“I realize you’ve never touched a male before—not here anyway,” he says. “But let me tell you—this is a delicate area. You’d better be careful. If you’re not, you’ll be sorry.”
“Oh, and how exactly will you make me sorry?” I scoff.
A slow smile spreads across his face.
“The next time I have to drink from you, I’ll take my time,” he rumbles. “I’ll spread your pussy and tease that swollen little clit between your legs until you’re begging and trembling but I won’t let you come.”
His words make me feel hot and cold all over. I’ve heard the dirty words he uses—crude words whispered by the servants when they don’t think I’m listening. The maids especially have “dirty minds and dirty mouths” as my chaperone likes to say. But no one has ever spoken them aloud to me…or made such vile, disgusting threats against me.
I tell myself I should be enraged at his insolence—and truly, I am. But also, why is my body so hot and why do the sensitive tips of my breasts feel so tight and achy? I squeeze my thighs tightly together, trying to ignore the ache I feel there, too. What’s wrong with me?
“Just be gentle,” Valen says to me. “I don’t want you ripping my cock out by the roots.”
“Stop using such crude language,” I say, but my words come out sounding breathless. “I’ll wash you gently—just let me go.”
“All right.” His grip on my wrist loosens and I’m able to pull away. His equipment is still huge and hard between us, and I realize I have a job to do—best get it over with quickly.
But when I grip the thick pole of flesh—and I do mean thick, as in I can’t fit my fingers all the way around it—I can’t seem to make myself go fast. I spread the lather up and down, sliding the hot, throbbing club of flesh through my fist until Valen closes his eyes and lets out a groan.
“Am I hurting you?” I ask.
“Fuck no, little Princess. Keep going—keep stroking me,” he growls. He pumps his hips, as though to thrust his shaft deeper into my fist and groans again—a deep, guttural sound that comes from low in his chest.
I feel a funny little flutter in my stomach. I’ve never heard a man make that sound—a sound that’s somewhere between pleasure and pain and I caused it. I keep stroking him, slowly up and down. His flesh is as hot and hard as a bar of freshly smithed iron in my hand…and yet his skin is incredibly soft.
Like flower petals, I think.
Valen groans again and thrusts up into my hand. His shaft is clean now—well, mostly—and the true color is revealed. The broad, mushroom-shaped head is an angry red, shading to a deep plum near the base. It’s so huge I wonder how he can fit it into anyone. Clearly the women of his people must have a much larger area for receiving a man’s equipment than the women of my own people do.
For a moment, I imagine myself trying to take that thick club inside me. He’s so big and I’m so small and tight—at least so my guilty, infrequent midnight explorations have taught me. Then I push the shocking thought away—I would never!
Valen is groaning steadily now.
“Fuck yeah, baby—keep stroking!” he says.
His hips are working, pumping his shaft into my fist, splashing water on the floor, but neither of us says anything about that. I don’t know why, but I like this, even though I know I shouldn’t. I like knowing that his most sensitive part is in my hand—that I’m the one making him groan and pump and beg. It makes me feel powerful in a way that even wearing the silver ring does not.
“Gonna come soon!” he groans.
He’s gripping the sides of the tub now, his knuckles white. His head is thrown back, showing his strong throat and the cruel silver collar. He is panting and all the muscles along his flat abdomen are bunched with tension.
I have to admit, I feel mesmerized—as though I can’t stop. I’m not sure what’s happening, but I have a feeling we’re building towards some kind of crescendo together. It’s the same sensation I had when he was biting me—like everything is coming to a peak somehow.
“Fuck, Princess, your little hands are so soft on me!” he groans. “Goddess-fucking-damnit, that feels so good! Stroke my cock—stroke it! Make me come for you.”
And that’s the exact moment when the door opens and Maud the innkeeper bustles in with a fully loaded tray.
17
IRENA
I stop stroking at once and stand quickly, putting myself between our innkeeper and the sight of Valen naked in the tub with his thighs splayed and his throbbing man parts on full display.
If she heard him moaning and groaning, she doesn’t say anything about it. Just narrows her eyes suspiciously as she places the heavy tray down on the small table on the other side of the hearth.
“I’ve brought you both breakfast,” she tells me. “I take it your man servant is feeling better?”
“Er, yes—much better.” I feel my cheeks getting hot with a blush, but I lift my chin, trying not to show how embarrassed I am.
