Before I can say another word, the troll disappears into the throng. The male in front of me cocks his head to the side, black eyes trailing down my neck and chest as he licks his lower lip, biting it as if he’s holding back.

​

He’s striking, not as tall as the troll but still a head and a half taller than me. Broad, muscular shoulders taper to a trim waist, thick thighs flaring out from there. There’s an obvious, enormous bulge at the front of his paints, unmistakable, really. The pointed slant of his ears tell me he’s fae, but of what sort I’m not sure. Autumn Court, perhaps, given his dark head of hair. He’s dressed plainly enough but he could be anyone.

​

Given that my grandmother never told me more than cursory information about the underground city, I am woefully ill-equipped to make it here. Oh goddess, what have I gotten myself into? I’ve managed to avoid the supernatural world below the bridge my entire life, but the troll’s magic is irrefutable. Without paying his fare, I’ll never be able to return topside.

Do I even want to, though?

​

I’m stuck here forever, or until this fae is done with me.

​

“Well,” I begin in what I hope is a confident, don’t-fuck-with-me tone, “what now?”

​

Obsidian eyes spark as he hooks both thumbs in his pants, which draws them slightly down. I don’t miss the patch of hair that now peeks out at me, or the way his cock presses harder against the fabric of his pants.

​

“I require company for several days,” he murmurs. “You are that company, assuming you agree.”

​

I gulp as he steps closer, the scent of worn leather and male musk filling my nostrils. He reaches his hand around my waist, pulling me up against his obvious erection as he grinds his hips once, twice, then a third time. He’s impossibly huge. It’ll never fit.

​

“I’m not a gentle lover,” he rasps in my ear, his lips tickling my skin. “But I promise you’ll enjoy every moment, pretty girl.” 

He lets out a low, needy growl as my head falls against his cheek. My lips pop open as a zing shoots straight between my thighs. I’ve been with a man, but it was so brief, so dissatisfying, I’ve never done it since.

​

The fae drags his nose down the side of my neck, inhaling as his hand comes to my ass and squeezes. “Gods above you smell divine. I need my mouth on you, witch.”

​

A shudder wracks my curvy frame as he groans again in my ear, the noise low and needy. Perhaps paying with my body will not be as horrible as I imagine it could be. He promises pleasure, and by the way he’s whispering in my ear, I think he’s likely capable of delivering it.

​

“I agree.”

​

I barely realize I’ve said the words until they’re out of my mouth. But I need that money. Maybe not to return to the human world, but to have the freedom to explore this one. And more than that, there’s a pull deep in my belly that responds so naturally to him. 

​

“Come,” he commands, threading his fingers through mine as he tugs me up the street. It’s then I get my first look at the troll market, and it is a wonder. Brightly colored stalls line the street, wares spilling out of every window, every nook, every cranny, all the way up many stories to the stone ceiling above us. This place is amazing, and at another time, I would like to explore it.

 

But not right now. Because right now, a very muscular fae male with salt and pepper hair is dragging me up the path with increasing speed. I jog to keep up with him, even as I resist the urge to plant both feet and tell him to slow down. They finally plant themselves as I hear a grunt and turn, tripping over an exposed cobblestone and going down hard.

​

I scream at the renewed pressure on my previously dislocated elbow, and the fae male turns with a grimace, picking me up carefully. His pupils are fully dilated, his breath a series of quick, sharp pants as he rights me, looking at my shoulder when I rub carefully at it.

​

“What’s wrong? Did that troll hurt you?” He glances around, as if the offending troll might be nearby and about to receive an ass-beating.

​

A seductive lowing noise breaks the fae’s concentration, his gaze darting to the left. 

​

Mine follows, and what I see pulls a surprised noise out of me.

​

To my right, an open pen holds several giant centaurs, their horse-like bodies visible below humanoid torsos. But they’re not standing around. In fact, one of the males is mounting a writhing woman, strapped to a giant wooden body in the shape of a female centaur. The other two appear to be in various stages of preparing their women for the same treatment.

​

Seeing such things right there in the middle of the market has heat swirling low in my belly and I clench my thighs against the intrusion. Behind me, the fae male lets out a desperate noise, breathing hard against my neck.

​

I gasp as the first centaur pulls his cock from the woman’s sweaty figure, and it hangs several feet down toward the ground, leaking cum profusely from a pointed, swollen pink tip. All around the pen, monsters stand in various states of undress. I jolt when I realize the minotaur male next to me is jacking himself off while watching the centaurs, his balls pulled tightly up as he fists himself with both hands. When he sees me looking, he lows quietly, red eyes narrowing on me.

​

I’m frozen by the sheer debauchery on display here, until rough lips come to my ear for a second time today.

 

“You look enthralled, sweet girl. Let’s have a closer look, shall we?”

​