Played…
No one had ever asked to play with her. No one had ever begged for her. Or promised to make her forget her name. She’d always been treated as though she would break.
But playing sounded fun.
“Yes,” she breathed. “Yes, Commander. I’m yours.”
His eyes closed, and a low groan emitted from his throat. “Architects, that sounds sexy from your lips,” he muttered. His lips crashed desperately into hers. Nyssa struggled to keep up, not knowing where to place her hands or if she should simply let him do what he wanted. But she wanted to touch him. She wanted him pressed against every part of her—holding her beneath him and making her one with his shadow.
A low groan stiffened from his lips as her fingertips brushed his cock, and the hand he had on her bottom moved to her cheek, deepening their kiss. Her brows raised at the length of him, the thickness of his throbbing cock in her hand, and a chill ran down her spine when he pulled back to whisper her name against her throat. His lips pressed to her jaw, and he sucked her skin as she grabbed him, her hand moving up and down his hardened shaft.
He twitched in her hand as she continued to stroke, pushing the liquid on the tip of his length down it. But she wanted to taste him. Wanted to feel him hit the back of her throat and gag on this male’s cock as he pulled her hair.
The Commander had other plans.
He moved lower, his lips dragging over the corset. Lower and lower. Her hands threaded in the sheets as her hips squirmed at his every touch. She leaned up just in time to watch his eyes flutter as he settled between her legs, his breath making her jerk through the undergarments.
“Tell me…” he said as he hovered there, his nose brushing her clothed folds. “When’s the last time someone brought you to your end like this?”
It had been a while.
He chuckled against her, having apparently seen the look on her face, and he pulled her underwear off in one swift movement, tossing them back over his shoulder. His lips landed on hers, hand trailing between her thighs. One motion, his middle finger grazed over her clit, and he chuckled against her lips before making his way down her body again.
And when he was settled back, her legs on his shoulders, he kissed the inside of each thigh before looking back up at her. She was biting her lip so hard she thought it might bleed, whimpering at his teasing her.
“Louder, Princess,” he said, the predatory look in his eyes making her breath cease. “I want your Belwarks and servants running to your rescue.”
She’d never screamed for a man before, but she did for him.
He teased her slowly, just like she wanted, before devouring her. Sucking and nipping at her clit, back and forth, one finger slowly tickling at her entrance. Nyssa’s head threw back as she gripped the sheets, making noises she’d never heard herself make. She squeezed her breasts, his hair, her own thighs. She couldn’t stop moving as he toyed with her.
“Look at me,” he said when she was close. She opened her eyes, and he moved his hands to where he wanted hers, placing one of her hands on her breast, the other in his hair.
“You’re going to say my name when you come,” he promised. “And when you do, make sure the rest of this castle can hear it.”
She wondered if people in the market heard her. She came harder than she ever knew was possible. Convulsing and straining, and quivering. And when he crawled up beside her again, kissing her and letting her taste herself on his lips, she forgot what reality was.
He sat up, taking her with him, placing her straddle over his lap. "I'm going to bury you, Princess," he whispered, kissing her softly and slipping a finger inside her again. "Would you like that?"
“Yes," she pleaded without a second thought.
He shifted her, guiding her up onto her knees, before saying, “Put me inside you,” in a breath that she could only heed. She reached between them, feeling his stiff cock, and she teased his length against her throbbing clit. Rocking a few times, holding him, and watching his eyes scrunch. He cursed her name aloud, and she moved his length to her entrance.
He filled her completely, and she gasped aloud, her breath catching, but he moved her hips slowly, letting her hold the back of his neck, fingers in his hair. His head threw back against the pillow when she started rocking herself.
“Fuck, Princess,” he cursed.
One look from him made her insides quiver, and she knew she wanted him to be buried inside her, in every way possible, for the rest of the night.
But the rest of the night wasn't just the sex. It wasn't just every surface he took her against... And he took her againstallof them. He had splayed her thighs around his head as her back pressed against the bedpost, him on his knees. Then while lying on the chaise lounge, reading more of the poems that inevitably led to her sucking him off, savoring his length in her mouth as his hands dug in her head and on her shoulder. They threw off the rest of the trinkets she'd had on her dresser as he held her against it, fucking her and making her grip his hair while she screamed his name.
He'd snuck out to his own room in the middle of the night and brought back a book and more food, telling her he wanted to make sure she was hydrated and filled after their activities. The book he'd brought was one of poems, though not the dirty kind that she had shelved on her walls. This was a poetry book written by Somniarb Crelib, the Dreamer giver herself. A prized possession Nadir kept on his person at all times.
The wine was gone, as was the food, and when the sun rose, they were still awake, lying on the bed, entwined together, as he read her some of the entries from Somniarb's book.
"Tell me why you carry this with you," she asked, fingers tracing the mark on his chest.
"It's the only copy," he told her. "Lovi gave it to me a long time ago and told me to keep it safe. I like reading the passages in here that no one else knows."
