"It's a sex game." Lysander became unnaturally still. "You lured us here for a kinky sex club. My guardian warned me about things like this."
Fox barked with laughter.
Why hadn't we thought of a kinky sex club? That would've been brilliant.
Lysander scrambled backwards towards the tunnel. Sleipnir sighed, diving across to snatch Lysander around the middle and drag him back, holding him down by the neck and pressing him to the floor.
My balls ached at the sight (traitor balls).
I noticed that Willoughby hadn't attempted to escape our clutches. In fact, his gaze was fixed longingly on Magenta, when he thought that we were all watching his fellow Prince being dominated by Sleipnir.
"Of course it was...kinky...in the harem." My grin widened. "But Magenta boringly has more morals than me and has insisted—"
"No touching," Fox explained, far more gently than I'd been expecting. "Except between those of us who are all into the touching."
He winked at me.
Sleipnir eased off Lysander, who slowly pushed himself back up to his knees, smoothing out his hair like he hadn't just been wrestling on the floor with an Immortal.
"And the moment that you say stop...it all stops." Sleipnir's expression was more serious than I'd ever seen it.
"Says the oaf who's just been pinning me to the floor," Lysander muttered.
Sleipnir's eyes flashed. "Valhalla! It's kind of like the game hasn't started yet..."
Sleipnir shuffled out of the circle, and Mist leaped out of his pocket. His eight legs splayed, before he scrambled with a whinny and a snort to the center of the circle like he was claiming the role of the referee.
Lysander narrowed his eyes. "But if you say stop, then you lose."
The stubborn fae would never say stop.
Sudden memories of being in the harem flooded over me. I pressed my nails into my palms.
Stop, stop, stop...
But they'd never stopped.
I couldn't play this, if Lysander held those same screams within his head, refusing to say the word. My sexy self wasn't the same as the bonded who'd hazed me.
I crawled across the circle, holding out my hand to Lysander. He stared at it in shock for a moment, before taking it. Then I yanked him into the middle of the circle.
"Would you wish one chance to say stop without losing? It needs to be said twice by one team to count as a loss."
Lysander nodded, uncertainly.
"And you're first, prince," I whispered.
Did it make me a bad incubus that I loved how he jumped?
"Why must my royal personage be first?" Lysander demanded.
Mist snorted fiery sparks at him in protest and pawed the floor.
My teeth glinted in the eerie light of Magenta's magic. "New rule: the player who's selected must sit silently and still or they also lose. If you wish, you can say stop at any time."
"I do not have fae dementia." Lysander curled his wings around himself like that would protect him from attack.
Never underestimate an incubus.
Fox glanced at his watch. "One minute...starting...now..."
Lysander's eyes were emerald pools. I watched his alabaster throat as he swallowed, struggling to stay still. Then I deliberately and never taking my gaze from his, sucked my thumb (sucking, see?), while he blinked at me in confusion.
Then I brought my thumb towards his ear. I expected a screech of stop, but Lysander only wrinkled his nose in distaste. I swiped my thumb just above his lips, and his gaze threatened revenge.
And not the fun sort.
I snickered, before drumming my fingers on my knee (always out of rhythm because I wasn't an amateur).
Lysander's cheek twitched.
I was getting to him.
I leaned closer, until my breath ghosted across his throat.
Technically, I wasn't touching.
He bit his lip but didn't move.
It was part of incubi training, however, to always be prepared. I'm sure that it included kinky games. Seriously, it'd be in the bonus material. Look it up.
So, now I'd bring out the big guns. Lysander's eyes widened in fear at the predatory smile that curled my lips. Then I burst into a wild...off-key...version of the Spice Girls' "Wannabe" with added Girl Power attitude.
This time, Lysander's eye twitched.
I slung my arms around Sleipnir's neck, before throwing a kiss to Fox, who groaned but still dramatically caught it. After all, as the song preached, if Lysander wanted a piece of my pettable arse, then he had to become friends with my lovers. Well, that was my take away message.
Nobody could survive a combination of the Spice Girls and my slinky self.
Lysander opened his mouth as if to protest but stopped himself in time. Magenta shot me her best you're a scheming incubus but with that pettable arse I'd let you off anything look.
Away with you, that was what it meant.
I wriggled around to straddle Magenta, as she teasingly undid my shirt. I slid my hand down my chest to tweak at my own nipples (there was nothing in the rules about touching myself), and writhed up and down like a snake in a lap dance. Her hands rested lightly on my hips.
Fox glanced at his watch. "Ten seconds."
I had to win this for my incubus pride.
Magenta was flushed, and her eyes were glassy. When I glanced over my shoulder at Lysander, just gearing up for the rap section of "Wannabe" (it was going to be fierce), I was shocked that Lysander's eyes were glassy too. His hands were clamped over his knees, and his knuckles were white like he was desperate to move. Yet I didn't know if he was struggling not to grab hold of my sexy arse or Magenta's.
I'd bet that it was both.
Fox bounced onto his knees in excitement. "Five, four, three, two..."
"Stop, damn you," Lysander hissed.
His hands shot to cover his lap in the universal and time-honored hiding your hard-on position.
My mouth snapped shut.
Sleipnir breathed out in relief. "Thank the Valkyries." When I arched my brow dangerously at him, he swallowed. "Hey, I just meant that you've spoiled us enough."
I preened. I was one generous incubus and I'd won the Stop Game for the Immortals. At the same time, I'd cracked open Lysander's mask.
Girl Power was powerful.
Yet I was shocked by the malevolence of Lysander's grin. "My turn, I believe."
Here's the thing, my time at the Succubus Court had taught me that a wounded rival was a deadly one. Never whip your enemy bloody and then pass them the whip. Unless you were playing a kinky sex game.
"Not a chance," my voice was hard. "Didn't I mention that if you stop, then you don't get to choose the next player?"
Lysander slumped against the wall, curling his wings around himself to hide his condition. "It must've slipped your musically challenged mind."
Lysander arched his brow, casting a significant glance at Willoughby and then me.
Yep, no attempt to influence his fellow Prince at all.
Willoughby's gaze darted between Magenta and me. I knew which of us he wanted to choose.
Yet I didn't think that it was only out of fear or respect for Lysander that he shuffled towards me. Only an elven prince could manage to make a shuffle look elegant.