The motions relaxed her as he rubbed her clit in a circular motion as he plunged
and strained behind her. He never made a sound.
She was suddenly climbing an edge she couldn’t comprehend, and it scared her,
too, but she didn’t fight him or struggle against him. She cried out when an
unbearable sensation suddenly burst through her, her body quivering under his as her
womanhood went liquid around his phallus.
Her hands gave out, and she collapsed on the bed, sobbing aloud, unable to control
herself. He kept his thrusts short and steady while the feeling washed over her
completely. He pulled away from her then, and she lay there, trying to catch her
breath, trying to understand what happened to her. There were no bones left in her
body.
Her eyes watched as he turned away from her. He never removed his clothes with
her. She had never seen his organ before, but she knew it was large and thick because
of the way it felt inside her.
Was it also his hatred for her that made him stay clothed with her?
“Who’s behind the door?” he groaned, lust and something akin to pain in his voice.
He didn’t raise his voice, but he never had to.
The door opened and Chad entered. “Mistress Vetta went into the village.”
His shoulders stiffened, drawing taut with tension.
“L-let me do it…w-with my mouth,” Danika whispered from the bed, her body
languid. Her cheeks flushed at her own words, but she didn’t take them back. Didn’t
want to.
She was feeling so sleepy, the events of the day finally catching up with her.
Danika knew instinctively that he didn’t find pleasure from what had just
happened. He liked it rougher and with a measure of pain attached. She didn’t know
why she knew, but she was almost certain of it.
He stared over his shoulders and said nothing. Instead, he became more tense, but
he never said a word to her.
Then he glanced forwards towards Chad. “Kneel.”
Chad’s knees hit the ground, and the king unbuckled himself. Chad took him deep
into his mouth. Just the way he’d taught her.
Danika could barely keep her eyes open. She feared that he’d tell her to leave,
because she wasn’t sure if her weak muscles could carry her.
It didn’t take long before he grunted out his pleasure and pulled out from Chad’s
hot mouth. He buckled himself up and stepped back.
As usual, he didn’t look like a man who just found his pleasure, his face as hard
and cold as always.
Chad watched the king as he turned and stared at the bed. King Lucien paused
when he saw Danika was asleep. Chad stiffened because he knew the king would
react badly to that. Lucien didn’t like anybody in his bed, in his personal space.
King Lucien had more demons to fight than any of them.
No woman slept on that bed-not even Vetta, his mistress of five years.
Either the king would order him to throw her out, or he would bark at her angrily
and order her to get out.
It surprised Chad when King Lucien walked past him towards the bathroom.
“Wrap her up and take her to her room, Chad. Do not wake her,” he ordered in a low
growl.
Chad wrapped Danika like the king had ordered and carried her out of the room.
Danika slept exhaustedly in his arms while he carried her away from the king’s
quarters and down to the servant’s quarters.
He had just rounded the corner when he saw Vetta coming toward him. She took
one look at them, and her eyebrows shot up.
“What’s wrong with her?” she asked as she strode forward, her forehead knitted in
a frown.
“She had a session,” Chad answered simply.
A smile spread across Vetta’s face, and her heart lifted. She wanted the princess to
keep suffering for everything her family did to them. No amount of pain was enough.
“She passed out? Which session? The whip? Strip session? Crawl and torture?
Devil’s session? Which one?” She called the names the slaves had given to the torture
sessions over the years, barely able to curb her excitement.
“It wasn’t any of those, Mistress.”
That had Vetta frowning again. She inspected Danika, who was wrapped in a white
sheet, her face peaceful in sleep. She searched for bruises but couldn’t find any.
Surely, that white sheet was supposed to be stained with blood. Where was the blood?
Vetta placed her hand on the sheet, opening it a bit, but she only saw flawless white
skin. No bruises.
“She’s sleeping. The king gave instructions not to wake her,” he said politely.
Vetta clamped up. “Why would the king give instructions like that!?”
“I don’t know why the king does the things he does, Mistress Vetta.”
Vetta was practically spitting fire, trying to figure out what was going on. “The
king took sexual pleasures from her?”
Chad nodded reluctantly.
“Who finished for him? Her!?” She tensed up.
“I did.”
Vetta relaxed a bit. Better Chad than this horrid slave. The king did not care for
men in a carnal way. She and Chad knew this personally.
But some things just didn’t add up.
Vetta faced Chad again, staring at him defiantly, and he lowered his head in
respect for her. They were no longer slaves, and Chad was in a very senior position,
where everybody treated him with respect. The king’s personal guard was no small
position. But Vetta was still at the head. She was his mistress, and the king had no
queen yet, so she was definitely at the top. And she was going to be queen.
“So, if she served the king, why is she this way?” Vetta asked haughtily.
“The king rewarded her for being good,” he answered rather reluctantly and left it
at that.
Knowing Vetta, she’d pick it up soon. She did. Her eyes darkened in anger, sheer
disbelief, and confusion.
“He gave her pleasure?” She could barely get the word out of her tight throat.
Chad shrugged. “It was a pleasure session. She fell asleep on his bed.”
“Don’t give me that! You and I know that there’s no such session that is
pleasurable!” She narrowed her eyes. “How could he do something like that? After
everything we went through!?”
“I’m not entitled to know why the king does the things he does.”
His answer only infuriated Vetta, but then she realised what he just said. “What?
On his bed?” Jealousy overcame her. He never allowed her to sleep on that bed-
ever. “Why would he allow a slave like her on his bed?”
Chad almost told her that Lucien was the king, and that gave him the right to do
whatever he wanted to do. He almost reminded her that the king went through hell,
too, and that Vetta was not the only person who had, so why was she taking it so
personally?
He had always been a man of few words, so he said nothing.
“Where’s the king!?” she hissed.