His right butterfly wing spun through the air, fire burning at it. On his back was the seared stump of the wing oozing blood. He staggered to his feet... His head threw back as he plunged the light sword into the grass. Stalks sizzled.His blood boiled on my blade.“That's right. Faeries can't tolerate iron?” I drew a throwing knife in my off-hand. “And I have plenty of it.”He whirled around, face twisted in maddened pain, no longer beautiful. Shadows made deep crags, his eyes almost glowing in the. 'She stroked my face a moment, kissed me lightly, and then pulled away. I was a panting and eager slut when she brought the cock back to my mouth again. I don't know if it was the different texture, the moisture on the tip, or the slight musky odor, but as it rubbed across my lips I suddenly realized that this was not the rubber cock again. I reeled away in shock, pulling back as hard as I could against my restraints. How could this be? Who was this? Oh my God, how long had he been here?I was. More

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