Lysander paled, as Fox stalked towards him.
"Our game, our rules,” Fox insisted. “Whipping boys are here to stay, and if you don’t want your far too beautiful to be fair wings pricked, then you’ll call us Master for the next hour.”
“Or what?” Lysander sneered.
“Or ahh, holds wing full of prickles, and wishes that he’d just said Master, as he rolls around in agony.” Fox’s grin even freaked me out.
“He doesn’t have to call us that.” Midnight prowled to his feet, resting his arms around Fox’s neck and grazing his fangs along it; Fox shuddered. The adoring look in his eyes was like Fox was his god. “I don’t want to be anyone’s Master, see.”
“I told you not to speak,” Lysander said, shakily.
To my surprise, Midnight only latched his fangs more firmly onto Fox and glared at Lysander in a way that was dangerous.
“Just once,” Fox carefully pulled Midnight away from his neck with a shiver. “A single Master, grovel, or bow…?”
Lysander stormed past Fox, throwing himself down in front of the couch. “Fine, my noble self is here and ready to start this ludicrous game of yours.”
When Magenta patted him on the head, I barked with laughter. “Now there’s the spirit! I’m certain that the importance of enthusiasm is in one of the Principal’s Mottos. Although, when I was a girl, we played charades and croquet, rather than—”
“Dirty Truth or Dare.” I smirked.
Hector had taught me this game last term, and seriously, it'd been a dangerous game to attempt with someone as wild as him and an incubus.
Bask's eyes glittered. He crawled sexily to join the circle around the couch, holding out his hand for Willoughby to join him. "My favorite."
Willoughby elegantly settled on his knees, although his expression was shuttered.
"Do you not know what Professor Crow does to us if we're not immaculate?" Lysander stroked down his blazer, straightening it. "Her hexes are...unpleasant. One shall certainly not be dirtying this uniform."
I winked at him. "I wasn't talking about that type of dirty, prince."
When Lysander bristled, I grinned. I'd developed the skill of making titles sound like insults. It was a talent.
Fox led Midnight by the hand to kneel down with him, completing the circle. "Like a dare to change your Facebook status to I'm coming...I'm coming...just come."
Magenta scrunched up her nose. "Why would you put your face in a book or is it a picture book of faces, in which case what has it to do with wanking...?"
"Since there's no Wi-Fi here," Fox sighed, unhappily, "you'll never find out."
"Oh, there's that Wu-Fu thingy in the Prince's bedroom.”
On the World Tree, I'd never seen someone's jaw fall open in the way that Fox's did. Then Fox stabbed his finger at Lysander like it was a blade. "The larder of treats and silk uniforms I can live with, but your private access to computers...? That's one entitled privilege too far."
"One is deeply apologetic," Lysander said with dripping sarcasm.
Odin’s cock, I hoped that it’d choke him.
"Must it be dirty?" Willoughby asked.
Magenta arched her brow. "Certainly not. It's your choice."
Willoughby nodded.
The Princes could never turn down a contest. They were walking straight into a trap, which would reveal their secrets and fears. Yet they were willing participants.
Loki had trained me to be a formidable hunter.
"We take it in turns to ask either a Truth or Dare,” I explained. “You can refuse to answer the Truth but then you have to take a Dare. If you don't, then you lose the whole game and remember, the stakes are the honor to start the Dragon Polo Tournament.”
"I understand," Lysander forced out.
Yet his hands twitched on his knees, almost like he was eager to begin. His gaze was fixed intently on Magenta.
"Hey, Serenity," I called, "how about you pick who plays at random. So, no cheating. Pink for the name of the player who sets the Truth or Dare. Black for the player who has to take on the challenge."
"Do I have to point out that every one of your heartbeats are elevated?" Serenity chided. "How about taking off your clothes and taking a long, hot, soapy shower together, instead? Or a cold one...that'll reduce the tension in this room."
"Just play the game and don't pick my name every time."
Silence.
"Serenity..."
"Carry on you, of course not."
"I'm serious."
"Fine."
"Serious as Ragnarok."
"Meanie," Serenity sulked.
LYSANDER blazed across the walls in neon pink.
Lysander perked up. "Perhaps, I shall grow to like this game."
Then SEIPNIR flashed in black.
“Perhaps, I won’t,” I muttered.
"I didn't pick you first..." Serenity said, slyly.
Lysander was studying me like he couldn't decide if I was the best gift that he'd ever received or a bug for him to dissect.
Then his expression hardened, as his gaze flicked to Magenta. "Truth: What's something that you're afraid to tell Magenta?"
My mind blanked.
So, that's how the hunter became the hunted.
My pulse thundered in my ears. My mind was overloaded with one word: monster, monster, monster...
I opened my lips to say it, but nothing came out.
When had I started shaking?
Suddenly, cool fingers closed around mine, squeezing.
"He'll take the Dare." Magenta's voice was tight.
I nodded.
I raised my gaze to meet Lysander's, straightening my shoulders. I wouldn't let him know how he'd wrecked me. Still, I'd wanted secrets revealed.
Karma loved to kick me in the ass.
Lysander's eyes were wide, and he studied how my hand was linked with Magenta's, as he swallowed. "If I played the game wrong..." He whispered.
"I believe that you picked just the right way to play it," Magenta replied, sharply.
Lysander's wings beat, agitatedly. "As you're too coward to answer, I get to set a Dare, which should be dirty. One doesn't wish to disappoint." His eyes gleamed with malevolence. "Dirty talk to your hand."
Asshole.
Yet Bask wriggled sexily, blowing a kiss across the circle to a startled Lysander. "Slippy's dirty talk is a fine thing. I'm claiming you as an honorary incubus."
Lysander blanched. Now that was how to insult a fae prince.
Did he think that it'd be humiliating (or even a challenge), for the son of Loki to use his talented tongue for...anything?
I grinned. This would be fun.
I pulled my hand away from Magenta's, holding it up in front of me and catching Lysander's gaze. I forced him not to look away, as I pinched my thumb and finger together to create a hole.
If he wanted me to dirty talk to my hand, then I'd also make love to it, and at the same time, him.
"You'll forget your name, after I'm done screwing you," I growled, low and seductive. Lysander shivered, curling his arms around himself. "I'm going to ruin your hole." I slowly extended the finger on my opposite hand, moving it towards the hole like it was my prick. After all, he'd wanted dirty. I edged my finger in, catching it around the rim. "Valhalla! You're so tight. That's it, clench...work for it." Lysander's eyes were glassy and blown wide. I pushed my finger in and out, in and out. "I love it when you ride me like this. You were made to take my dick. Tell me how much you love feeling me pulse inside you." Lysander gasped. It was my dare, but he was imagining it. He was right there, caught in the fantasy. "Beg me to come." My own breathing was ragged; my balls ached. I was caught with him. "You look so sexy. I want you to come for me now, hard."