Page 12
Your bed seems too direct, but I’d also like to not put him off by entertaining more chaos. The sooner the better. There is one thing he can solve for me, though, which might lead us indirectly to his bedchamber.
“I have been wondering something, and nobody has given me an answer,” I say, trying to go for sultry. I think I sound constipated, which would be factual.
“Ask away,” Poseidon says.
“Where do you poop?”
Not exactly a sexy question, but a vital one. Everyone is so wrapped up in the sword that they have forgotten some basic needs.
“I can show you,” he declares. Wow, they are really progressive if they go for communal poops down here. Not sure I would ever be comfortable doing that. The faces people pull while pooping cannot be erased.
“That would be awesome,” I tell him. Because clearly it’s something he’s proud to share, and I’m not about to shit on his poop parade.
As we veer left, then right, and make yet another turn, the soft, shimmering light of bioluminescent coral guides our path.
We climb a spiral staircase adorned with intricate mosaics depicting tales of ancient mariners.
When we reach the top, Poseidon swings the door to the vast chamber open with a flourish.
Before us lies a magnificent bedroom within the grand underwater palace of Atlantis.
Vast and resplendent, the arched windows bathe the room in a mosaic of colors as iridescent fish flit about, casting mesmerizing reflections across the pearl-studded walls.
The ceiling mimics the sky above, adorned with hundreds of tiny crystals that resemble stars, twinkling against the deep blue hue.
In the center, a colossal bed draped in silken sheets is reminiscent of ocean waves.
Coral carvings embellish the headboard, depicting the mythical creatures of folklore and legend.
Magnificent pieces of furniture crafted from driftwood and adorned with delicate seashells that pulse with an otherworldly glow surround the room.
“These are my chambers,” he declares as he leads the way inside and deposits his trident on a similar stand my sword sits on. He spins to face me. “Now, did you really want to view the bathing room, or were you just using it as an excuse to have your wicked way with me?”
Umm. I guess pooping can wait until I’m back at the Hallows, so long as it’s in the next turn. Otherwise, things may get messy.
“Definitely wicked way,” I decide. But not the kind of wicked he desires.
He strides up to me and glances at the sword between us with a raised brow. “Did Frank talk to you about what I like?”
He needs to give instructions? What exactly does he like? Hopefully, I can escape before I find out. “Yes?” It definitely comes out as more of a question.
He sighs. “Excellent. Are you up to the task?”
I glance at the bulge in his pants. I mean, do I need to be up? He’s doing a fine job himself.
“Yes, I can’t wait.” Eagerness is sexy, right?
He turns and tugs open a cabinet to reveal a plethora of black tools. A whip, some kind of paddle, weird bulbous objects, restraints. That will not work. I can’t escape if I’m tied up, and there are only four men I trust that much. None of them are here.
He opens a drawer and tugs out a leather corset and panties, along with very tall, pointy boots. “Change into those,” he instructs.
I search for an excuse to get me out of this. Any excuse. That poop is suddenly far more insistent.
“Are these clean?”
He snorts. “Each female gets a new set.”
That’s something, I guess.
He arches a brow at me. “Now. Or do I need to find another female?”
Fuck me. I hope the knights love me, because there’s no one else I would suffer this for. I drop the sword onto the bed and grab the garments. “Turn around,” I tell him. “I don’t want to ruin the surprise.”
He does as he’s told and tugs off his clothing. I rush to do the same, replacing my pretty white gown with the leather. I tuck the potion under my dress and discarded underwear, then put the pile under the pillow.
I spin around, ready to negotiate the restraints situation and blink at the sight of Poseidon on his hands and knees, wearing a black leash and matching mask with pointy ears. The mask covers his eyes and nose, but his mouth is free.
He licks his lips. “Are you going to punish me?” he asks eagerly.
What is happening? I glance around, waiting for someone to jump out and tell me I’m being pranked. When Poseidon whines low in his throat, my eyes jerk back to him. Nope, still here. No prank.
I can totally do this.
“Have you been a naughty boy?” I ask, testing if this is what he wants.
His penis enlarges. Oh Blazes, what have I gotten myself into?
“Yes, mistress, so bad. I need to be spanked.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, suddenly realizing why Gwyneth favors this quirk when dealing with me. I stride around him and over to the cabinet to grab a heavy paddle. My brow crumples as I notice one of the bulbous objects is missing. Where…?
