It was a heady sensation, knowing she could make him feel like this. That she
could give him pleasure. That she could erase the pain of the past from his eyes even
for a moment.
Currents of pleasure slid through her, and she suddenly wanted more closeness
from him. She wanted his kiss. His mouth on hers. But she also knew the
impossibility of that happening. She wished it would happen one day.
So, instead of his lips on hers, she settled for another. She leaned down, moved her
hands above his head, pressed her torso up against his face, and held her aching nipple
to his mouth in a silent plea.
His breath hissed out, and he placed his mouth hungrily on it and began suckling in
hard tugs. She sobbed; her eyes closed. Her body was on fire, but she didn’t have
enough leverage to take long strokes in this position. Her body continued to move
against his, but more slowly and with shortened strokes. His arms wrapped around
her, his tongue and mouth devouring her puckered nub and her plump breast. He slid
his hands to her thighs and began swirling them over her skin. One hand clung to her
hip with bruising strength as he plunged into her while pushing her down on him. Her
cries split the air at the twin sensations of his mouth on her breast and his thick organ
powering inside her.
“Oooooh! Aaarh!” she cried in long drawls, her body trembling so badly he heard
the vibrations in her cries. She got more liquid inside.
When she couldn’t take the torture of his lips on her nipple any longer, she pulled
back from him and rose above him. The fullness of him throbbing between her thighs,
his hands bruising her thighs. She made a slight change, getting more comfortable,
and taking a long, steady stroke at the same time.
King Lucien slid his hands to her breasts, and he manipulated her aching nipples,
rubbing them between his fingers and thumbs, and when he did, she was flooded with
a heated, liquid sensation that eased his way. While she moaned, he groaned. His eyes
slid close, and he looked like he was filled with deep-seated pleasure. The same
feeling that threatened to engulf her.
The pain was there each time he hit her cervix, but so was the pleasure. She slid up
on him and tightened her grip on his shoulders before coming back down again. He
was hard and thick, and Danika felt the fullness all the way to her soul. The king held
her so tightly, the sweat from their bodies mingling with the hot steamy air, her body
sliding against his, over him, surrounding him as he filled her completely.
He held her with a tight, ruthless possession that in her sane mind might have
alarmed her. But it didn’t.
This time around, he pushed her to a sitting position, and his mouth landed on a
nipple, his tongue roughly abrading it as his hand played with its twin. She let the pain
and pleasure take over her body; she was aroused almost to the tipping point.
As he played with her breasts and suckled intensely, her arousal grew to a fever
pitch. She lifted herself off him in long strokes, her internal muscles clamping on him
during the exquisitely satisfying slide back down. She slid up and down as great
waves of pleasure consumed her. It came to a crescendo, and her body clenched
tightly as she came to a climax that sent her soaring to the stratosphere. She screamed
from the intensity and stopped moving to get away from it, but as soon as she did, he
grabbed her by the hips and started jerking her body up and down on his shaft.
“Oh! Please!” she sobbed as he pumped her. Danika’s mind was slowly clearing
from the fog that clouded her brain from her orgasm. He was coming inside of her,
groaning with the force of his release, and holding her down on top of him as he
pushed all the way in until his blunt head pushed past the mouth of her womb.
She shrieked as she twisted her body to get away from the intense, unbearable
feeling she couldn’t describe as pleasure or pain. But he held her still with bruising
strength as she felt his hot semen jetting into her core. With a weak cry, she collapsed
over him, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Her erratic breathing
mingled with his, the air filled with the sound of it.
Long minutes passed before she could move her body away from his, and she lay
on the bed. Lying beside him, she felt his semen on her thigh. She felt him
surrounding her.
Waves of dizziness slammed into her. No matter how she tried to keep her eyes
open, she could not.
King Lucien watched sleep overtake her, her sweaty body going lax around him.
With the sex over, the pain from his wound multiplied. But even the pain wasn’t
keeping the sleep that clouded his mind at bay. He watched the even rise and fall of
her chest. Her red puckered nipples he abused, but he couldn’t get enough. Even in
sleep, she had one hand resting on his chest soothingly. He never saw the revulsion he
expected to see when he decided not to use the blindfold.
Never, not even once during the time she pleasured him, did he see any disgust in
her eyes. Instead, they blazed with heat, pleasure, and pain.
He stared at her soft, flawless hand on his scarred chest. Who exactly was this
woman?
But he wasn’t any closer to knowing the answer to that question as he was since
the first time he asked.
As he surrendered to sleep, he curled his arm around her body, pulling her closer to
him. He burrowed his face to her hair and breathed her deeply into his system.
He allowed the peace and warmth of being this close to her surround him and wrap
around him like a cloak.
And then he settled into a peaceful slumber.
Vetta stood behind the door, breathing rage and fire. She’d come to check on him
and to find good reasons to punish Danika and send her away. Vetta wanted to know
if she could seduce the king into using her fertility pills. Then she’d heard the king’s
groans of pleasure… and Danika’s.
The lamp in the bedroom cast their shadows, and Vetta could see everything they
did through the shadows.
She saw everything. She heard everything. Her blood boiled hotter than fire.
.
.