I bottom out inside her, fully sheathed, and I have to stop. Have to breathe. The sensation is overwhelming. She's so hot, so tight, gripping every inch of me.
"Good girl taking all of me." I whisper as I kiss her ear. Her neck.
I don't move. Don't thrust. I just stay there, buried as deep as I can go, feeling her pulse around me. Can feel her pulse against my thumb on her neck.
I reach around her and feel the bulge of my cock through her stomach. I'm so large that I reorganize her insides when I'm fully seated inside her. Without moving my body, I caress her stomach where it bulges. Enjoying the feel of me this way.
I grab her hand and place it over the bulge. "Stroke me, sweetheart." I make her hand run up and down my length, pretending she's moving her hand herself.
"Perfect," I whisper, settling my weight more comfortably behind her and letting her hand rest on her stomach. My tail curls around her leg, holding her close. One of my wings drapes over us both like a blanket, the iridescent blue membrane warm and protective. "You're perfect."
I reach up with one hand, cupping her breast, finding her nipple through the silk bunched around her chest. I roll it between my clawed fingers, gentle, knowing exactly how much pressure she likes.
"They think I'm the monster. These princes. Your family. All these fools that continue to come to 'save' you. But I know the truth. I'm your savior. I'm your king now." I rub slow circles around her clit. Her breathing quickens slightly.
"He would have fucked you when he wanted and ignored you when he didn't. Called it honor. Duty. At least I'm honest about what I am. Who I am." I kiss a line from her ear to her neck. I suck marks into the skin as I continue to draw lazy circles around her clit.
I don't pretend this is anything but possession. I don't dress it up with wedding vows and courtly love while doing the exact same thing. Keeping her, using her, making love to her. Making sure no other man ever touches what's mine. The prince would have locked her up in a different kind of tower, called it a castle, and expected her gratitude.
I keep her safe. Perfect. Untouched by time and disease or the cruelty of the world that would have used her up and thrown her away.
"A couple weeks ago your family started a new campaign to 'rescue' you. Said they'd give the prince that rescued you an insane amount of money. They've been coming to the woods more often now. Did I tell you that yet?" I nip at her ear as I caress the bulge my cock forms on her lower belly. I can feel the touch on my cock through her skin. I work to regulate my breathing.
The rage that fills me when I think about it is almost overwhelming. Almost makes me thrust hard into her, claim her violently. But I don't. I stay still, stay gentle, because my Adelaide deserves gentleness.
"Three last week alone," I continue, my voice dropping to a growl. "Knights this time, not princes. Mercenaries. They came with iron weapons and holy water. Thought they were so clever."
I rock my hips slightly, just enough to feel the drag of my ridges against her walls. She clenches around me, and I groan.
"I hung their bodies from the thorns. Let them rot there as a warning. But they keep coming. They always keep coming." My claws dig into the sheets, shredding the silk. "Why can't they just leave us alone? Why can't they understand that you're mine?”
I pull back slightly, then push forward again, starting a slow, deep rhythm. My hand never stops its circles around her clit, and I feel her getting wetter, feel her body opening for me.
"You're so beautiful like this," I murmur, kissing her neck, her jaw, her cheek. "So perfect. My perfect treasure. My perfect princess. You were made for me, Adelaide. Made to be loved by me."
I've told her this a thousand times. Ten thousand times. Every day for fifty years. And I'll tell her for fifty more, for a hundred more, for eternity if I have to.
"I'll never let them take you," I promise, my thrusts getting slightly harder, slightly faster. "I'll kill every single one of them. Every prince, every knight, every fool who thinks they can save you from me. I'll paint the forest red with their blood. I'll build mountains from their bones."
The thought of it, of protecting her, of keeping her safe from all those who would harm her, makes my cock swell inside her. Makes my need for her intensify until it's almost painful.
"Mine," I growl against her neck. "Say it. Say you're mine."
Of course she doesn't answer. She never answers. But I imagine she does. I imagine her voice, soft and sweet, telling me she loves me, that she wants this, that she's grateful I saved her.
"That's right," I whisper, as if she's spoken. "You're mine. Forever mine."
I thrust harder now, unable to hold back, my control slipping. The ridges on my cock drag against her inner walls with each movement, and I feel her clench around me, feel her body responding even in sleep.
"Come for me," I command, my fingers working faster on her clit. "Come on my cock, Adelaide. Show me how much you love this. Show me how much you love me."
Her breathing changes, becomes faster, shallower. Her inner walls flutter around me, and I know she's close. My perfect girl, always so responsive, always so good for me.
"That's it," I praise, my voice rough with need. "That's my good girl. My perfect treasure. Come for me. Come for your king."
She does. Her body tenses, her walls clamping down on my cock in rhythmic pulses, and I feel the flood of wetness around me. I groan, my own orgasm building at the base of my spine.
"Fuck, Adelaide. So perfect. So fucking perfect."
