His voice drops, turning rough and demanding. “Say it. Tell me you want your king. The man who’d spill blood for you. Who’d burn the whole fucking world down, even stand against God, if it meant having you.”
I writhe and tremble under his hands, begging. “Please, Tony…please.”
He nibbles the shell of my ear. “Stop fighting yourself. Tell me you want your king. Say it.”
Shaking, desperate, I finally break. “I want you.”
Those words are enough for him. I feel his weight press me deeper into the mattress as his lips crash into mine with raw power—his kiss hard, demanding, possessive. He catches my bottom lip, sucking hard, then moves to the top, devouring me like a starving man. His tongue slips past my lips, tangling with mine, swirling in a sensual rhythm that sets my head spinning.
His hunger feeds mine, making me lose control. I try to match him, clumsy and desperate, giving everything I have.
As he kisses me, his hands roam over my body, one palming my breast with a roughness that makes me gasp into his mouth. The pressure is firm, almost too much, but he doesn’t stop. Instead, his lips begin their descent, leaving a trail of heat down my skin.
He moves lower, claiming my breast with his mouth and squeezing the other firmly. His tongue swirls over the sensitive skin, his lips sucking with a hunger that borders on feral.
The pleasure is driving me insane. My fingers dig into the sheets, clutching them as my back arches, pressing my breast further into his mouth.
For a moment, both of his hands wrap around my waist, holding me in place as his mouth moves between my breasts. He takes each one in turn, lavishing them with greedy, wild attention, like he’s been starving for me for years.
Then his lips trail lower again, his hands returning to my chest, kneading and molding my breasts as though they are his alone. When his mouth finally settles on my clit, it feels like pure damn heaven.
The heat of his tongue, the intensity of his touch, it’s intoxicating.
He pulls my clit into his mouth, and I bite my lip so hard I taste blood, trying not to scream. Even if the room is soundproof, I’m too scared to scream.
His teeth graze the edges of my core, teasing and tormenting me, while his tongue circles my entrance with maddening precision. It’s too much. I feel like I’m going to shatter.
Pinned to the bed by his powerful hands, I twist and writhe, my body trembling uncontrollably as if I’m on the verge of breaking apart. Everything inside me is tightening, coiling, ready to snap.
When he pulls away, the cool air hits my wet, throbbing pussy and I almost whimper. The relief is gone in seconds.
Something hotter, thick, and large takes the place of his mouth, pressing insistently against my entrance. My body tenses, the sudden drop in my temperature a sharp contrast to the fire raging within me. Instinctively, I try to pull away, but his hand presses firmly against my chest, holding me in place.
His breath coming in rough pants as he whispers,“Tell me, Princess. Your walls are stretched, aren’t they? Soaked and desperate to be filled. Aren’t I right?”
It’s all true. I’m soaked, aching, throbbing with a need I’ve never felt before. My body clenches, desperate to be filled. I can’t answer. Instead, I shake my head, silently fighting it.
He kisses me hard, devouring my mouth, then growls against my lips, “Tell me you want me. Tell me you want your king to fill you. Say it.”
God, I’m only human. For years I’ve dreamed of this exact moment, the moment I stop being a girl and become a woman. And the man in my dreams has always been Tony.
I say the truth. “I want you.”
In the next second, he pushes firmly against my entrance, and with one hard thrust, he fills me completely.
A scream rips from my throat. The pain is sharp, cutting deep. He stills above me, body rigid, breathing hard while I writhe and struggle for air beneath him.
He buries his face in the hollow of my neck.
“It might not be your first time technically,” he gasps, “but it’s the first real time. Your body knows pain before pleasure. Bear it for me. Let it fade. Surrender to me.”
His fingers draw slow circles over my clit. Time seems to blur as the sting of pain fades, replaced by a warmth I can’t find words to describe. Being filled by him—hot, thick, pulsing—consumes me completely. It feels exquisite, unlike anything I’ve ever felt.
My breath steadies slightly, though my chest still rises and falls with every heavy inhale. He pulls back just enough to speak, his voice low and rough.
“Are you okay?”
I nod, even though he can’t see my face beneath the blindfold.
