His smirk rattles my heart. “I'm as shocked as you are by my choice of wording, but yes. I feel tasting you will become an addiction of mine. I'll start tonight while you're too sore to take my cock. How does that sound?”
I lower my hand and smile. “Lovely.”
“Show your king where you want his tongue.”
What? My cheeks burn from pink to red.
I lean past him again and deduce that, as I cannot see the others, they cannot see me.
“Do as you’re told.”
With my heart thumping, my fingers trembling, and my core a warm pool of desire, I lift my dress to cup myself over my knickers. “Here, my king.”
His eyes lick over me, darkening in an instant. “You know I need my cum inside you,” he states, his deep timbre, bottomless and dangerous, rumbling behind a bar of teeth that cage his needy bite.
I press harder between my thighs; the lovely pressure squeezes a whimper from me. “Yes.”
His tongue runs along his lower lip, while his eyes scream his intent. “I'll put it there with my fingers tonight, nice and deep between your swollen folds. That is a kindness. But tomorrow, you will take me again.”
“I understand.”
He leans down and lifts the beasts from the grass as though they weigh no more than the white flowers they have crushed. “Behave.”
As Rome strides from the courtyard, Odio takes to the air, leaving me alone, pressed to the wall while the others huddle together in shock.
Chapter Seventeen
Aster
There is no denying his effect over me. My body wakes way before my mind, warmth flooding my core, my back arching into a greedy mouth, and I’m dreaming, but then…
I’m not.
Batting my lashes open to the back of the veil, a meshed vision greets me at the same time as my consciousness.
He is here.
Between my legs.
I reach down and grip his dark hair, curling my fingers in as his tongue licks up the side of my thigh.
“What happened here,” he asks, a tone as rough as the words spoken. “How, rather, when you’re kept so safe.”
He means the little scars from the branch.
I don’t want to think about Iris.
Not while his breath strokes my skin to prickles of attention, not while his lips approach my core, while the incline of his dangerous kiss arouses me to a wet, wanting mess. I don’t want to answer, but I do. “I don’t remember.”
Condemning my Silk Wardeness further for her carelessness with Iris and me. Had she been a Sired Mother, and Iris and I, babes instead of Silk Girls, and they were injured under her watch, would I feel as angry and vengeful as Rome. I don’t know.
His hand traces my leg, from ankle to the back of my knee, a strangely erogenous sensation. This, paired with his tongue as it climbs, causes me to squirm underneath his body. I feel so small whenever he is near, not just physically, but his presence is vast and concrete.
His tongue laps at my folds the way I like, and he hums to show his enjoyment matches my own.
“So swollen,” he utters—two words dark with delight.
After a few moments of gentle attention, he crawls over me, his tongue painting a trail up my trembling stomach, between my breasts. He settles his forearms on either side of my face. He slides the veil down, our eyes meeting.
I shrink a little.
He is a predator ready to devour willing prey.
I gaze down the long, hard length of him.
He is naked and stunning. The light from the artificial fire illuminates the bulges and darkens the grooves that define each muscle. His chest tattoos are lightly dusted in hair that arrows down to the long length, hard and pulsing between his hips. It curves upward, like a forearm with a pink fist.
There is so much beast in him. All the parts are there hidden in what as a whole looks human and yet… doesn’t.
He is too large. Too scarred. Too muscular. Eyes pretty and blue yet set into stark features that express a need to dominate or destroy.
“Aster.” His lips meet mine.
We both hum, tongues tangling gently before greed and lust demand more pressure.
"My king.”
"I needed to taste these lips." His tongue, much longer and thicker than mine, licks my mouth on the outside.
"Why?" I pant.
"Because, little creature, I seem to breathe better when I can taste you,” he offers, his weight lowering to mine, reminding me that he is capable of ending my life without even trying to.
I cup the back of his thick neck, circling the muscles along his rising shoulders with my fingertips. "Did you know that when I do this... your groan rumbles in your muscles like you're purring."
"Does it?" He sounds amused. "And you think you have tamed me, sweet creature?"
"No.” I can hardly breathe now as he applies more pressure, as if his kind words are refuted by his own body. “I don't think that will ever happen.”
“Keep your eyes open,” he says into my mouth. “Watch. Look what your pretty body can do to your king.”
I don’t understand until he shifts and wraps his large hand around his… cock. That’s what he calls it. I think I like the word now; it’s not so crass. One syllable. With a punching sound. Cock. Like thrust, thud, fuck, pound. Cock.
Between our bodies, he strokes his fist from the root along the throbbing rod, to the crown, and rolls his palm over the slit a few times before dragging his hand back down.
It’s incredibly erotic.
Like in the picture.
“You may help me breathe deep, but I own you.” He groans. “All the ways I will take you. All the different positions I will bend your body into, all the ways I’ll move you, manhandle you. You will never stand a chance if I want you bent or spread, little creature. You’re mine.”
He pumps himself, squeezes upward toward the flushing tip, and then starts again. His abdomen contracts to the violent friction. Along his forearms, coils of veins lift his tattoos, pulsing his skin like his heartbeat is everywhere.
“Your womb is sacred,” he goes on, voice like gravel. “But your little body is mine to enjoy. And I’ll move you around wherever I want you, hold you, force you to take me.”
I can hear his teeth grit together, his heavy panting pummelling me. His arousal is palpable; I feel the tight agony inside him, twisting us both like rubber bands, like the building of a song or pirouette that gains in speed and intensity.
And then peaks.
On a low growl, he moves up the mattress, aligning his cock between my thighs. And I am pressed to his heaving chest, moaning, as the brunt of his fist beats against my core. He wrings his cum up from the base, shooting warm, white fluid over my pelvis, shuddering and groaning as he works every spurt from inside him.
Grabbing my throat, he drags me up the mattress so he can take my lips in a kiss that matches the intensity of this moment. Of seeing him unravel.
Leaning on one arm, holding his weight, he scoops the warm, wet fluid from the inside of my trembling legs. My knees fall open, shameless, needy. After that and the vitamins this first-light, I am almost feverish.
He pulls from our kiss and gazes at me through hooded eyes like spears that hold an animal in place. “Such a good little Silk Girl. Do you want my cum inside you? Want your stomach swollen, like your pussy?”
I moan, pressing my head back into the pillow when he slides a finger carefully between my puffy pussy lips. “There you go. Hmm. Very tight.” He continues, sliding out again to scoop more from my thigh before pushing gently back in.