Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
We walk toward a massive fireplace, flames crackling in its hearth. Before it, where I would have perhaps placed some chairs for reading and a cart for cozy tea, is a long, narrow table, upon which lies the faery I saw in the garden the day before. His arms are stretched above his head, bound to the corners of the table, as are his splayed legs.
He’s completely nude.
“Yesterday, you learned about anatomy that is familiar to you. Today’s lesson requires me to take a more hands-on approach.” Luthian stands beside the table and glides one finger down the faery’s perspiring chest, all the way to his thick cock, hard and straining for touch. Luthian stops just short of contact, though.
“This is Firo. Another of my students,” Luthian says casually.
I didn’t realize he had other students. I don’t like it. I certainly don’t like that I don’t like it. I temper my expression as I examine the faery laid out before me.
Rather than succumb to petty jealousy, I use the moment to learn. With Sarta, it was easy enough. We have all the same components. While I saw Luthian pleasuring himself the day before, and the faery in the audience my first night, I’ve never had an opportunity to become so thoroughly acquainted with a body that’s different from mine. Where I am all softness and curves, this faery is lean and tightly muscled. His skin gleams like warm flame through smokey quartz.
“Faeries don’t seem to have body hair,” I muse aloud.
“Good observation,” Luthian says. To the panting, writhing Firo, he notes, “Cenere is a human. Today, you’ll help her to learn exactly how to pleasure a body like yours.”
“And what will I learn?” Firo asks.
He does not use a title to address Luthian, the way I must.
Luthian doesn’t correct him, either. “You will learn endurance. I told you that this lesson would be long, and you would not enjoy it.”
With a cruel sneer, Luthian leans down and places a gentle kiss on Firo’s sweating brow. My guardian straightens and tells me, “I’ve gotten him started for you. We’ve been up since dawn, haven’t we, Firo?”
Firo doesn’t answer.
Luthian trails his fingertips down Firo’s face, his neck, over his chest again, but this time he brushes over the tip of Firo’s cock, too. It’s as if Luthian has struck him. The poor, bound faery hisses and jerks up, but the bonds hold tightly and Firo gives up with a sob of defeat.
“You see? Only a few hours of this...” Luthian curls his hand around Firo’s cock and gives it a few slow strokes. “And he’s already mindless with need.”
Luthian takes my hand and brings it to join his. Firo’s flesh is burning hot and unyielding beneath my fingers, and the groan the faery makes stirs me at my very core.
“Firo, if I asked you for anything right now, you would grant it to me, would you not?” Luthian asks him.
The faery hesitates.
“If I asked you to trade your kingdom just to be allowed to come, you would give it to me?” Luthian clarifies.
“If I had a kingdom,” Firo replies. “You know I have none. Please, just let me... ah!”
His hips jerk and Luthian pulls both our hands away.
“Too close,” Luthian explains. “He’s been nearly ready to spill for hours now. Pleading. Crying, sometimes.”
I believe him, because Firo squeezes his eyes shut at the denial and bangs his head against the table. “Please! I’m almost there!”
“We’ll give him a moment to cool down before we try that again.” Luthian sighs. “I fear I may have kept him too long at the precipice. He’s so sensitive now, he won’t be able to withstand much more.”
“You’re too good a tutor,” Firo says through gritted teeth.
I agree with him on that score, having been just as mindless and wild myself.
“Cenere is fully aware of my capabilities. Are you not?” Luthian asks, arching a brow.
I nod. “Yes, Guardian.”
“And you plead more prettily,” he says. “I believe you were actually in tears before I rewarded you.”
I can’t disguise my puzzled frown.
“When I allowed you to have all of the climaxes I held back from you,” he reminds me, as if wounded that I forgot.
I did not forget. “I thought that was a punishment, Guardian.”
It’s the correct answer, I think, because he smiles at me. “Is torture a punishment? Or is it a gateway to greater pleasure?”
I don’t have an answer.
“That is the lesson you’ll learn today. Both of you. Firo, you’re happy enough to inflict suffering, but you have yet to learn to accept it. Cenere is too gentle, too innocent to properly torment someone.” He addresses me. “How would you make him suffer, Cenere? What, do you believe, would be the most unbearable pain in this moment?”
“I...” My imagination stalls. I don’t want to hurt anyone, but as Luthian has reminded me, torment is as crucial as pleasure in the court. “I suppose one could use implements of torture. Pincers. Branding. Piercing, as you subjected me to.” I cannot push a needle through Firo’s flesh. I nearly gag at the thought.