A Heart Disguised 1 (The Demon Lords of Aethoria)

17. Robin

17

Robin

“ Y our Grace, if you keep cracking jokes like that, I may just scramble out of here.”

The duke’s eyes danced with mirth, and for a moment, the weight of our peculiar situation seemed to lift, buoyed by his humor. But as his gaze swept over me, the atmosphere shifted, charged with a heady intensity that left me acutely aware of my disheveled state. The wedding gown hung precariously from my shoulders, the skirt was a mess of silk and lace, and my hair… well, I imagined I looked like a wild nymph who’d been caught in a tempest.

The duke’s eyes darkened, and that look—equal parts predator and protector—made my heart race and my insides quiver with a dark longing I couldn’t quite understand. It was as if he could see straight through the gown, the lingerie, and into the very core of my being.

“Come, let’s get you out of this dress,” he said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate in the very marrow of my bones.

I hesitated, my eyes wide as I clutched at the fabric. A surge of panic washed over me, the prospect of standing bare before him as daunting as facing a horde of Raiders in the heat of battle.

“But why must we remove it?” I asked, my voice quivering like a leaf caught in a storm. “It’s not as if it’s on fire… is it? Surely there are parts of me best left to the imagination?”

His lips curled into a smile that was equal parts mischief and impatience. “I wish to see my wife as she truly is,” he said. “It is customary for a husband to behold his wife in her natural state on their wedding night,” he explained, as if I were somehow unaware of this age-old tradition. “There should be no secrets between us—sartorial or otherwise,” he continued, his voice lowering to a husky timbre. “And I find myself most eager to see what treasures lie beneath all this finery.”

I knew he was right, but that didn’t quell the fluttering in my stomach or the heat that crept up my neck and flooded my cheeks. With a resigned sigh, I stepped away from the bed, standing shakily as the duke began to peel away the layers of my gown. Each inch of fabric that slipped from my body seemed to increase the intimacy between us, stoking the fire that his touch ignited within me.

Once I stood there in nothing but the cursed white lingerie, I felt more naked than if I’d been entirely bare. The duke’s gaze roamed over me, from the top of my tousled hair to the tips of my trembling toes. His hands followed the path his eyes had taken, caressing my thighs, waist, and the sides of my torso, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

“Have you had your fill of staring?” I asked, my voice laced with a mix of irritation and embarrassment. “Or shall I pose for a portrait while we’re at it?”

The duke’s smile was slow and thoroughly wicked. “Not quite yet,” he murmured, his voice husky. “I am cherishing the sight of you, my beautiful wife. You’re a masterpiece that deserves to be savored.”

Before I could retort, he pulled me into his lap, cradling me against the firm contours of his chest. His lips claimed mine in an ardent kiss that left me breathless, the sensation of his fangs teasing my lower lip. His hands roamed freely over my body, igniting sparks of pleasure wherever they touched.

I groaned into the kiss, my body instinctively arching into him. The duke’s lips trailed a scorching path down my throat—each kiss, lick, and nip setting my nerves alight. My hands found their way into his hair, tangling in the silken strands as I clung to him, lost in the maelstrom of sensations he was conjuring within me.

When he finally released my lips, I was panting, my heart pounding like a drumbeat in my ears. The duke’s eyes held mine, and in that moment, despite my fear and uncertainty, I found myself eager to explore the mysteries of our union—and the myriad ways in which this demon lord could make me feel alive.

I gasped as the duke lowered me onto the bed, his powerful body a tantalizing shadow looming over mine. The plush mattress cradled me, a stark contrast to the hard planes of his form pressing against me. My heart raced, a mix of anticipation and nervousness coursing through my veins. As his lips found my throat once more, I couldn’t help but quip, “Well, Your Grace, I must say your methods of introduction are rather… thorough. Is this how you greet all your guests, or am I receiving special treatment?”

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Only the most enchanting ones, my dear,” he murmured against my skin, his breath hot and enticing. His lips resumed their exploration, trailing fire down my throat to the hollow at its base, where my pulse fluttered like a trapped butterfly.

