Page 21 of My Princeling Brat (Tales from the Tarot #2)

“Have I not sworn my loyalty to you already? To you and the elvish?” he asked, sounding put out.

Rather than answer, I reached for a bottle of oil and splashed some onto my palm, then began to work him in earnest. The crescendo of moans echoing off the stone walls was a symphony of desire.

I couldn’t wait to see what noises he might make while taking my cock.

Every time he grew close to peaking, I retreated and offered him only the lightest of touches and the barest of friction.

And while he writhed in my arms, his beautiful body glistened with sweat, and the scent of his lust perfumed the air around us.

“You are a cruel Master,” he said with a grumble and a pout.

My answer was a wide grin. “You are too beautiful not to torment.”

“Do you say that to all your conquests?”

“No,” I replied. I’d praised my subs for their obedience, of course, but I didn’t form attachments easily, if at all. “And you’re not a conquest, Cedrych.” The mere implication that he was something to be used and discarded? Inconceivable.

“Don’t I deserve to come, my lord? Haven’t I done everything I could to please you?” he asked, near begging. With words as sweet as his, it was difficult to deny him.

“I suppose you have,” I admitted. This time when his warm prick started pulsing, I didn’t let off but stroked him through it.

The prince came with gusto, arching his back as his pearly ejaculate arced through the air and mixed with the warm water surrounding us.

He trembled and gasped, then sighed contentedly and leaned back against me.

When he was soft in my hand again, I reached for my vanadium rod.

“Your other gift,” I said, and with my sorcery, fashioned him a handsome cage, the bottom of it a smooth ring that fit snugly around the base of his cock and balls, gently warming with the heat of his skin.

The penile part curved downward to mold to the shape of his softened prick while rib-like bands secured him in place.

I tugged a little to test its heft. Later, I might add tiny spikes to really torture him, but this was a good beginner piece.

“I was wondering when you might get around to doing this,” he said, exploring the metal with his fingers. The fact that he could no longer touch himself sent a dark thrill through me.

“Your orgasms are mine, sweet prince, and even your ability to get an erection now belongs to me. This metal is an extension of my will, to both pleasure and deny you,” I said.

“Such sweet agony.” He sighed and did not attempt to move from my embrace. “Did your metal master teach you this?”

“Hardly,” I said grimly. “Master Kane believed consorting with others in a sexual way weakened your powers.”

“Does it?” Cedrych asked.

“Not at all. It was one of his beliefs that I have since disproven through vigorous and lengthy experimentation.”

“Stop,” Cedrych said. “I do not wish to hear about your sexual exploits unless I’m involved.”

I smiled at his possessive streak. “My apologies, Your Highness, I’ll keep that in mind.

Master Kane lived as a celibate and demanded excellence in all things.

He once made me shape the perfect egg that would balance atop a spinning disc.

The mass had to be distributed just right for the egg not to fall.

And I wasn’t allowed supper until I mastered it. ”

Master Kane’s warning came back to me then. “Hunger sharpens the focus, Mercier. You will craft this perfectly or you will starve.”

“He sounds as strict as you,” Cedrych remarked.

“Even more so,” I assured him, shaking off my former mentor’s voice. At the time, I thought his methods were simply meant to make me stronger. Now, as an adult, I recognized that Master Kane may have had a sadistic streak.

“I like it,” he murmured, “Your cage, the control you have over me. I think it will be good for me.”

“You like structure, discipline, and rewards. All things I am more than happy to provide.”

My hands drifted over the planes of his skin–those impeccable shoulders and sculpted chest, muscles strengthened from extensive swordplay and military drills. My eyes kept alighting on the now faded mark of my bite. As if knowing my lingering desire, Cedrych said, “So, will you bite me, my lord?”

A second vampyric claim might bond us for longer than the duration of this betrothal. It would be reckless to do so, but I wanted it all the same.

“My mark will show,” I told him. “Our attendants and guards will see it. And it will last longer this time.”

“I still want it,” he said.

“Why do you want it, Cedrych?”

Expelling a long sigh, he began, “Ever since my father died, I’ve been floundering, lost and alone.

With you, I finally feel at peace. I have purpose and someone who listens.

Who sees me and cares about me beyond just court appearances or what I can do for them.

I want to belong to you, my lord, in all the ways that a temporary betrothal will allow. ”

The last of my resolve drained away, for his words were achingly true, an echo of my own yearnings.

“Very well, my prince.” Cradling his head in my hands, I waited until he’d relaxed his neck and shoulders.

I ran my thumb along the vein in his neck, feeling his pulse quicken along with his breath.

The spike of his heart rate was yet another aphrodisiac to the predator within me.

“I’m going to take more this time,” I warned.

“Take as much as you like, my lord.”

My canines dropped and I was sinking my teeth into the prince’s supple flesh before I even knew it. He moaned with pleasure and grabbed hold of his cage, his desires thwarted by my metal. My satisfaction grew tenfold.

“Mercier,” he murmured in complete surrender.

The use of my first name, so intimate and right, caused me to whimper in response.

I took only a handful of swallows, but the taste of him invigorated my senses and robbed me of breath.

Fae blood was a drug, and his bloodline was particularly potent.

I licked the puncture wounds with my tongue, lapping at them slowly, tenderly.

The prince trembled in my arms, and were it not for the cage around his cock, he probably would have given me another spectacular orgasm.

I teetered on the edge of climax myself.

“Cedrych, are you all right?” I swept the hair from his temple and placed a gentle kiss there.

“Yes. I’m simply floating in the clouds again. Thank you for indulging me, my lord.”

This was far more than an indulgence, more like an oath. My heart, which had laid dormant for so many seasons, was now aching, throbbing, as it reached toward the light. Painful and alarming, I didn’t have the words to express the influx of emotions the prince inspired. Not yet anyway.

“You’re welcome, my sweet boy.”