Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
“Please,” I chant, my eyes squeezed shut tight. “Please, please.”
“Look at him,” the purple faery whispers. “You’ll want to see his face the moment he enters you.”
She’s right. It’s something of a triumph, that a prince has waited so long to have me. That he’s allowed himself to be tortured relentlessly in preparation.
“Look at me, Cenere,” Cassan gasps. “I can feel you clutching at me already.”
I am; my opening flutters desperately, making wet, sucking kisses against the head of his cock. My body trembles. The drum speeds up. The pink faery reaches between us and takes Cassan in her hand, pumping the length of his shaft while the tip rests against me, every motion stimulating me a little more. She strokes him to the beat of the drum, growing faster and faster while he squirms in the hold of his captor. My pulse speeds to match the drum, too, and I’m getting closer, closer than I’ve been all day.
Courtiers have moved forward to watch. Some are bold enough to touch us. Hands pet Cassan’s back, my arms, my breasts. The moans and cries of the faeries lost to their own pleasures crescendo with the ever-increasing throb of the drum.
“Let me fuck her,” Cassan growls, struggling against the faeries who hold him. He’s a wild thing, truly broken by the torment, as I am.
Torment. This is exactly what Luthian prepared me for. Not the pain and humiliation Arcus inflicted upon me. This is the type of torment the court’s name implies. I understand it. Cassan understands it.
We are the perfect rulers for this court.
The faeries holding Cassan rock him against my opening, not penetrating me but simply dipping the very crown of his cock past the rim of my cunt. I try with all my might to bring him inside, but I am mortal, and no match for the strength of the fae. I’m so close, so close... I feel all the denied pleasure, every orgasm that’s been withheld from me, building from my toes up, from the top of my head down. My muscles tense. The drum beats faster, louder. Cassan roars and bucks and begs. It’s going to happen this time. I’m going to come. They’re going to let me. Finally, finally, I’m going to...
The drumbeat stops. The faeries shove Cassan’s hips forward. He thrusts deep.
My vision blurs, stains with a wash of red as I freeze, not breathing, in the grips of the strongest, most agonizing climax I’ve ever felt. Vaguely, I feel Cassan erupt inside of me, feel his hips battering my inner thighs as he moans like he’s dying.
The courtiers clap and hoot their approval as I spiral back to my body, too sensitive to bear another moment. But the faeries still hold us. Cassan gasps, “Wait!” but they ignore him, ignore both of our pleas as they continue to mash us together like obscene dolls. Cassan whimpers and cries actual tears as his sensitive member is thrust into me again and again, each stroke hitting my clit. His cum drips out of me, and courtiers reach between and beneath us to scoop it up and taste it or smear it playfully on each other. Some of those fingers enter me alongside Cassan’s cock, making the fit tighter.
Cassan thrashes and kicks, but he is powerless in the grasp of his attendants, and they fuck me with his cock ruthlessly, ignoring his ascending cries until he stiffens again, a guttural noise of raw despair tearing from his throat. He fills me again to overflowing, sobbing as his hips pound the last few thrusts of his own volition. I arch my back and cry out with another climax, and the cuffs release me. So, too, do the bonds holding Cassan. He sags forward and collapses over me, his cock still twitching as our sweat-and-cum-slick bodies entwine.
He kisses my forehead, skims the tip of my nose with his own, and holds me as if we are not surrounded by a room full of leering fae.
Weakly, I lift my face and smile. “Happy birthday, Your Majesty.”
He laughs, stirs to life inside me again, and moves against me slowly. “I could not have wished for a better present, my queen.”
Chapter Forty
Life with Cassan is so much better than I imagined it would be. When Luthian and I embarked on this plan, I had visions of strict propriety and ceremony, and a selfish, cruel prince I would need to simper for and lavish praise upon. But Cassan is respectful. He doesn’t order me about—unless we’re playing a naughty game—or desire my fear. He simply enjoys me, my body and company, and we often stay awake long into the night talking. He likes stories of my human life and expresses envy at times when I describe my home and the long days of innocent play I had as a child.