His hands moved with practiced ease, unfastening the delicate top of my lingerie. As the cool air kissed my exposed skin, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of self-consciousness. My chest was as flat as a moonless night, hardly the bountiful landscape that I’d heard men preferred. Memories of Tessa and Tilly’s giggles about their beaus’ fascination with their ample bosoms flitted through my mind, and I wondered if the duke would find me lacking.

But when his eyes met mine, they blazed with an intensity that threatened to set the very air ablaze. His gaze roved over my exposed flesh, darkening with desire. His fingers brushed over my nipples, and I gasped, shocked by the jolt of pleasure that shot through me.

“You have such beautiful skin, Robin,” he purred, his voice a low thrum that seemed to vibrate through my entire being. “Your chest is enchanting.”

I blinked, utterly perplexed. “Enchanting?” I echoed, my voice a mix of disbelief and amusement. “I’m afraid you might need to have your eyes checked, Your Grace. There’s about as much to admire here as there is grass in a desert.”

The duke’s lips quirked into a smirk. “Oh, but deserts have their own unique beauty, don’t they? Subtle, yet captivating.” His eyes roved over my chest hungrily, and I felt heat stirring in my belly. “Besides,” he added, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, “I’ve always preferred quality over quantity.”

Before I could formulate a witty retort, he leaned down and took one of my nipples into his mouth. A strangled gasp escaped me as his tongue swirled around the sensitive bud. Oh gods, was this what people did? The gossip mill had clearly left out some crucial details.

His mouth was warm and wet, his tongue expertly teasing and flicking at my nipple. The sensation was exquisite, sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body. His teeth grazed the sensitive peak, eliciting a whimper from me that I hardly recognized as my own voice.

As he lavished attention on my chest, alternating between gentle nips and soothing licks, I arched into his touch, my body betraying my desperate need for more. His hands roamed my skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake. One hand moved to my other nipple, fingers rolling and tweaking the sensitive bud, creating a symphony of sensations that left me breathless.

“I… I thought you preferred more… substantial partners,” I managed to stammer between gasps of pleasure.

The duke paused his ministrations, lifting his head to meet my gaze. His eyes sparkled with mischief. “My dear Robin, you shouldn’t believe everything you hear. Although,” he added with a wink, “I must admit, I do enjoy a handful… or in this case, a mouthful.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, the sound quickly morphing into a moan as he resumed his attentions. My head spun with the onslaught of sensations, each touch, each caress sending waves of pleasure crashing through me. My hands found their way into his hair, fingers tangling in the silky strands as I held him close, silently begging for more.

The duke’s mouth moved to my other nipple, lavishing it with the same intense focus. Meanwhile, his hands explored the rest of my body, tracing the curve of my waist, the jut of my hip bones, the sensitive skin of my inner thighs. Each caress left me feeling more alive, more aware of my own body than I’d ever been before.

As I writhed beneath him, lost in a haze of ecstasy I’d never known existed, a stray thought flitted through my mind. Perhaps this bizarre, impossible marriage might work after all. If nothing else, it promised to be an education in the most delightful sense.

The pleasure built within me, a tightening coil of sensation that threatened to overwhelm me. My breath came in short gasps, my body moving of its own accord, seeking more of his touch, more of this intoxicating feeling.

“Your Grace,” I breathed, my voice barely above a whisper, husky with desire, “if this is how you plan to conduct our marriage, I fear I may never leave this bed.”

His answering grin was positively wicked, his golden eyes molten with passion. “My dear Robin,” he purred, “that’s precisely the idea.”

I felt a flutter of apprehension as the duke’s attentions shifted, his mouth leaving the sensitive peaks of my chest to trail kisses like molten drops along my belly. His hands skimmed down my sides, each touch sending shivers of anticipation coursing through me. My skin felt feverish, each nerve alight with a fire that only the duke seemed to stoke higher and higher. His lips moved downward, and I couldn’t suppress a shiver that rippled through me. The path of his kisses seemed like a cartographer’s route mapping an uncharted territory—a journey to the southern reaches of my trembling form.

What on earth was he doing? Was this what married life was to be—an endless exploration of each other’s bodies? I had heard whispers of such things, of course, but the reality was proving to be far more intoxicating than any gossip could convey.

