Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Kong
The time-fire bathes the room in a crimson glow, radiating warmth behind me.
I should not fucking do this.
I watch her slowly undress. My breath catches.
I've seen the outline of her body, glimpses of skin and leg in her nightgown, far more when she was painted gold, but seeing her like this, bare and trembling before me, takes my breath away.
I widen my thighs as my cock expands. My gaze drags down her body, from the honey-coloured hair that cascades down her back and over her shoulders, to her small ankles.
My little queen's breasts are small but round, pebbled with taut peach nipples.
The curve at her waist, the gap below her bald pussy. I groan, feeling my cock flex.
Fuck me, I want her.
But… I’m her Guardian.
I watch her tremble as she crawls onto the mattress. I should wrap a blanket around her, but I don’t move. Looming over her, my body casts a shadow on her naked form.
I’m her solace and shield.
My little queen.
Fuck, no woman is more forbidden, none more fragile and precious. Touching her is like trespassing on sacred ground. Licking her pussy is like desecrating it.
I rub my rough jaw, drinking her in, fighting my urges. The little queen parts her lips, anxious, intimidated. By me?
Fuck…
“Do you like what you see?” she asks, each word fluttering with nerves.
“Oh, yes,” I rasp.
Touching her breaks my vows to The Trade, shatters my loyalties to her brother, but I can’t deny the carnal belief carved into my mind—into my cells. This little queen is mine in every way.
Before she was The Cradle’s queen, she used to be the world’s sunshine, until that fateful night. I wonder if I can put some of that sparkle— of thrill and enthusiasm—back into her honey-coloured gaze.
Who am I to deny my queen?
I lower my hand, remove my shirt, belt, and boots, but leave my pants on, and prowl onto the mattress.
She watches me. Her gaze follows the black ink etched into my skin, examining each interconnecting piece until she can’t anymore. Until I am hovering over her.
Her eyes meet mine.
Only inches away.
Setting my elbows on either side of her, I hold my weight. Creating a cage with my body over her naked figure, I've never felt more... never felt more. This is right. Where I should be. Protective. Obeying her body and what it demands from me. Not The Trade. Not Rome. I obey her.
“Kiss me,” she whispers.
“As you wish, little queen.”
She closes her eyes and pouts her lips toward me in the sweetest display of inexperience and vulnerability.
I linger over her puckered mouth, sucking the queen of The Cradle's breath into my lungs. I kiss her lower lip, and she moans into my mouth. I kiss her top lip.
I kiss her.
Gentle.
Dominant.
Leading.
Learning.
"Fuck," I groan, dragging my mouth down to her chin, leaving her gasping. At her soft throat, I kiss her again. Lower—my lips glide along her collarbone, tender, exploratory. I want to remember every inch of her.
Tiny blonde hairs rise all over her skin. I nibble at her clavicle, then drag my tongue downward, memorizing, mapping. She is the most sacred territory.
She arches and rolls beneath me, chasing my affection, responding to my touch, begging for more.
I move on my elbows, lowering myself to meet her small breasts. They have never been sucked, never been tasted… and now they are mine. Her nipples meet my eager mouth, and I worship her sensitive peaks, savouring the way they respond to my dark, possessive kiss.
Her soft moans fill the air, and I shower her with the reverence she deserves. Sucking, licking, and kissing her, while her uncertain yet demanding fingers weave into my hair, urging me closer, demanding more.
“Mine,” she says.
“Yes, little queen,” I murmur, “yours.”
Unable to pull away from her skin, I trace my tongue down her trembling stomach, leisurely licking and kissing a hot trail until I am spreading her thighs with my shoulders.
Fuck me…
She smells of fresh oranges, and I can’t get enough of her scent.
I lean in, my gaze fixed on her pretty pussy, completely bare, her tight lips hinting at the warm, inviting depths I would trade my last breath to sink my cock into.
To feel her grip me like a vice. To feel her take me and own me as I claim what is mine.
