learn every single thing that you like my tongue to do but I don't think I have the patience, not this time. Gods, how I’ve dreamed of making you scream beneath me.’

I groan at his filthy words, and then keen as he locks his lips around me and sucks gently, his tongue swirling around, seemingly everywhere. A lone thick finger plays at my entrance and my hips buck when he doesn’t give me more than a shallow probe.

‘Please,’ I whisper.

‘Are you wet enough to take my finger?’ he asks.

I nod vigorously, and he chuckles. ‘Let’s see.’

His tongue enters me, thick and hot, and he growls low.

‘So sweet.’

The tongue moves to my folds again, and I feel his finger slide slowly into me.

I whimper at the feel, how it stretches me a little and I hear him exclaim softly.

‘You’re so small,’ he murmurs. ‘I think just one or two tonight. We’ll work you up to taking my fist.’

My eyes fly open to see if he’s joking, but I don’t think he is.

‘Your fist?’ I whisper.

‘Not tonight,’ he promises, his finger working gently in me.

He crooks it inside me, and I squeal, throwing my arm over my mouth to muffle the sound.

His mouth is on me again, licking and sucking, humming vibrations.

His finger moves faster, pumping in and out of me, touching me in ways I’ve never dreamed of.

‘Find your pleasure. Come for me,’ he whispers, adding a second finger and driving it into me, my legs shake and my tummy spasms as I writhe under him.

I cry out behind my arm, biting it to stop my screams as sensation courses through me and leaves my limbs feeling weak and limp.

Morgan props himself up on his elbows and grins at me, his mouth wet. He offers me his fingers.

‘Clean them for me,’ he rumbles, but he says it like a question, not a command.

My mouth opens and my tongue flicks out to taste myself. His eyes soften and he licks his lips.

‘Are you going to...rut me now?’ I ask.

He blinks and I think I see anger. My brow furrows. He must not want me like that.

‘Who would? He like as not can’t get it up for so ugly a female ,’ Warrior’s voice whispers inside my head.

I draw in a quick breath, tears prickling the corners of my eyes for reasons I don’t understand. But he doesn’t notice, already moving from the bed.

I draw my legs together and sit up, intending to leave him alone, but he waves a hand at me.

‘Stay,’ he says, drawing on a fresh shirt and climbing into the bed next to me with his breeches still on.

‘Sleep, Bryn,’ he murmurs, throwing an arm over me. ‘You’re safe here.’

More confused than ever, I turn away from him and let out a small squeak as he pulls me into him, my arse fitting against him snugly.

I don’t mean to relax against him, but my sated body does just that.

I can’t help myself as I close my eyes, and just before I succumb to sleep once more, I hear him whisper. ‘I’ll keep you safe, I promise.’

Morning seems to come quickly, and I’m woken by the sound of a door banging open. My eyes are wide and I’m on my feet immediately, ready to run for my life or get on my knees and beg for it.

But when I see Locke’s angry eyes, I wonder if there’s any point in doing either.

‘What is it?’ Morgan asks from the bed.

Locke glares at him and gives me a narrow eyed look. ‘What are you doing in here?’

‘I-I’m sorry, my lord.’ I stammer.

My stomach turns and twists and, for a moment, I’m afraid I’m going to be ill and my eyes dart around for a chamber pot. He swears under his breath, and takes my arm, pulling me from the room. Luckily the odd feeling in my belly begins to fade.

Locke stares at me, taking in every part of my appearance thoroughly.

‘Did he do anything you didn’t want?’ he finally asks.

Thinking back to the way Morgan’s mouth made me feel, my cheeks heat and I shake my head. Locke seems relieved.

‘Did he tell you where he was last night?’

I hesitate. I don’t understand their friendships. Perhaps Morgan doesn’t want Locke or Jak to know what he's been up to. It’s not my place to tell them regardless. But Locke’s eyes bore into me, and I find mine going to the floor in submission as usual.

‘He said he was fighting in the pit, my lord.’

Locke takes hold of my chin and forces my face up to his. His jaw ticks.

‘He said that?’

