“But, if they pay their money first, we have a strict no refund policy, Your Highness,” Rhys explained.
“Fine,” Beck said, covering a yawn. “I’ll stay out of sight. I need a nap, anyway.”
Rhys stood and gestured to the room at the back of his office. “I had a pallet made out for just such an occasion.” Beck stood as the gnome frowned. “Your Highness, would you like for me to find a female for you? To take care of your needs?”
Beck growled, but it was at himself. He was still hard as a rock. “No. I can’t now. I’ve seen her, touched her. She is mine, and that makes me hers. I’ll be fine.”
He pushed through the curtains and gratefully sank into the down mattress on the floor. The curtains closed and Beck was alone. He heard Rhys exit the main section of the tent. Beck pulled his boots off, thinking about the fact that he couldn’t take another female. It was as his mother had promised him. Meg was his, and the thought of another female was now repugnant to him. Beck laid back and loosened his trousers. He smiled up at the canvas roof of the tent. But the thought of her…
His hand closed around his swollen cock. He slowly pumped up and down, thinking of her luscious tits and that pretty little mouth of hers. She could spew some shrewish waste out of that mouth. Beck decided whenever she said something he didn’t like, he would simply have to find a way to shut her up.
His cock lengthened further. Beck brushed his thumb across the swollen head. The small slit in the head of his dick was weeping. Beck used the cream to facilitate his masturbation. He stroked from the base to the head and back, taking his time. He wasn’t in a hurry. While his hand worked his cock, his mind saw Meg. He couldn’t wait to get her breasts in his hands again. He would palm them and gently pinch her nipples until they were ready for his mouth. He would suck those ripe berries until she begged him to move his mouth lower. He would, in his own sweet time. He would learn her body. Once he had her gorgeous body between him and Cian, she would know the true meaning of pleasure.
Beck would make sure he was always in control. She was small, and he didn’t want to hurt her. She wouldn’t be able to handle his demanding nature, but he could please her all the same. Cian was going to love her. It had been almost a year since they’d shared a woman. Beck had been fucking a local woman from their village. She was lovely, but Cian couldn’t stand her. He refused to have anything to do with Liadan. Beck could admit that Liadan was a bit cold. She was a demure and perfect Fae lady. That had never done it for Cian. Cian liked a woman who gave him a bit of hell. There was no way he would refuse their own sweet Meg. Cian was going to lose his mind when he saw her.
Beck felt his balls squeeze, and he picked up the pace. His breath labored in and out of his chest. He squeezed his cock as it started to swell. She was going to taste so good. That little snack he’d had would be nothing compared to making a full meal of her. He would love eating that sweet pussy. He would get his mouth on her, and he wouldn’t let up until she begged and pleaded that she couldn’t take another orgasm. Beck’s entire body flushed. He pounded away at his cock. She would taste him, too, he promised himself, and sooner than she could imagine. He just had to remember to treat her with the gentle care a bondmate required.
He came, envisioning himself shoved halfway down her throat. He came in hot spurts, covering his thighs in his own cum. It didn’t matter. For the first time in a long time, he found it easy to sleep.
Meg was shaking slightly as the gnome, and now she was pretty damn sure it was a gnome, removed the collar from around her neck.
“Was that…?” Meg found it difficult to form the words. It was ridiculous. It was stupid. It just might be real. “Holy shit, were those men vampires?”
The gnome, who she thought was named Cara, laughed gently. Her light blonde hair shook. She looked at her husband, the gnome named Rhys, and said something in that other language they spoke before turning back to Meg. “Aye, mistress, they are vampires, but don’t worry none. We won’t let them bite you. They just want to see what they will be fighting for.”
She put a hand on her hip and said something to her husband.
Rhys rolled his eyes. “Fine then, woman. Meg, my wife wants to unchain you. We’re taking you to the arena where the tournament will occur. You can watch one of two ways. I can keep you bound and naked like that, or I can give you a robe and let you sit with us in the stands.”
“I think I’ll take the robe.” Meg wasn’t going to let this chance get by her. The gnomes were small. One well-placed kick, and she would be on her way.
Rhys’s eyes narrowed on her. “If you run, you should know that one of them vampires will be on you before you can think to shout. They’ll play by the rules as long as you do, but the minute you run, they’ll chase you down. It’ll be a free for all.”
Meg thought about the fangs and the look of hunger in the vampires’ eyes. She shivered. “I’ll stay close.”
At least she would be out of the chains and clothed. She wondered where Beck was and if he’d changed his mind. He hadn’t been back to see her, and it had been hours. No one else had been allowed to touch her. When they tried, the gnomes explained that if they did not follow protocol, they wouldn’t be allowed to fight. Meg didn’t ask why Beck had been special.
Rhys allowed his wife to unchain her. Meg sighed as she began to get circulation back into her wrists. “Where am I?”
“You really don’t know?” Cara asked with a look of sympathy on her face.
Meg shook her head. For the first time, she tried to look at these people as something other than her captors. If she was going to save herself, she needed them. While she was chained, it had occurred to her that if she were going to run, she should gather as much intelligence as possible first.
Cara brought over a gossamer robe and handed it to her. It was really more of a caftan, Meg decided as she pulled it over her head. The fabric was the softest she had ever felt against her skin. Though it was practically sheer, Meg felt it warming her skin.
The dress-like robe cut a deep V at the neck, showing off her breasts. She tried to tug it closed, but it didn’t work. Cara moved in behind her and expertly tied it in the back. The garment molded to her curves. It was utterly unlike the shapeless clothes she preferred at home. Her ex-husband, Michael, had always said she needed to lose twenty pounds and bleach her hair blonde. She’d never been willing to go blonde. Her auburn hair was the only thing she truly liked about her looks, but she’d tried to lose the weight. It hadn’t worked. Of course, Beck hadn’t seemed to mind her weight.
“Bloody hell,” a fast-talking voice said from the background. “You’re gorgeous, sweetheart. Seriously, you are one fucking beautiful consort. Look at that glow. Are those tits real? No one has real tits where I come from. Fucking plastic surgeons screw up everything. Pretty soon we’ll all have plastic dicks, and what fun will that be? Let me tell you something, babe, the day they come for my cock and fangs is the day I leave my home plane forever.”
Meg’s eyes widened as she took in the slick-looking vampire. Perfectly white fangs peeked from behind sensual lips, so there was no denying what he was. She had landed in an all-out, go-for-broke, freaky dream. Maybe she should start calling herself Alice because apparently, she had fallen down a rabbit hole.
“Oh, no, Mr. Dellacourt,” Rhys was saying with a shake of his red cap. “The tourney is about to begin. Her viewing is over. If you wish to buy an entry, there is still time. However, her viewing is done.”
The vampire named Dellacourt shook his head. Strangely, the vampires were the closest thing to a normal human she had seen, if one forgave the fangs. His skin was light, almost alabaster, and his green eyes were like emeralds. The vampire, as his fellow vamps had been, was dressed in an elegant approximation of a business suit. They wore somber, deeply colored jackets. The blacks and grays and navies seemed almost luminous. Dellacourt was wearing black from head to toe. He had on a sleekly cut jacket that reached his knees and a matching vest. The only color he had on was a ruby red shirt that peeked out from under the vest. His trousers and loafers were midnight-colored as well. Unlike Beck, the gnomes, and the other men who had come to “view” her, the vampires seemed to have left the feudal era behind.