I reluctantly spin around and wince at the shiny object winking at me from between his ass cheeks. My head drops back and I stare at the ceiling, wondering if it’s me that is being punished. The sword is shocked speechless. At least he’s no longer laughing.
Poseidon wiggles his butt in invitation. I need to find my inner—something. Smacking the paddle against my palm, I test its strength. My hand stings, but it’s manageable. I guess. I bring it down twice. His butt cheeks wobble, and he groans.
“Harder. I’ve been so, so bad.”
“What did you do?” I ask.
“I leered at Marie’s bosom when you weren’t around to give permission.”
The dude is an Idol, and I couldn’t give a crap about Marie or her bosom.
Smack. Smack.
“What else?” I snap.
“I cursed a school of clownfish because they looked too cheery.” I hit him a little harder for that one.
Punishing happy creatures is not acceptable.
I need to get him to ingest the potion so I can hurry and get back to my knights.
This situation is scarring me. Perhaps we can find a witch to erase this from my memories.
Poseidon’s hand wraps around his dick, and he groans. I smack him several times.
“Who said you could touch yourself?”
“Sorry, mistress,” he drops his hands to the floor and hangs his head.
I grab his leash and lead him over to the edge of the bed. “Crawl onto the bed and get on your back.”
He does, and I marvel at having someone at my mercy. I get it, but it’s not for me. At least not the pain part.
I grab the potion bottle and drop the paddle. I refuse to sit on him, even if my floof is protected by tight leather right now.
“Open your mouth,” I command.
His mouth pops open, and he thrusts his pelvis into the air. See? If everyone just did as they were told, things would go so much easier.
I uncork the bottle and peer inside. Mr. Tick promised the enchanted potion would cling to skin and not float away. I upturn it, and the purple liquid spills over my fingers before I shove them into his mouth.
“Suck,” I demand. His lips close around my fingers, and he ingests the potion. At first, nothing happens, then his dick droops like a sad wilted flower, plucked before it can bloom. Next, his limbs go slack, and he releases my fingers and slumps onto the bed.
Perfect. No one got stabbed. Look at me go.
I hurry off the bed and crack the door open. The mysterious crocodile emerges from the shadows and hurries toward me. His eyes go wide at my clothing.
“What happened?”
“I don’t wish to discuss it,” I say, closing the door. “Let’s just get out of here before it wears off and I have to finish what I started.”
Mr. Tick nods at the trident and the discarded sword. “Pick up your sword.”
I snatch it up, noting its shock has worn off and we are back to judgy amusement. “Now what?”
“Pick up the trident.”
I arch a brow. “I thought you said it would kill me?”
“It would kill anyone else. Excalibur is a derivative of the trident, as the power comes from the same source. The trident wouldn’t risk hurting what is essentially its offspring. The sword and the trident are a pairing, and you are an extension of them.”
“So they are a giant cutlery set meant to be used together?” I beam.
Mr. Tick stares at me for half a tempo before shaking his head. I tentatively clasp my hand around the trident and lift it. I rock back, my eyes widening as the power almost brings me to my knees.
“Good. I will touch you to make sure I too can leave, but I will not appear in the same place as you.”
That’s good. I am already going to face more questions than I can cope with. I don’t want to explain my alliance with the crocodile.
“Repeat these words, and think of your knights while doing so,” Mr. Tick says.
“Got it.” I picture my knights and wait.
“Power of ocean and blue, release me from this curse is what I ask of you. Return me to what my heart holds true.”
I say the words and feel his tail wrap around my ankle just as power blasts through my body.
I hurtle through the darkness before coming to a crashing stop.
Deep coughs rack my chest as I take in a lungful of air.
My eyes blink open, and I jerk my head up to find three sets of eyes staring at me in shock.
I drop the sword and the trident to the floor.
Nash blinks as he sweeps his gaze from my head to my toes. “What the fuck are you wearing and why?”
“That’s hardly a hello,” I grumble.
“You both owe me two silver coins,” Theo declares. “I told you she’d get herself back here before we could rescue her.”
I grin at him. “Aww, you believe in me.”
He drags his bottom lip between his teeth. “I do, but I was assuming I was getting the virginal white dress Daphne.”
“Things happened, and I do not wish to discuss it.”
“It suits you.”
“Not discussing it. What does a maiden need to do to get a hug around here?”
Two arms sweep in behind me, causing me to squeak in surprise. I’m spun around, and mischievous green eyes dance at me from Malachi’s face before his lips crash down onto mine.
Now that’s a greeting.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12 (Reading here)
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40