Come I did, this time, not holding back my scream of pleasure. It echoed off the walls, and I was shocked to hear the heights of pleasure in my own voice. The climax didn’t just disappear this time either. Slowly, Nial coaxed more of it out of me and had my body shaking and sweaty in the throes of delight.
He was above me a moment later, and I hadn’t even realized he’d moved.
The big blunt head of his cock waited at my entrance.
When he leaned down, his breath tickled my neck. “You have such a fine, fine cunny to bury my cock in.”
“Do it,” I whispered, trailing my sharp nails over his chest and finding his own peaked nipples. I pinched, and he gasped, shoving into the depth of my sex. He found the end of me, and my body shivered in the not quite pain of him as he seated himself fully into my depths. “Damn, you feel good.”
The man needed a compliment, right?
I think he did. It seemed warranted for the time.
“I hate you so much, Gwen.” Pulling himself back out and thrusting back in, he crushed my breasts as the heat of the little flame disappeared. “I hate what you are. And I especially hate your pussy because it’s fucking perfect.”
I almost laughed.
I guess the gifted compliment was well-timed.
“Shut up, Nial. I’m here for you to fuck me, not make conversation.” I reached up behind me and grabbed the bars of his brass headboard. “I hate you too—so just take what you need, and give me what I’m here for.”
Wrapping his elbows under my legs, he pushed my legs back and up and opened my sex like a flower. Cooled air flowed over me, helped by Nial’s magic, and heightened the contact of his hot skin slapping and plunging into me.
His cock glided over my clit at this angle—and I was glad for that. I was busy playing with his nipples and getting little purrs and moans out of him as I did. He was rewarded with my bellows and shouts as he continued to try to thrust himself deeper and deeper.
Hell, it did feel so good. His delightful erection sawed in and out, in and out of my entrance. His dark skin glistened with a sheen of sex sweat and was magnificent above me.
He closed his glorious eyes and his strokes shortened, harder. I twisted and pulled on his nipple, scraping my nails along his chest this time. Popping his eyes open, his gaze bore into mine, burning me with the lust and desire in the bright, green, fiery depths.
“So wet, so hot,” he managed to grunt. “How does a tiny little thing like you manage to take so much of my cock?”
I grinned, and with a push, rolled us so I was on top of him. It was time for me to dominate him and finish this.
I dropped down hard, my head dropping back. “Oh, fuck! That’s deep!”
He had no answer except a long, guttural moan.
Also, I didn’t care about any inhibitions at that moment. I was taking my climax out of his cock. I started rocking myself over him, sliding his shaft against my clit as it left and returned to my depths.
I dropped myself hard on his cock, over and over.
I squeezed the muscles that caressed him, holding him tight inside my pussy. I panted, “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come.”
Hands found my bouncing breasts, my tight, excited nipples. Erotic sensation passed through me from his calloused hands. I was driving us both to the brink as fast and as hard as I could.
“Keep going, Gwen. God, that pussy’s so tight.” He grabbed my hips, shoving his own up against me hard. Again and again. “So damn good. So damn good.”
I squeezed him as I bobbed up and down on his shaft.
He grunted the whole time, each time.
“I’m coming!” There was no stopping it as I shoved him deep inside again. With an unexpected brush of his finger over my clit, I flew.
The climax took me hard, and I snapped my eyes open, catching his gaze at the moment his own orgasm took hold and rushed his cum up into my cunt.
My body shook as I landed hard on his chest, my breathing labored. My eyelids fluttered as reality settled down onto my shoulders. I had done it.
And it hadn’t been terrible…not at all.
Shit.
Maybe I wasn’t cut out for this.
*
He was snoring next to me.
I stared at the ceiling, wide awake and naked.
It felt…good.
Warm. Almost…cozy.
How much of that was the Blood Rite, how much of it was me, and how much of it was the insufferable asshole who had fucked me—I didn’t know.
And the damn overlord. The man had fucking winked at me, as if he were proud of my actions. Proud to see me slipping into another man’s room for devious purposes—because he damn well knew what I was doing. I had thought… What the hell had I thought?
That the overlord and I had a special connection?
Fuck me.
I was screwed in the head for even thinking that.
Sitting up, I swung my legs off the bed. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in a mirror. I still had on the stupid makeup, now smeared and gruesome. I wanted to laugh, but I had to stay quiet. I extracted the shift from the golden, weird magic on the floor and dropped it over my head, grabbing the rest of my clothes and carrying them. Trying to get dressed in the freezing, clinging mist snaking up my legs was not appealing.
There was no way I could stay here and roll in for the Challenge from his room. No way. Some of them already wanted to pair me with him, and I didn’t need to encourage that.
Naked under my shift, I walked out of his not-nearly-as-dark room into the hallway and made my way back to my apartments through the dozens of drunken bodies in the corridors, sleeping, fucking, giggling—all hung over or still partying from the Blood Rite.
I closed the door to my room and sat on the edge of my bed. The sheer lust and fulfillment the druid had given me passed through my mind again. I flopped back.
Different ceiling. Same thoughts.
Oh, to hell with that.
I rolled out of bed almost immediately and took a long, hot shower, erasing the druid’s smell from my skin and scrubbing off my makeup. A cup of hot tea would be nice right now. It would—hopefully—go a long way to soothing my runaway thoughts about opposing men.
Once patted down with a plush towel, I dressed quickly in a pair of black, fleece pajama pants and an oversized black sweater, and then proceeded to slink through the royal corridors. My nose wrinkled, noticing all the guards outside the different overlords’ bedroom doors. They pretended to ignore me, so I pretended to ignore them.
I started pulling my wet hair up into a ponytail and stepped into the shared private kitchen. A long sigh flew past my lips as my gaze ran over the two individuals inside the room. Apparently, the kitchen was never empty in the late hours. My muscles tensed, waiting to get harassed yet again.
Their kitchen from Hell. It wasn’t the place to be.
Lord Xenon glanced up from the white, round table where he sat. He sipped on what smelled like coffee from a red porcelain mug. His gaze traveled over my features while he drank. He watched as I finished yanking my hair into a ponytail, then he set his cup down gently on the table. With a wave of his hand toward the counter, he stated simply, “There’s coffee brewed already.”
My shoulders sagged, relaxing.