Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 120029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
“I’d say we have more stories about not going into the woods, or to be careful what you wish for since it might just happen,” I say in an ominous tone as I think about his wish to break our bond. If that came true any sooner, we might have been apart and miserable by now. “Something you wish for right now?” I tease and squeeze his ass.
He snorts, pressing his forehead to mine. “We have those too. But I think the wish I have right now is actually very, very easy to fulfill,” he whispers, and his hand drifts down my chest.
It might be cold, but I’m yet to find a temperature in which I’d be unwilling for a quick bit of fun. Since I know this maze, I turn into a corridor leading us farther away from the ball. “Oh, no…” I say theatrically. “But what if someone comes?”
“You’ll just have to hide me,” he rasps, and I almost lose balance when his kiss sends a hot jolt all the way to the tips of my fingers.
“My cloak is wide enough. Or I could do it with my wings,” I say and spread them out, then move them forward, to wrap them around him. I love how wide and shiny his eyes get whenever he sees them.
Once we reach a far corner of the maze, I put him down and go in for a kiss, still shielding him with my wings as if it’s a cocoon made for us. “Are you sure you’re warm enough?” I ask breathlessly, but I’m already pulling open the ties at the front of his pants.
I want him now-now-now, and I won’t settle until I taste his cum.
Nate laughs, his hands insatiable on my chest. “Oh God, yes, Tristan. Cold won’t ever keep me away from you.”
I don’t even need fire, because his words alone are enough to make my skin nice and balmy. When he slides his hand over my hardening cock, molten heat flares up in me from the inside. He is so sweet, so playful, so eager, and I will never take any of this for granted.
As soon as his pants are open, I kneel in the snow, thankful for my thick leather pants. I’m already missing his hand on my cock, but I can wait a bit longer if that means I get to feel his prick pulsing with heat in my mouth.
He gasps when I pull out his cock and taste its rock-hard curve.
Nate puts a hand over his face to stifle a moan, as I bob my head to prove that the one blowjob I’ve given him so far was not just a lucky score. I love pleasuring my lovers and could spend hours worshipping him like this, but I can’t ignore the sound of voices getting louder on the other side of the wall of bushes.
“No one without an invitation is allowed.”
A shrill male voice answers. “But you don’t understand. I was supposed to meet with the prince. He was to visit me—”
“So you don’t have an invitation,” a man who must be a guard says sternly.
“It is a matter of urgency! I haven’t come here to nibble on free food and romance royal blood. Though, I admit, that would make for a pleasant evening—”
“Be gone!”
“I am Merethis Nightscribe, a renowned astronomer, and I will not be dismissed like a common peasant!”
I reluctantly let Nate’s cock slip out of my mouth, and our eyes meet when I look up.
Chapter 32
Nate
My balls will be aching later, but if this is the man Tristan told me about, we cannot let the guards just drive him away.
I tuck my hard cock in and pull at Tristan. “You need to tell them,” I say breathlessly.
“Fuck,” he groans, getting up, then gives my lips a lick. “Let’s go.”
He rearranges his clothes as I frantically tie up my pants. That’s the one problem with fantasy clothes—most of them are not easy to take off or put back on. Fortunately, the astronomer is not one for giving up, and the guard is entertaining the argument instead of poking the elf with his sword, so we have enough time to get ourselves in order.
For a second I panic that we won’t make it through the maze on time, but then Tristan picks me up without even asking and we’re up. Two surprised gasps tell me that we’ve been spotted, and moments later, we land next to the two elves.
The guard stalls, only to salute. “Ser Tristan. My apologies for the noise, but this man demands entry despite not having a valid invitation.”
The astronomer scoffs.
Whenever I imagine alchemists, astronomers, or other figures associated with science in fantastical worlds, I expect them to have long, silvery beards and fingers like the branches of an old tree in winter, but Merethis Nightscribe is clearly in his prime. His skin has a warm, deep brown tone that seems to hold the glow of the lantern hung above the gate, and his eyes are a navy blue around the reflection of the moon that appears to have replaced his pupils.