Watching her head bob over him, taking him into her pretty mouth, it was enough to nearly finish him. Her lips pulled away with a pop and she stood.
“Oh no, not yet, my king. I will decide when you come tonight.”
He laughed, breathless and shocked. “Naughty thing.”
Alora stood before him, holding his stare as she undid the gold laces of her dress and let the red fabric pool at her feet. His tail coiled tightly, his throat going dry.
When he tried to stand, her shadows tightened on him, enough to sting. He hissed, feeling himself grow impossibly harder. There was a glint in her eye that made something deep and primal pace inside of him.
Her body glowed like honey in the dark as she straddled his thighs. Her soft cunt hovered above him, lowering enough to plague him with her warmth. She slowly ran her fingers slowly along the underside of his tail and his composure fractured. Rune bucked with a strangled groan, his chest heaving, hands fisting.
“I must confess,” Alora murmured, licking his lips with the same agonizing motion of her folds stroking the tip of him. Barely enough to tease, but not nearly enough to fulfill. He panted, feral and desperate. “I do enjoy torturing you.”
“Alora,” he growled, straining. “Release me. I need to be inside of you. Now.”
She laughed. “Do you? But I am not done toying with you yet.”
Reaching down, she held him against her slick core, sliding her body along his lengths with agonizing torment.
Rune writhed in his growing madness. “I can only take so much, woman.”
She licked the pulsing markings on his chest. “Or is it that you resist giving up so much control?”
Her fingers tangled in his hair at the base of his neck, tight enough to make him hiss.
“You’re trembling,” Alora murmured, almost pitying. She took his chin, tipping his head back until he was forced to meet her gaze. “Look at you,” she hummed, voice dripping with something wicked. “The great God of Shadows, at my mercy.”
Rune’s lips parted in a silent snarl.Careful, love.
Her answering smile was sin incarnate. Then she took him in her hands, positioning both rigid lengths against her soft warmth. The growl that rumbled in his throat was pure animalistic.
“Both at once?” Rune chuckled darkly. “Can you take that much of me, songbird?”
“Was it not you who said, there is nothing I cannot do?”
And when Alora lowered herself onto him—slow, purposeful, a mere inch, while never breaking eye contact—Runeshuddered.
A low, excoriating curse tore from his throat.
The fit, it was so fucking tight, he was gasping.
He strained against his restraints, wanting to grab her, to dive into her, but her power shoved him back with a strength born of desire and seduction reclaimed.
“Not yet.” She nipped his jaw. “You will touch me when I allow it.”
Then she sank down another blessed inch with a soft whimper.
Rune heaved for air, blessed and broken in the same breath. “Release me!”
“Thenbeg,” she said softly against his lips.
Rune’s breath grew ragged; mouth parted with the craving to devour her. The need was hollowing him out from the inside. His jaw clenched so tight it ached, muscles trembling beneath the hold of her shadows.
He was not used to being helpless. He was used to commanding armies with a glance.But beneath her, he was unraveling.
“Alora—”he cut off in a moan when her walls deliciously gripped him.
She hummed. “Yes?”
