Page 150 of The Fallen Fae King

There is something about handfeeding my Omega, which calls to my Alpha instincts.

Also, makes my cock harden.

I shift, fixated on Freya’s soft lips, as she licks over them. I hurriedly stir the stew and then lift another spoonful to Freya’s lips. She must know what she is doing because she gives me a half-hooded look, before she slowly…agonizingly slowly…licks the stew off the spoon.

Then she grinds back on my lap, rubbing over my cock.

I groan.

Freya gives a triumphant grin. Then she opens her mouth with an expectant look.

“Is it wise to torment the cook?” I struggle to say, as she pretends to innocently squirm around on my lap like she is simply making herself more comfortable.

In reality, Freya is deliberately working my cock with her curvy arse.

I can’t stop myself gripping her hip, while continuing to feed her and humping up against her.

My heart speeds up.

I pant.

When my spoon hits the bottom of the bowl, I blink in confusion for a moment.

Then Freya says brightly, as if she’s not affected by our game at all, “All finished.”

She pushes herself off my lap back onto the bench.

I drop the spoon, staring at her in shock. “Not really finished, love.”

I point at my throbbing cock that is tenting my pants.

Freya smirks, tearing off a hunk of bread and passing it to me. “How sad. Here, don’t go hungry.”

“Who taught you to be this ruthless?”

When she strokes down my wing, I melt against her side. “You.”

“Fair point.”

We share a small, secret smile.

My perfect bond mate.

I munch on the coarse loaf, suddenly ravenous. We’re only fed twice a day, and it’s been a long time since the porridge that I ate for breakfast.

When something furry winds around my ankles, I glance down at Five. “Begging again?”

Five narrows her eyes, lashing her tail, as if in outrage that she would ever beg.

“I mean, demanding tribute, aye?” I salute her.

Then I grab a small piece of cheese, which is my cat’s favorite treat, and drop it onto the floor in front of her.

“You spoil her.” Freya grabs an apple. “She has you wrapped around her paw.”

“She’s loyal. I look after my friends.”

Suddenly, sitting at this table in the quiet of the evening with my Omega and my cat, I sense a type of domestic contentment that makes me uneasy because I never thought that I would experience it.