When he slides two fingers inside me, curling them to hit that perfect spot while his mouth works my clit, I nearly scream.
The shame is gone now. Burned away by need and fairy dust and the feeling of his mouth devouring me like I'm his last meal. I don't care that we have an audience. Don't care about anything except the pleasure building in my core.
"That's it," he murmurs, the vibration of his voice against my sensitive flesh making me gasp. "Come on my tongue, hatun. Let them all hear how loud you can be."
He adds a third finger, stretching me, filling me, his tongue never stopping its assault on my clit. The dual sensation is too much. I'm going to shatter, going to break apart.
That's when I hear it. A distinctly male groan from somewhere in the trees. Followed by a female moan, breathier, closer.
Our audience isn't just watching anymore.
The realization sends me over the edge. I come with a scream that echoes through the clearing, pleasure crashing through me in waves so intense I lose all sense of time and place. Distantly, I hear answering moans from multiple directions, the sounds of our voyeurs pleasuring themselves or each other, unable to resist the erotic scene playing out before them.
Kaan doesn't stop. He works me through the orgasm and into another, his fingers relentless, his mouth greedy, until I'm sobbing with overstimulation and desperate need all at once.
When he finally pulls away, I'm boneless, trembling. But he's not done.
He stands, positioning himself behind me, and then he's filling me again with one brutal thrust that makes me cry out.
This angle is deeper, harder, and combined with how sensitive I already am, it's almost too much.
"Too much," I gasp, even as my body welcomes him, clenching around his thick length.
"You can take it," he growls, setting a punishing pace that has me scrambling for purchase on the slick stone. "You'll take every inch of my cock and beg for more."
His shadows join the assault, wrapping around my breasts like living hands, teasing my nipples with touches that feel almost solid. Another tendril slides between my legs, finding my oversensitive clit and circling in time with his brutal thrusts.
"Oh gods—Kaan—" I can't breathe, can't think, can only feel.
Around us, the sounds from our audience grow louder. Breathless moans, the wet sound of flesh on flesh, whispered encouragement in languages I don't understand. They're fully engaged now, fucking each other or themselves while they watch us, and knowing that makes me impossibly wetter.
"Listen to them," Kaan commands, his hand fisting in my hair to pull my head back. "Listen to how we've inspired them. They'll remember this for centuries, the night the Shadow Lord fucked his empress in the sacred springs while the whole forest watched and got off on it."
He punctuates the words with brutal thrusts that make me see stars. The new angle has him hitting something inside me that sends sparks shooting through my entire body.
"You're mine," he growls against my ear. "This perfect cunt belongs to me. These tits—" his shadows tighten around my breasts, making me whimper, "—mine. Every moan, every scream, every drop of cum dripping down your thighs, mine. Say it."
"Yours," I gasp. "I'm yours—only yours?—"
"Damn right you are." His shadows press harder against my clit while his cock drives deeper, and the combination isdestroying me. "Now come on my cock one more time. Show our audience how good I make you feel."
The female moans around us are getting higher, more desperate. I can hear at least two couples now, their rhythm matching ours, chasing their own pleasure while they watch us fall apart, and the knowledge that we're all racing toward the edge together pushes me over.
I shatter with a scream, my inner walls clenching around him so hard he groans. Around us, I hear answering cries as our voyeurs find their own releases, the clearing filling with the sounds of collective pleasure.
Kaan follows moments later, his roar of completion vibrating through my entire body as he spills inside me, his shadows tightening almost painfully around my breasts and clit before finally releasing.
We collapse into the water together, both trembling, both completely spent. The sounds around us gradually fade as our audience disperses, satisfied and presumably scandalized in equal measure.
The bioluminescence seems brighter now, dancing across our skin like living starlight.
"I think—" I try to catch my breath. "I think I might actually be broken."
His laugh is exhausted but genuine. "You're not broken. Just thoroughly satisfied."
"Can't feel my legs."
"Good." He gathers me close, pressing kisses to my damp hair. "Then I did my job properly."
