Page 11 of Rumpelstilzchen

Boy hesitated, and the quiet and displeased click of the man’s tongue came only a moment before his gloved hand wrapped around Boy’s own, and the cold glass was pressed into his palm. “You said you were thirsty.”

The rim of the glass against his lips filled his nose with the scent of late-season apples and potent alcohol. Warm and sweet, the drink reminded him of the apple cider moonshine his family made, but his reminiscence was cut short when the geist selected another large and ripe strawberry from the pile on the table beside him.

An unspoken reward? A silent promise? Enthused, Boy tipped the glass further. He swallowed rapidly against the invasion, but it was too much, and his mouth flooded. Some went the wrong way. Tears formed in his eyes, and he coughed and spluttered.

As Boy fought to regain his composure—chest heaving, and face and linen tunic soaked through with what he recognised belatedly as apple brandy—a firm pat landed between his shoulder blades. Once, twice, three times, before the Queen’s Shadow sat back in his chair, dark eyes intently focused on Boy, who lowered his in favour of the large silver buckles on the riding boots.

“Look at me.” The demand sent a jolt of something through Boy’s body. He wiped over his eyes with the back of his free hand and struggled to suppress a cough, but complied nonetheless.

The geist took the now-empty glass from Boy, and offered up the tasty fruit once more.

With uncertain fingers, Boy reached out to take it. The man closed a careful fist around the strawberry, and Boy took a sharp inhale. He didn’t want it to be damaged—and he had earned his reward. He wanted to bite into its firm flesh and chew it.

A wicked smirk tugged at the corners of the man’s mouth, as if he could see Boy’s thoughts as plain as day. “Put your hands behind your back.”

Quick to obey, Boy did as commanded.

A growl of deep-seated pleasure rumbled through the air between them, and the shadows stroked through his hair as if petting him, much as Boy used to do to the cat that ate the field mice he found in their family’s mill. No other human—or geist—had ever touched him this way before. He liked it more than he probably should, and leaned into the touch.

The strawberry was brought to Boy’s lips, where the Queen’s Shadow teased him with it. He rubbed the fruit first along his top lip, pausing briefly at his Cupid’s bow, before he dragged it along his bottom lip. It took every ounce of willpower that Boy possessed not to open his mouth and chomp at the excessively large fruit. Luckily, his obscure need to please this shadow geist was the stronger force, and he resisted.

The strain of doing so, however, built inside him as a cramping need that spilled from his mouth as a breathy moan, and the Queen’s Shadow stilled.

The air between them charged.

Those dark eyes swirled with unbridled lust, and the shadows that caressed him slipped down inside the neck of his brandy-soaked tunic. Claiming. Possessive.

“Do you want this?” The words, quietly spoken, carried such a solemn weight that Boy was sure he hadn’t fully understood the depths of them.

But he wasn’t naïve. He was under no illusion. The geist could simply do, or take, whatever he wanted. The fact that the Queen’s Shadow had even thought to ask for Boy’s consent, as if his willing compliance in whatever this was between them was important, stood out as earnest. So did it really matter if Boy hadn’t understood? Especially when the glossy red strawberry was right there, not two finger depths from his mouth. And did he want that? Yes, more than he’d ever wanted anything—he wanted that.

“Y-yes,” Boy said on an exhale, and the shadows seemed to breathe out their relief alongside him.

Boy wasn’t sure if he imagined it when the cell grew darker and the air thicker, because his entire focus was on the strawberry. He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. Had he ever smelled anything so appealing?

On his knees, between the shadow geist’s legs with his eyes closed, Boy opened his mouth. He lacked the presence of mind to imagine how this might look. Instead, he undulated his tongue as he searched out his reward, and moaned in delight when the very tip brushed over the glossy fruit.

“Good boy.” The words were a strained whisper.

Bolstered by the praise, he kept his tongue still as the strawberry brushed up and down its length. He didn’t want to risk being denied the invitation to close his mouth around it. Didn’t want to miss when he could finally sink his teeth into the flesh and swallow it whole. It seemed important to the Queen’s Shadow that he was in control, yet it was equally important to Boy that he comply.

Up and down the strawberry tickled, and Boy squirmed on his heels. This was hard, but he could do it. He knew he could.

Boy cracked open one eye and what he saw made him swallow and squirm some more. Unadulterated want burned hot in the black eyes that stared back at him.

Cautiously, he curled his tongue and laved at the fruit, then tentatively closed his lips over the end. The growl that rumbled through the cell made the stone walls tremor, and a surge of unexpected satisfaction powered Boy’s next move.

Gratuitously, he stretched his lips wide, and the strawberry sank deep into his mouth until only the green stalk and the leather fingers that held it remained pressed against his lips.

The string of saliva that connected them glistened perversely in the weak lamplight, and Boy wiggled on his heels as he sought friction.

Without a word, the Queen’s Shadow stood. Boy tilted his head back when the geist’s thighs brushed over his nose with the proximity, and he sucked in a breath—one that tasted sweet yet corrupt. His body tingled with a sudden rush of overwhelming excitement.

Ensconced in the heady mix of strawberry juice, smoke, leather, and want, Boy’s mouth filled with saliva, but the delicate brace of his teeth on the strawberry made it hard to swallow.

With one gloved hand clasped over the large buckle of his breeches, the gloved fingers of the geist’s other hand moved from Boy’s hair to his cheek, and Boy itched to touch the man back. Boy could barely tell where he ended and the Queen’s Shadow started, but it didn’t matter—in that moment, nothing else existed.

The flame of the lamp spluttered before finally succumbing to its fate, and it left Boy in complete darkness with no way of seeing. A strong curl of smoke singed the air, and he knew immediately it was from the extinguished wick—its fragrance more sharp in comparison to that of the geist.