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Psycho Fae: Chapter 32

SADIE - HOODS & OTHER CONCERNS

“Hello, my name is Sadie,” I said through my hood as I squirmed on the wooden chair. It seemed rude to have sex with someone without first introducing yourself.

Silence.

My breath was too loud under the dark cloth as I waited for my fae lover to take it off and make sweet love to me.

I tapped my foot as the silence continued.

My heartbeat was heavy in my chest, and I bit down on my lip as my skin crawled.

I was defenseless in a random room with a random fae man, and he was just standing there saying nothing.

This was not how I’d imagined losing my virginity.

I honestly hadn’t really thought about the moment, but if I had, sitting in a wooden chair with a bag over my head while my random fae partner said nothing would not be the vibe I would choose for myself.

Impatience set in. “Um, I hate to rush things, but I am getting tired, so could we get on with it?” I clapped my hands to punctuate my point, and the loud noise echoed weirdly through the hood.

I did not just clap my hands about hurrying up sex.

Thank the sun god my face was covered, because my cheeks burned with heat.

Why was I like this?

Suddenly, I shivered as something cold and hard dragged across my collarbone.

Cool air pricked my chest, and my nipples hardened.

A breeze blew against my exposed torso.

The fae had just cut the thin straps off my dress.

I reached forward to cover my breasts, but hands grabbed my wrists. Before I could process what was happening, there was a loud clack, and I couldn’t move my hands.

The bastard had trapped both my wrists behind my back.

He’d cuffed me to the chair.

The cold metal bit into my wrists, but it didn’t budge an inch, no matter how hard I pulled.

“Are you going to kill me?” I blurted out as I reached for the numb. No way in hell was I fucking dying by some sick pervert’s hand.

“No,” a distorted voice said through my hood.

I pursed my lips, stopped struggling, and debated whether I should believe him or fight for my life.

If I spun, I could slam the legs of the chair into his body.

I forced myself to relax—which was hard because my breasts were fully on display, with cool air blowing against my sensitive nipples—and decided to give the fae the benefit of the doubt.

Also, I wasn’t going to lie: a tiny part of me was kind of into the whole tie-’em-up experience.

Even though I would never admit it aloud, I was a sucker for a man in charge. Once again, mental health was not my strength.

“Open your legs.”

Before I could think about talking back or fighting him, my legs parted as if of their own accord.

With my dress cut, breasts exposed, hands tied behind my back, and a hood over my head, I waited to see what the fae man would do.

Warm, callused fingers softly grazed across both my nipples.

In the complete darkness, the sensation was heightened tenfold, and I bucked against his touch. I didn’t know if I wanted more or less.

My pussy spasmed.

Suddenly, the fingers pinched down, and a spike of pure pleasure shot through my core.

I moaned loudly as sparks flashed in my eyes, and I panted under the hood.

Ever so slowly, the fingers trailed down my breasts, across my stomach, to the apex of my thighs.

I parted my legs wider and leaned back, silently begging the fae to do something about the arousal pooling between my legs.

“I’m going to fuck you,” the fae said casually.

It wasn’t a question.

More arousal pooled, and I lifted my hips slightly as the cold wood of the chair bit into my exposed flesh.

Every cell in my body was hypersensitive with arousal.

Suddenly, he pushed a hard object against my clit. It was smooth as he ground it against my core.

“You don’t get my cock. You’ll get a toy.”

My lust-filled brain stuttered, and I opened my mouth to protest, because what the hell?

I was literally at a sex clinic.

I thought his dick was the point?

However, before I could voice my opinions, the hard object against my legs began to burn hot, then flash ice-cold.

My brain stuttered as the changing temperatures overstimulated my clit.

Then his callused fingertips pulled at my nipples at the same time the object flashed cold against my clit.

Holy tits—between the sparkly juice and whatever object was between my legs, the fae were really getting creative with their enchantments.

Good for them.

My body flushed as the fae pushed the object harder against my core and pulled at my sensitive nipples.

Sensations escalated, and I tipped my hooded head back against the edge of the chair.

My legs trembled, and I spread them wider.

Three things happened at once: (1) the fingers around my nipple tugged hard, (2) soft lips pressed against my neck before hard teeth dragged across the sensitive skin, and (3) the object between my legs began to vibrate.

It didn’t just vibrate.

The toy sucked on my clit while vibrating at the same time.

Holy sun god. It was everything.

I moaned as the fae pressed the toy harder against my clit. At the same time, he slowly scraped his teeth down the delicate skin of my neck.

Sparks flashed behind my eyes, and my hips bucked.

I moaned loudly as I got closer to the edge, the overstimulation throwing my body toward an orgasm.

My vagina clenched, and I leaned back further. The cold metal kept me bound to the chair.

I started to hurtle off the cliff.

The fae stopped.

All the tension that had been building through my body suddenly dissipated in a languished puff.

“What the actual fuck?” My voice sounded too loud in my ears as both of us panted heavily.

I waited for his response as my arousal wet the inside of my thighs.

Before I could scream with frustration or kick the chair beneath me and murder the fae fucker, the sucking vibration started up again.

My heart beat heavy in my chest with excitement.

I tilted my head back and lost myself to the sensations, ready to hurtle over the edge.

A few moments later, I was one second away from orgasm, and the buzzing stopped. The mouth that had been sucking on my nipples also stopped.

“Oh, you motherfuck—”

A moan escaped my throat as the vibrations started up again.

I was not proud of what happened over the course of the next hour.