"This is how it should have been, little queen. You and me. Privacy. So your moans are mine, the shape your body makes when you come is mine, the smell of your arousal is mine. And mine alone," I whisper, lowering my mouth to envelop her soft, wet flesh, sucking as my tongue dips in and out.
She mewls, squirming and bunching the sheets at her sides in little fists of determination. Her feet rest on my shoulder blades. Toes curling into my muscles. She is my tiny queen, and I will consume her whole.
I fuck her with my tongue, learning what she likes.
I’m not an arrogant prick who believes all women react the same.
Each unique. I study her pussy with my tongue, paying attention to each ripple.
I listen to her, the catch of her breath—timing, pressure, precision. I want to know her inside and out.
"Oh,” she moans, and I catch a hitch in her breath, note the moments of silence when she tenses, only to collapse into a moan, squirming and letting go.
Lapping my tongue up to her clit, I tease the hood, creating tight circles that shrink and shrink until I bear down on those lovely nerves.
She cries out, and I glance up to watch her chest rise, her chin tilt toward the ceiling, eyes close as if she cannot take anymore stimulation.
I thumb her clit—an easy mark—so I can take a moment to admire my little queen while she comes undone. Enjoying this new sensation.
A surge of possessiveness fills me. She is the single most stunning sight in existence. I look back at her glistening pussy.
“This beautiful pussy,” I murmur, “is mine now.”
Her fingers dig into my hair. “And your lips and tongue are mine!”
A deep chuckle leaves me. “My little queen is possessive?”
“Promise me,” she whispers. “There will be no one else. I’ll have you executed.”
I all out laugh at that, earning me a swat from her hand. “As you wish,” I say, sucking her into my mouth again.
She underestimates my obsession and devotion. Since that night in her bed, when I realised she was the main character in my story, there has been no other. If it’s not her, then it’s no one.
The fabric of my pants stretches around my thickening cock, restricting me as I shift closer, groaning in ecstasy as I feast on her.
When my tongue leaves her throbbing little clit, she makes weak sounds of protest. So, I plunge deep into her channel.
She sighs with sheer relief.
Feeling the resistance from her inner muscles around my tongue—so tight—I grind my erection against the mattress.
Too tight. So wet.
Fuck, I want her.
"Deeper," she urges, her hips moving rhythmically with my tongue, and I revel in the way she responds, her body undulating with need. A queen’s insatiable need.
I stop to talk to her. "No, little queen. I will not open you.”
“D-do I have a hymen?”
I gaze up at her. “You don’t know?”
Her cheeks flush. “M-maybe it was damaged when…”
Darkness mists my vision at her soft, vulnerable utterance.
Fuck them.
Rebellion draws my brows in. I use my thumb to explore the beginning of her pussy, feeling the thin, elastic film immediately. I pull my thumb out. “You have a hymen, and I’ll never let you go if I taste your blood."
“Don’t let me go…”
My heart aches.
I don’t want to.
I practically snarl, sucking her back into my mouth. She grips me harder, her fingers biting at my scalp, demanding more. More, more, more, her body writhes with that message. Her hips lift into my greedy mouth with maddening need.
It takes every ounce of my restraint not to pull out my cock and fuck my fist while I indulge in the most forbidden pussy in the land. I relish this moment, using my thumb on her clit, circling it with a quick, relentless rhythm as I spear my thick tongue deeper into her clinging channel.
“Ahh!” she cries out coming into my mouth, leaking down my tongue and chin, her heedless enjoyment melodic and husky. I kiss the sensitive flesh, savouring every drop of her essence, starving for her.
She lays her forearm over her eyes, panting. I massage the tight muscles in her thighs, kneading up and down.
I crawl up her body.
Whimpering the sweetest sounds, she offers no resistance as I pull her against my chest, tucking her in the curve of my body.
"This version of you belongs to me, little queen.
You aren't safe from my thoughts now. Know I'll be craving you every moment, waiting for your command to eat your pussy.
" I hold her gently in my arms, feeling her shake with sensation.
"Good girl. Relax. I’ve got you. No more secrets, little queen. "
She sniffles. "Okay."