As his mouth lingered near my navel, I wondered, with a mix of trepidation and delight, what he found so alluring about this expanse of skin. What treasure did he expect to unearth in such well-trodden ground? The absurdity of it all nearly made me chuckle—until his kisses edged lower, and my breath hitched.

His hands gripped my hips, holding me in place as he knelt between my thighs. There it was—his gaze locked on to the very heart of my trepidation. Beneath the flimsy lingerie, the unmistakable bulge declared itself with an assertiveness that betrayed my inner turmoil. I blushed fiercely enough to set the room ablaze with my embarrassment. Instinctively, my hands darted down in a vain attempt to shield myself from his piercing eyes.

But the duke gently pried them away with an ease that suggested this was but a minor inconvenience. “You look enchanting like this,” he assured me with an intensity that suggested sincerity—or perhaps it was just a demon thing? Was this what captivated beings from his realm?

As if answering my unspoken question, he hooked a finger beneath the waistband of the delicate lingerie and pulled them down. The fabric slipped away like silk waterfalls and there I was—laid bare in every sense of the word. My manhood sprang free, not majestic or grandiose but undeniably present—an average soldier standing at attention without any forest to camouflage its presence. I wanted to crawl into the deepest hole as he surveyed me with an expression akin to a connoisseur admiring a fine wine.

“You look enchanting,” he said, his voice rough with need. “I’ve never seen anything quite so beautiful.” His gaze was fixed on my manhood with an intensity that bordered on feral, and for a moment, I was certain my heart would burst from my chest.

I couldn’t help but laugh, albeit shakily. “I highly doubt that, Your Grace. I’m quite certain you’ve seen your fair share of… well, everything.”

His lips curved into a smile, but his eyes remained serious. “Perhaps,” he conceded. “But beauty isn’t about how much you’ve seen, Robin. It’s about the impact of what you’re seeing in the moment.”

And then, without warning, he leaned forward and took me into his mouth.

The sensation was like nothing I had ever experienced. His tongue swirled around the head of my cock, teasing and flicking at the sensitive flesh. His lips slid up and down my shaft, creating a maddening friction that had me writhing and gasping for air.

Pleasure, white-hot and consuming, coursed through my body. My hands fisted the sheets, my hips bucking of their own accord as I fought against the overwhelming urge to thrust deeper into his mouth.

What in the many hells was this sorcery? My mind reeled, my thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind. I was certain I must be dreaming, for no reality I knew could contain such exquisite ecstasy.

His hands gripped my hips, holding me still as he took me deeper into his mouth. The sight of him, this powerful demon lord, with my cock disappearing between his lips was almost too much to bear. I could feel myself teetering on the edge of something monumental, a precipice from which there was no return.

“Your Grace,” I gasped, my voice laced with a mix of wonder and desperation. “I… I don’t understand. What is this? What are you doing to me?”

He released me briefly, his eyes locking with mine. “This,” he said, his voice thick with desire, “is pleasure in its purest form. And I am showing you just how exquisite it can be.”

With that, he returned his attentions to my aching cock, his mouth working me with a skill and enthusiasm that left me shaking and gasping for air. My hands fisted in the sheets, my body writhing beneath his as he drove me relentlessly toward the brink.

And then, with a final, soul-shattering suck, I was tumbling over the edge, my release crashing over me in wave after wave of mind-numbing pleasure. The duke swallowed around me, the contractions of his throat milking me for every last drop.

When he finally released me, I lay there, panting and spent, my body trembling with the aftershocks. He moved back up my body, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction and a hint of smugness that I couldn’t find it in myself to resent.

His lips claimed mine in a fervent kiss, the taste of my own essence mingling with the unique, heady flavor that was the duke. I was shaking, dazed, and utterly breathless, my mind struggling to process the intensity of what had just transpired between us.

“Well,” I managed to gasp out, my voice a mere whisper of sound, “I suppose there’s a first time for everything.”

The duke’s laugh was low and rich, the sound vibrating through his chest and into mine. “Indeed,” he murmured, his golden eyes twinkling with mirth and desire. “I look forward to many, many more firsts with you.”

