She surrounded him. In his mouth. Around him. His phallus was hard and swollen
to the point of pain, but he couldn’t take his mouth away from her succulent
plumpness.
He was most surprised when, suddenly; she stiffened above him, her body going
taut. And then she was sobbing aloud as shudder after shudder went through her body
as she released. She was too responsive; he’d never had a woman like her before-not
in slavery and not before.
He let go of her nipple with a pop and snaked his hand in between their bodies to
the part of her that created a pool on his belly. He caressed her there, and she
whimpered. She clenched her fists on either side of his head, and her head rolled to
one side as her body went lax against him.
Danika was breathing erratically as she tried to catch her breath and regain her
body. What surprised her was that he allowed her the time to do that.
“Get up,” he ordered at last, his voice hoarse.
Slowly, she rose above him and opened her eyes to see him. Her cheeks heated
badly at the way his eyes watched her.
He didn’t have to give more commands; she knew what to do. And even though it
was something she had never done before, she was grateful for her extensive
knowledge from reading. And with the experiences he’d given her before, she could
get the hang of it.
She wanted to please him. Make him feel the things he made her feel-and more.
When she began pulling the bedsheet from him, he reached for the blindfold on top
of the headboard. She stiffened and cried out.
He paused and looked at her.
She shook her head, swallowed tightly, and whispered, “Please”
He glared at her. But behind the glare, she could see the indecision.
“Please, let me see you. I want to see you.” She didn’t know where such courage
was coming from, but in that moment, she made her request with her sincerity written
all over her face.
She didn’t want the blindfold. The very sight of him was what she wanted.
A moment passed. Then all indecision cleared from his face, and he let go of the
blindfold.
Another bit of trust from him. Her heart fluttered, and she breathed a deep sigh of
relief.
Danika pulled herself up and looked down at his shaft, swallowing tightly in fear.
Suddenly, he was looking more potent than he was in the court when she put her
mouth around him.
How could something so big fit into her? She asked herself in panic. She did her
best to console herself and remind herself that it wasn’t the first time the king had had
her.
You can do this, Danika. You can do this.
That thought firmly in her mind, she held his swollen organ with her hand and
lowered herself on him. He groaned his pleasure as she slowly began sheathing him
with her body. Her body stretched to accommodate him, and her wetness made it
easier, but she could only take him halfway. She whimpered, the feeling bordering on
pain, her orgasm a minute before forgotten.
He watched her through half-lidded eyes as she rose again and lowered herself on
him again, fitting him into her snug channel. But she couldn’t go all the way again,
and he couldn’t control himself. His sexual need for her was too great.
He leaned up, wrapped his arm around her in a caging embrace, and in one forceful
thrust, he plunged all the way inside her body. The pleasure was so much, he couldn’t
hold the moan that escaped his throat even as she cried out loud in pain. Danika felt
unbearably full in this position, it was uncomfortable. She was completely stretched
and impaled.
Her hands shook where she gripped his shoulders, and her thighs trembled. He was
completely inside of her now, his face buried against her skin, his breathing ragged
against her ear. He lifted her by the hips and pushed her relentlessly down to take him.
Again and again. She whimpered as butterflies hit her tummy from the sensations of
the stroke of his shaft. Slowly, the pain abated with each plunge until it became a dull
ache. A tiny moan escaped her throat as he continued the steady slide of her body on
his, his moan vibrating her trembling body.
“Danika,” he groaned as he pumped her again.
Her name on his lips caused electricity to spark through her body. “My king!” she
cried against him, pleasure building in her body.
If he noticed she referred to him as ‘my king’ instead of ‘Master’, he didn’t let on.
He could only groan as he pumped her roughly up and down. With each stroke, he hit
the mouth of her womb and she cried out against him. As always with him, pain and
pleasure became one.
The king’s wound was forgotten; the pain from his wounds were there but the
pleasure of pumping into her snug channel outweighed it tenfold. He continued until
raw arousal flared through her and she lifted herself with a stabilizing hand on his
chest as she took over the movements. She urged him back to the bed and avoided the
freshly bandaged arrow wound, but her hand covered his scars on his chest as she
moved. It felt so good. This was so good.
She slid up and down, taking long strokes that milked her muscles against him. Her
eyes opened, and she found his intense blue gaze on her. She took another stroke and
saw what she was doing to him reflected in his eyes. There was no hate, no coldness
in his eyes, just intense heat, pleasure, and desire.
He likes this. He likes it a lot.