The King

“Lie on your back,” she said. “If you want me, that is.”


He wanted her. He crawled over the bed and felt the bite of the thorns into his knees and palms. He lay diagonally across the bed wincing as they pricked at his bruised and battered skin. Once he settled into the sheets, Mistress Felicia raised a hand to her neck and took off the black lace choker. She reached down and removed her boots. She stripped herself of her skirt, then her corset. Off came her stockings and garters. And when she finally stood naked, she took the knot of her hair down.

Now she crawled to him.

“The thorns,” he warned as her hand touched the sheets.

“Have you ever met the rose who was afraid of her own thorns?”

She knelt at his side and took his wrists in her hands, pressing them into the bed by his head. The compassion was gone now, replaced by passion.

“Kiss me inside,” she said against his lips before moving to straddle his head. He grasped her waist. Her skin was so warm and soft. She pushed her hips forward so that her clitoris was at his lips. He licked it and kissed it, sucking it between his lips and teasing it with the tip of his tongue. Mistress Felicia let out the softest sigh of pleasure. He pulled her harder on to his mouth. He tasted her heat and wanted more of it, so he grasped her hips and moved her on him, opening her up with his mouth, lapping at every part of her lips, outer and inner, seeking the core of her while she gasped and moaned on top of him. She covered his hands with hers and squeezed his fingers as she orgasmed. Fluid rushed out of her and coated his lips and chin, and he drank her wetness. He couldn’t get enough of her.

When her shuddering ceased, she sat back on his chest and reached to the table at the side of the bed. He knew she reached for a condom, but he took his chance to capture her nipple in his mouth and suck on it. He circled her aureole with his tongue and sucked her breast deeper into his mouth. Two weeks… It seemed like a year since he’d had a woman’s body in his bed. He had to taste all of her.

She let him kiss her breasts, offering up to his mouth first her right nipple and then her left. As he sucked her, he ran his hands up and down her smooth back. She was thin but shapely, tall and lissome as a f lower but with strength rippling under her skin.

At last she pulled away, moved down his body, removed the cock ring and slipped the condom over his straining erection. She straddled him again. He watched as she gripped him and put him inside her. She took him in slowly, working him into her wet body inch by inch. Her orgasm was recent and her vagina tight from it. He felt that tightness straining to take him all, the size of him pushing against her narrow inner walls. It pleased him to fill her, to see her wince as her body struggled to accept all of him. She tilted her hips forward and took him all the way in. Ecstasy—white-hot and blinding—permeated him as she moved on him, riding him, each thrust of her hips taking him deeper inside her. She placed her hands on the sides of his chest, covering the scar with her palm. Her eyes closed, and he watched her move on him. Her hair swayed about her shoulders, her breasts rose and fell with every breath. She came again, and he could feel her tight inner body convulsing around him.

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