I nod, and I realize the odd feeling is back. It’s an ache that’s low in my body and it’s making me want... I give myself a mental shake.

Locke lets me go and steps back. ‘This is for you. But don’t put it on until I say.’ In his hand is a yellow bracelet.

‘What is it?’ I ask.

‘A bracelet,’ he mutters as if I’m simple.

‘What for?’

‘You’ll see. Keep it safe for now and don’t lose it. We’ll explain later. In the meantime, stay away from Morgan or the deal is off.’

I look at him sharply, but he’s already turning away, not saying anything more.

‘Stop,’ I say without thinking. ‘He came to me. He?—’

‘Did you tell him no?’

Cheeks hot, I shake my head.

‘Next time, tell him no, Bryn, or you won’t be coming to the Light Realm with us no matter what you say to Bere. Do you understand?’

I nod, panic suffusing me to the core.

‘Yes,’ I whisper.

He leaves the room without another word, and I sink down onto one of the chairs, not understanding these fae at all.

I push the memory of the way Morgan made me feel last night away, and the unusual sensation I have this morning.

I need to focus on what I want, what I need.

That’s the Light Realm, not passing pleasure with some fae who doesn’t even really want me.

Morgan enters the room and smiles at me. I scowl back and immediately turn away.

‘Bryn?’ he asks, sounding concerned.

‘Yes, my lord,’ I ask, emotionlessly.

‘It’s my lord again, is it?’

I say nothing.

‘Last night...I’m sorry if I...’

I inwardly wince. He’s being so kind where I expected disregard and aloofness. How can I be cruel when he seems so happy?

Then I think about what Locke said and I steel myself.

He’s a master, an odd one granted, but still above me in every way that matters here.

He could kill me right now and no one would say a word, except maybe Bere because he’d be out of pocket.

If they don’t take me to the Light Realm, in less than two weeks, I’ll be sold to the arena, and I’ll be dead soon afterward one way or another.

An unwelcome thought enters my mind. What if when they inevitably discover I’m Kismet, they decide to put me in the ring instead of trying to breed me simply so that my opponent is struck down every time I’m hurt?

The masters would enjoy the novelty. I’d be dead just as quickly as if I’m fucked to death. My fists clench where Morgan can’t see.

‘It’s nothing, my lord. I was due a release anyway.’

His silence makes me yearn to look up, but I don’t.

‘Bryn,’ he says with such upset that it makes my lip wobble.

I bite it still.

‘I wasn’t releasing you. Not...like that.’

‘It felt the same, my lord,’ I force myself to say. ‘A master is a master.’

He’s silent. I can feel his eyes taking me in, trying to find a crack in my armor. I give him nothing except my false indifference and luckily that seems to be enough.

‘I see,’ he says very quietly, and I hear him leave the room.

I wipe my eyes and ignore the horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. This is for the best. Locke was right. Morgan seems to believe that he actually holds some true affection for me. Gods only know why that would be the case. Perhaps he fancies himself a white knight.

I snort aloud. I won’t be saved by a fanciful story, or some male who mistakes his pity for caring.

If I want to live and live free , I need to get to the Light Realm.

I’m the only one who can save myself. No one else is coming.

I realized that long ago. That’s all there is to it.

These fae are a means to an end, and if I have to play by their rules to survive, I will.

Perhaps I’ll never get to the Light Realm. That’s a real possibility. This is but the first step of a journey fraught with danger. I know that.

I stand up and look around. None of the fae seem to be here and I feel a bit lost. There’s nothing for me to do.

I’ve been given no tasks, and I’m restless.

I pick a book off the nearby shelf and turn the pages, looking for pictures, but there are none.

The symbols that make the words mean nothing to me.

At least, I think they don’t, but my eyes fall on one in particular.

A stick with two half circles attached to it facing to the right.

I trace it with my finger, and I’m transported into a hazy memory of doing the same.

But my fingers are smaller, and I’m sitting in a chair.

There’s a human in a white robe telling me the noise this symbol means.

‘Bu for Bryn,’ I whisper.