Her contorted body seeks the ability to be let free, but I press on, her body tightening like a coil around my fingers as she explodes. Her muscles are tense, and her eyes are watery when she opens them to stare down at me.
“Okay, that’s enough.”
I growl lowly and continue licking and sucking every last drop of her essence. She moans loudly with each lick, and I lock away the sounds deep in my memory.
“I want to see you finish,” she demands in a breathy voice. My lips part from her center, and I see the gratification in her eyes as she watches her cum trickling down my chin.
She’s attempting to grip the waistband of her leggings and move them off of her neck.
“No,” I command in a stern voice, and I watch her throat bob. I switch hands, jerking off with the one I used to finger her. With my cock covered in her, I finally find my release. Stroking myself roughly, I let go and let myself cover her pretty pink cunt with my cum. The white streaks decorate her beautifully, and I want nothing more than to rub it into her skin. I put my cock away before releasing her of her confines.
She sighs loudly when I pull the waistband from the back of her neck, and she can finally stretch her limbs. I help her stand on wobbly legs and slide the stretched-out material back to her waist. My hand roughly cups her pussy until I feel the wetness soak through the crotch of the material.
“Mine,” I tell her.
She gives me a beaming smile. “I think if I’m going to be yours, I should at least know your name, big guy.”
“Elvor,” I answer her.
“Elvor,” she repeats with a smile. “Fitting. Well, Elvor, if you’re asking to court me, I approve. However, you must know that I’m not a one-guy kind of girl. I have a lot of time to make up for, and I plan on pushing this body to the fullest.”
I tilt my head at her and consider her words.Could I share her?
The initial idea angers me. I’ve been so patient; I’ve waited so long for a person who would suit me… and now I need to share her? I’m unsure.
“How about this? If I like someone, I’ll tell you first, and we can talk about it?” she offers. “My name’s Mara, by the way.”
“I know,” I say.
She tilts her head at me and looks me up and down. “Strong but silent type. I like it. So this is the pit, huh?” she asks, and I nod my head. “I’m—”
She doesn’t finish her sentence because Toth slams the door open; he looks furious as he takes in the room and the state I left Mara in. She’s a disheveled, gorgeous mess. Pride in making her look that way swells in me. I take a protective stance in front of Mara as the demon takes a deep breath and looks at the ceiling.
Mara taps me on the back. When I spin to face her, she nearly reaches my pectorals. I find her small size adorable. “He’s someone I like.”
I grunt in response.Toth, really?I do my best not to judge my new lover’s tastes.
“Seriously, you ran off to the fucking pit? You need to come back to the manor right fucking now,” Toth chastises her.
An animalistic growl rumbles in my chest, but Mara places a placating hand on my arm.
“It’s okay, Elvor.” She faces Toth and puts a hand on her hip. “The manor is boring. Excuse me for wanting to live a little.” I watch with pure masculine pride as Toth looks down her body and notices the pool of release at the apex of her thighs. I can see his irritation and jealousy, it’s delicious.
“Let’s go. Now,” he demands. Mara rolls her eyes and faces me.
“Maybe you could come by the manor tomorrow? You can start your courting that way,” she suggests hopefully. I give her a nod, and she fists my shirt, tugging me down so she can place a chaste kiss on my lips. “See you around, big guy,” she murmurs against my mouth before leaving me.
Toth tries to grab her arm, and she tugs it away from him. It makes pride swell in my chest; I watch her ass swish in her leggings on her way out.
What courting gift does one give the Princess of Hell?
I have a great deal to think about, and I always do my best thinking when I torture others. I automatically walk through the halls and make my way to my favorite prisoner.
My father, Drugon, the previous king of the fae realm and the man who killed me nearly four-hundred years ago.
I shove the door open, and it smashes violently against the opposing wall.
“My least favorite son,” he spits in greeting. He’s tied to a chair, and I haven’t let him clean up since the day he died, which has been nearly two decades ago.