He pulled away, fingers working at the fastenings of his own garments with a deftness that had me fixated. The fabric fell away like petals from a blooming flower, revealing inch by chiseled inch the raw power of his form. Gods above, was it possible for a man to be crafted with such care? His muscles rippled beneath skin that gleamed like polished obsidian in the dim light. Each contour and curve spoke of strength and virility; he was like a statue brought to life by some lustful deity’s hand.

And then my gaze dipped lower, to the evidence of his desire jutting proudly. Oh, sweet mercy. My breath hitched, heart slamming against my ribs as if seeking escape. There it was: his manhood, standing proud and formidable as the tower of Lunaria itself—a thing of beauty and terror, massive and pulsing with need, the very image of the rumors that had whispered of the duke’s insatiable appetites. The tales hadn’t done it justice; this was no mere appendage but a monument to masculine endowment.

A tremor ran through me as I considered the logistics. How in the realms would I ever manage to take such a… such a magnificent beast into my mouth? My experience in such matters was laughably nonexistent—unless one counted the occasional turnip harvested from the garden for comparison.

I shifted my gaze back to his face, my own member, still sensitive from the duke’s attentions, twitching at the sight of his arousal.

“Your Grace,” I began, my voice quivering slightly, “must I… that is, should I…?” I couldn’t bring myself to finish the question, my gaze flitting nervously to the impressive erection that seemed to demand my attention.

The duke chuckled, the sound deep and resonant. He drew me into his arms, his touch gentle despite his formidable size. “Fear not, my dear,” he said, his lips tracing a path along my jawline. “There is no rush. Tonight is all about you.”

Relief washed over me, and I let out a sigh that I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “And… and what about you?” I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me. “Don’t you… desire release as well?”

His laughter filled the room once more, his golden eyes alight with amusement. “Oh, I assure you, the desire is there,” he said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “But tonight, I wish to focus on your pleasure. There will be plenty of time for everything else.”

With that, he guided me back down onto the bed, this time positioning me face down with a pillow beneath me. I clutched at the soft fabric, my heart pounding in my chest as I felt the duke’s weight envelop me from behind like a warm, comforting blanket. His lips traced a path down my back, each kiss sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body. I closed my eyes, losing myself in the sensation of his touch, the blissful warmth of his body against mine.

This is nice, I thought hazily as pleasure suffused every nerve ending. A night of caresses and kisses seemed quite perfect indeed—until…

Lifted suddenly by strong hands, my rear now shamelessly presented to him in the air. I tensed, a mixture of anticipation and trepidation flooding through me as I felt his breath, hot and tantalizing, against my most private area. His lips brushed against my skin, and I couldn’t help but groan, my body shuddering beneath his touch. I felt another kiss—this one startlingly low on my backside.

“Your Grace,” I gasped, my voice muffled by the pillow. “Must we… there?” I wondered aloud.

The duke’s tongue darted out, tracing a path along my cleft. A jolt of pleasure shot through me, and I groaned, my body writhing beneath his ministrations. It was strange, certainly, and intensely intimate, but the sensation was undeniably exquisite.

As his tongue continued its exploration, I felt him probing at my entrance, and I couldn’t help but tense up. The sensation was overwhelming, a hot, intense heat that bordered on being too much to bear. I cried out, my body shaking as I struggled to process the flood of sensations.

“Your Grace, please,” I begged, my voice barely above a whimper. “It’s… it’s too much.”

He paused, his lips brushing against my skin as he spoke. “This, my dear Robin, is where the ultimate pleasure lies between two men,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “But do not fear. I will prepare you thoroughly, and we will go at your pace.”

His words, a balm to my frazzled nerves, promised a realm of pleasure I had scarcely imagined. The revelation sent a shock wave through me, leaving me trembling under the weight of this newfound knowledge. So this was how two men shared their bed? The thought was as terrifying as it was thrilling. I lay there, quivering with anticipation and apprehension, realizing that the act between two men was so much more than I had ever been told by hushed whispers. It was forbidden, yes, but oh so alluring in its mystery and promise of ecstasy.

