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With a chuckle, I redouble my efforts, making sure she feels every single moan her perfect, utterly divine pussy pulls from me. My face buried between her thighs is how I want to end every single night, seeing how far I can push her before she surrenders and begs me for it.
She's flexing every muscle in her body, trying to keep herself from doing so now, knowing there's no coming back from it when she inevitably does. She knew exactly where this would end when she gripped the headboard instead of telling me to fuck off.
A vicious suck, pulling her clit into my mouth and flicking my tongue against it, nearly sends her into oblivion, and she shouts, "Fuck!" Come on, gorgeous. Let me have it. I need it. "Please, Kai. Please, just let me…" she whines again, forcing the words out with such humiliation I know she's never said them before, "Please make me come."
As soon as she says the magic words, I release her, stopping my work on her cunt. She tries to protest, but I grip her jaw, forcing her back down into the bed as I hover over her once again, every bit the monster she fears I am. "Open," I order.
She opens her mouth without hesitation, submitting so wholly my body aches to reward her. Confusion and carnal lust cloud her eyes as she watches and waits for what's next. Slowly, I let a small amount of spit gather on my tongue, flavored with her and her clothes, and stick my tongue out.
The trail of saliva drips from my mouth, and she watches it, craving it like it's the first drink of water she's seen in days. When it finally reaches her mouth, it puddles on her tongue, and I groan at the filthy, depraved thoughts I have of watching my cum gather on it the same way. "Swallow."
She closes her mouth, and I stare as her muscles work to swallow it, so immensely pleased that any part of me could be inside her body when I can't be. She gazes up at me, and I down at her, desire so intense it's coursing through my blood, heating me from the inside and making me painfully hard.
I shouldn't do this to her. Leave her like this. She's going to be furious. It'll ruin any progress I've made toward being cordial, much less earning her trust.
Images of her batting her lashes at the crown prince fill my mind, and suddenly, I don't feel bad about it anymore.
All at once, I force myself away from her, standing from the bed with a grace that I certainly don't feel. "Get some sleep, my Elva. You have a big day tomorrow." Without so much as another glance, I exit her room, locking myself in my bathroom.
My cock aches to return to my Elva and finish what I started for both of us, aches to slide into the warmth waiting for me. Frantically, before I can think better of it, I release myself from my pants and find release in my fist, hoping to ease the need clouding my thoughts. It doesn't work, of course, only easing the pressure for a second before I'm painfully, agonizingly hard again.
Before I can do something stupid, I throw myself into bed, wishing for a sleep that I know won't come.
Sixteen
Elva
That asshole.
That arrogant, colossal, massive, giant asshole!
Standing in front of my mirror this morning, I see the point of last night's visit. A tapestry of blue and purple covers my inner thighs and hips, and a very distinct print is visible from the seams of his gloves around my neck.
How fucking dare he?
I am just doing my job, and he thinks he has any right to mark me, to make certain that another man won't come anywhere near me while I wear his artwork. All of that, just to not let me find release at all.
I don't think I've ever been so furious with someone. I've certainly never felt any of the things I felt last night. Not being a virgin doesn't mean that I'm at all experienced with the kind of overpowering, pulsing desire I feel when Kairon touches me. Like every nerve in my body shuts off except for the ones he's touching.
Nothing exists aside from him when he's near me, and it's becoming impossible to navigate. I am supposed to be the charming one, and he's supposed to be The Horned King, for gods' sake.
Raya appears behind me, whistling. "Wow."
I mhmm, gritting my teeth.
"Those are impressive. I can almost see the imprint of his teeth right there." She cackles, pointing at a remarkably detailed spot on my right leg.
"Yes, I see that. Thank you."
She laughs again. "Elva, what have you done to him?"
I scoff, turning around to face her. "I haven't done anything," I argue my innocence. "I'm just..." Her raised brow and smirk let me know that my lie isn't as convincing to her as it is to me. "I may have been a little extra friendly with Prince Tirriel yesterday."
Her quiet laughter turns into howls as she uses my shoulder to balance herself. "You are a deviant, Elva. You've brought more fun into this castle than it's probably seen in centuries."
"How was I supposed to know he would react this way?" I ask as I step behind the changing partition. The dress hung up on it for me to grab is a light yellow, tiny blue detailing woven in to look like little flowers. It's ethereal, looks like spring, and feels even better. When I return from behind it, Raya looks me up and down clinically, nodding her approval.
"You must know the effect you have on him by now," she chides.