The absolute asshole of a fae brought me to the edge of orgasm over, and over, and over, and over again.

Only to stop.

I held myself completely still and tried to mask my reactions.

Somehow, he recognized every time and stopped when I was one second from hurtling over the edge.

In my desperation to come, I called the fae every name in the book and threatened him with bodily harm.

“I’m gonna strangle you with your intestines if you don’t finish me right now, you bastar—”

Once again, I was cut off by the pulsating temperatures and vibrations that rocked my clit into another dimension.

After what felt like a lifetime of pain, I was panting heavily, and my arousal dripped down my calves onto the floor.

I vibrated with tension.

“Please stop,” I whispered as I lolled my head back and debated the merits of bursting into tears.

My vagina began to vibrate, and I sobbed loudly.

Then, unlike the times before where the fae had tortured me mercilessly, there was a loud smack, and the vibrations stopped.

“I was going to let her come this time,” a distorted voice said.

A second distorted voice responded, “I didn’t know that she was fucking crying. What was I supposed to do?”

I whipped my cloaked head back and forth as I desperately tried to kick my heels out and free my hands.

I wasn’t alone with just one fae.

There were two men in the room. This was not what I had signed up for.

I screamed, “Please don’t suck my elbow; I don’t want it.”

Admittedly, I was feeling a tad overwhelmed after almost orgasming fifty times, so that explained my momentary elbow panic.

Tears streamed down my face, and I struggled to free myself from my chair. This was the worst ho phase ever. I was not feeling hot, sexy, or empoweringly slutty.

I felt sad, overwhelmed, and horny.

Not in a good way.

Abruptly, the hood was pulled off my head and my hideous, sobbing face was exposed to the fresh air.

For a long moment, my brain refused to process what I was seeing because it was shocking.

It didn’t help that the world still sparkled with glitter.

I almost asked for the hood back.

Everyone in the room stood frozen.

Plural.

All four men stared at me.

The four men I knew very well because I lived and fought alongside them every day.

Jax was standing in front of me, holding a vibrating oval in his large, callused hand.

Ascher was reaching for it, his flame-and-rose tattoos bunched as he was shoving Jax away from me.

Cobra stood beside me—with his thick jeweled dick in his hand.

He was the only one moving, his fist stroking up and down and covered in his own precum. Unbothered by the tension that had just ratcheted up in the room.

Xerxes stood next to me, his purple eyes flashing with tenderness as he held the hood in his hands.

“I told the alphas not to do it,” Xerxes whispered down to me as he gripped the hood in his hands and glared at the alphas. “Do you need anything?” he asked.

My mouth gaped open as I stared at his purple eyes.

Did I need anything?

I needed to (1) orgasm, (2) kill all the men, and (3) relax in a bubble bath with a book for the next two years of my life.

There were so many things wrong with this situation, my brain stuttered as it struggled to process what was happening.

It didn’t help that without the cloth over my head, the scents in the room smacked me in the face like an avalanche.

I drowned in them.

Frosty ice made my tongue prickle like I was catching snowflakes.

The cold contrasted with the heady scent of warm chestnuts mixed with sugary cinnamon. Wrapped up in it all, balsam and coniferous pines added musky notes.

I breathed in the rich scent, and my mouth watered with need.

The good thing—the sparkly juice still worked, and the men shimmered with a gorgeous glitter.

The bad thing—Jax, my sweet, kind alpha, had just brought me to the edge of orgasm a million times with the other three men watching, and he hadn’t let me come.

Suddenly, I became hyperconscious of the fact that my dress was cut and hanging off my body.

I opened my mouth to speak, but coughed a few times to clear my rough throat.

“Give me the vibrator,” I said to Jax. I death glared at him.

“No,” he had the audacity to say as he glared back. He tugged at his braids, and his eyes flashed like he couldn’t decide if he was remorseful or angry.

Beside him, Ascher ran his tattooed hand roughly over his horns, and a small omega whine escaped Xerxes’s throat.

I held my hand out to Jax and alpha-barked, “Give it to me!”

If I didn’t get that vibrator on my clit in the next five seconds, I was going to murder the men. They were lucky the queen had reinstated the shifting ban; otherwise, they would already be saber-toothed tiger food.

Jax’s gray eyes sparked with flames, and his chest rumbled. “You got what you deserved, little alpha.”

I sputtered.

He’d just tortured me sexually for an hour and thought, somehow, I deserved it?

Someone needed to call the fae queen and light my overly stimulated clit on fire because he was talking out of the sun god’s ass.

My ass was still sitting in a puddle of my arousal with my wrists handcuffed to the chair behind me.

Jax’s face was tight. He clenched his jaw and glared at me.

I tried a different tactic.

My bottom lip quivered as tears gathered in my eyes, and I hunched my shoulders forward dejectedly. I was so frustrated that it was easy to make myself cry.

I asked in a quiet, sad voice, “How could you do this to me?”

The fire in Jax’s gray eyes immediately disappeared, and panic contorted his features. He took a step forward, like he was going to help me.

Next to Jax, Ascher also stepped forward, with his hands clenched into fists and worry in his amber eyes.

The flames tattooed across his jaw rippled as his muscle ticked, and his horns straightened.

Xerxes reached forward and gently dragged his hand across my hair as he omega-whined. His sugary cinnamon scent spiked with sweetness like his pheromones were trying to comfort me.

“Oh, fucking please, I know you’re faking it, Kitten,” Cobra said as he continued to jack off.

I was going to murder the bastard.


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