For what seemed like half an hourglass turn, the duke lavished his attention upon me with a single-minded focus that bordered on reverence. His tongue was a sinful instrument, coaxing gasps and moans from me as he explored the secret crevices of my body. Each lick, each stroke was a revelation, a master class in the art of ecstasy. His fingers, slick with some unguent I dared not question, probed and teased with an expertise that left me writhing, stretching me in ways I had never imagined possible.

My mind, once a sharp and witty blade, was reduced to a state of blissful incoherence. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over me as his caresses sent ecstasy spiraling through my being. His tongue traced patterns that seared into my memory, and his fingers—oh, his fingers—they worked with a thoroughness that left me feeling utterly ravished. I lay there, my thoughts awhirl, capable only of basking in the haze of pleasure that enveloped me, reduced to a puddle of sensual mush beneath his masterful touch.

When he finally turned me onto my back, I felt as though I had been thoroughly unraveled, every thread of my being pulled taut and ready to snap at the slightest touch. My body was simultaneously boneless and pliant, floating in a haze of pleasure. There he loomed above me, a dark god of carnal desire, his golden eyes glowing with a hunger that both scared and enthralled me. I lay there, utterly exposed, as he positioned himself between my legs. The thick, heavy weight of his arousal rested against my entrance.

“If it becomes too much,” he said with an intensity that held me captive, “use your healing magic to ease your pain.”

My body tensed at his words—a cocktail of fear and excitement coursing through me. With exquisite care, he began to press forward, entering me slowly, inch by agonizing inch. I felt myself being stretched and filled in ways I had never thought possible. There was a moment of intense discomfort, a stretching burn that had me tensing, my fingers clutching at the bedsheets.

The feeling of him inside was impossibly full, a hint of pain lacing the sensation as he filled me to the brim. At first, it was strange and uncomfortable, but then, like a tide turning, pleasure began to build. It hit me in crashing waves, transforming discomfort into ecstasy. My moans filled the room as I arched off the bed, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity.

Through it all, his golden eyes never left mine, watching every flicker of emotion across my face. He kissed my forehead gently, a tender counterpoint to the passionate joining of our bodies.

“Relax, Robin,” he said. “And use your magic.”

Concentrating on my magic like never before, I directed it inward to where our bodies joined. The warmth spread through me like a sunrise chasing away the night until only pleasure remained.

“You feel so good, my little bird,” he groaned above me as he began to move within me—each thrust a stroke of ecstasy that had me clinging to him for dear life.

The pleasure was indescribable, a tidal wave of sensation that threatened to sweep me away. I arched my back, my body moving of its own accord as I adjusted to the rhythm of his thrusts. His hands were everywhere, caressing and exploring, stoking the fire within me to greater heights.

“So tight… so hot…” he groaned, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.

I squirmed beneath him, my own member twitching and hardening anew as he plundered my depths. His every movement sent shock waves of pleasure coursing through me, igniting nerves I hadn’t known existed. I clung to him, my fingers digging into the firm muscles of his back as he drove into me again and again.

The pleasure built within me, a relentless crescendo that threatened to tear me apart. My cries echoed off the stone walls, mingling with the duke’s low, guttural growls of pleasure. And then, with a final, mind-shattering thrust, I came, my release ripping through me with the force of a tempest.

But the duke did not stop. He continued to thrust, each movement sending ripples of pleasure through my oversensitive flesh. I was certain I would perish from the sheer intensity of it all, lost in a storm of pleasure so potent, it bordered on pain.

And then, without warning, he flipped us over, positioning me atop him. I straddled his hips, my body impaled upon his throbbing member as I began to move, guided by the firm grip of his hands upon my hips. I rode him with wild abandon, my body bouncing in time with his powerful thrusts. The angle was different, the penetration even deeper, and I found myself spiraling toward another release with astonishing speed.

I threw my head back, my body trembling as another wave of ecstasy crashed over me. Stars danced before my eyes, my senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure. And then, with a final, shuddering thrust, the duke found his own completion, his hot seed spilling deep within me.

Spent and boneless, I collapsed atop him, my body slick with sweat and trembling from exertion. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me close as our breathing slowly returned to normal. His lips found mine in a deep, heated kiss that left me feeling utterly claimed.

“Divine,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. “You are utterly divine, my dear Robin.”