Chapter Twenty Seven

Finley was walking on cloud nine, practically skipping across the quad, enjoying the sunny day and the weight of a fat billfold in his pocket.

Business was booming. Everyone was talking about Do-Me Dust, coeds were going ape-shit for the product, but he was still keeping a low profile. Only accepting referrals from trusted sources. Working through clandestine channels.

He didn’t deal directly anymore. No, that was far too risky now the campus fuzz was onto him.

Instead, he had exploited the Dust’s notoriety to engage the interest of several local suppliers who furnished small-time pot and party **** dealers, thus creating insulated layers of protection between him and the law.

Sure, his bottom line suffered, but output was at an all-time high, more than compensating for the additional overhead.

Aurelia, his Fae lover, was insatiable, and the sex was more than incredible. It was goddamn magical! There was no other word for it.

It didn’t matter how many times he fucked the irresistible nature spirit–and they’d been going at it like dogs in heat in every position imaginable–she’d coo and beguile Finley with whispered promises and a deft touch into further acts of sheet-soiling depravity.

He ought to be worn down to stub from all the action he’d been getting from the little nympho, but, if anything, he was hornier than ever.

Simply thinking about Aurelia, with her brilliant blonde curls cascading over a glamorous body built for sin barely covered by scanty black lingerie, was getting him hard as he climbed the stairs to his dorm. Her miles-long bronzed legs, those firm grabbable hips, that narrow waistline, and heavy suckable breasts…

“Yo Fin. Slow your roll for a sec, bruh. You clued in on the scuttlebutt about the graverobbers?”

Derek, from two rooms over, was propping up the corridor wall, a shit-eating grin on his acne-scarred face as he munched on a bag of Cheetos. Slowing his roll as requested, Finley wrested his impatience to quirk a curious brow at the guy.

“The what about who?”

“The archeology creeps, dude.” Derek was a fellow freshman who thought learning a cantrip that allowed him to shoot colorful sparks from his fingertips basically made him the next Merlin. “Some dickbag Prof was arrested by the po-po for theft and embezzlement. Bunch of ice-aged shit went missing from the university vault–or wherever they stash them goodies–and he’s copping the heat. Turns out he’d been scalping anything with a lick of juju to pad the ol’ nest. You feel me?”

“I… um, yeah. I think I feel you.” Finley hedged, scooching around him in an attempt to avoid the puffs of cheese-flavored powder. “Sucks to be him, I guess.”

“It gets worse. My girl Janice spilled the tea. She says they found traces of golden dust in the mess he made ransacking the dungeon they call a department. She heard from her gal pal Isabell, who’s in a study group with Jack, that guy hooking up with Miss Dunkirk’s niece, that he–the Prof, that is–was high as a kite on fairy dust when it all went down. The randy old coot. Can you believe that noise?”

“Consider me floored. What a horrible scandal. Throw the book at him, I say.”

“Totes!” More Cheetos met their end in the grinning buffoon’s masticating maw. “College life, am I right? Talk about a trip.”

“A hundo percent, man.” Finley agreed, unlocking his door and quickly slipping inside with a sigh of relief. “What a knucklebrain.”

“My hero has returned.” A lust-laden purr greeted him. “I’ve languished, wilting in your absence, Love. But now you are back, I crave to nurture yet more of your precious seed. Come hither, enrich my soil. Allow me to reward you for the boundless care and protection you afford me.”

Aurelia reclined on the cheap, single-occupancy bed like a queen upon her throne. The crown of flowers in her sunlight hair had blossomed into a floral wreath that spilled sparkly pollen everywhere.

The Fae’s exquisite face was the picture of hedonistic desire. Her plump lower lip sucked in, delicate hands roving that phenomenal pornstar figure, silky thighs spread invitingly, womanly nectar dribbling onto the rumpled bedding.

Finley unhooked his belt, cock twitching at the sight of her. Ignoring the thin layer of glittering dust that coated almost every surface of the cramped room, he disrobed faster than a quick-change artist. His insta-hard cock (much larger and thicker than it had been mere days ago) sprang free to thwap against his distinctly more defined abdominals like a billy club.

He would worry about silly rumors and college scandals later. First, he had a Fae sex goddess to satisfy.

End of Part Three.