Chapter XXVI Wife
XXVI Wife
“The oil,” he says at last, sitting on his heels between my spread knees. “Open wider, pet. Let them see. Such a pretty cunt, so drenched for me. For us.”
He pushes my legs apart, my knees falling to the sides.
Khay hands him a small, glass bottle, and Magnar grins as he unstoppers it, tipping it right over my mound.
I gasp when cool oil splashes my overheated, sensitive flesh, the wetness making my insides clench with want.
The scent of roses fills the air, and Magnar licks his lips.
“There. You could take one finger just fine. Let’s try two.”
He swirls them at my entrance, coating them in the oil, then pushes in slowly. I gasp, tensing when it burns. Magnar shakes his head, fake pity glittering in his eyes.
“You want to take me, don’t you, pet? You can’t help being this tight. Poor darling. If you could, you’d stretch this pussy yourself to fit us all, wouldn’t you? Greedy girl.”
I shake my head heavily, but we all see how my stomach tenses with a fresh wave of need. Magnar’s smile grows sly, and he withdraws fast, making me hiss.
“Ow, did that hurt?” he asks with mock concern. “My prize hates being empty, does she? Ask me for my fingers back, pet. Say, ‘stuff me full, Magnar.’ Go on.”
I stare at him with indignation, my face flaming from this new debauchery. He waits, eyes narrowing as he studies me, and I try to speak, only a hoarse sound coming out of my tight throat. My entire body throbs with want, and the sheets between my legs are obscenely wet and sticky.
“Magnar, you’re torturing us all,” Raduna growls. “Just fuck her. Please. You can play next time.”
Magnar tsks and shakes his head. “The queen is strong and capable, aren’t you, pet? You can say a few simple words. Now tell me. What would you like me to do with my fingers?”
I close my eyes in mortification and make myself say it.
“S-stuff me full, Magnar. Please.”
The collective intake of breath from my husband and knights makes me open my eyes. They all stare at me with new intensity, faces flushed, and I understand they liked me saying it. Pity, because I don’t think I can repeat that indecency.
“As you wish, my queen,” Magnar says, pushing back inside with two fingers.
My hips buck, the stretch uncomfortable, yet delightful.
The oil lets him move easily, and he buries his fingers as far as they can go, then slides them in and out.
My head falls back with a sob, and I dig my nails into the mattress, doing my best to breathe as tension fills my belly.
Slowly, it gets easier, the edge of pain almost gone, though not quite.
When Magnar leans over me and takes my lips in a possessive kiss, I moan into his mouth, my tongue clumsy yet eager as it strokes his.
He grunts, letting the kiss deepen while he works me, squelching noises coming from between my legs.
I hurt myself on his sharp tooth, and he doesn’t stop, sucking on my lip, devouring my mouth despite the faint taste of blood.
“I need to take my fill now,” he growls, pulling back. “I won’t be able to kiss you when I’m inside you, pet. That’s my only regret, for you’re lovely, but too short. I love to kiss when I fuck.”
“I’m… I’m too short?” I manage to say, a burst of indignation giving me strength. “It’s you who are too big. A beast.”
He grins and gives me a punishing kiss. “A beast that got you wetter than you’ve ever been, you sweet, lovely thing. Move your hips now. Fuck yourself on my hand. Go on.”
I shake my head, pure embarrassment holding me still. I already look ungainly and pitiful, wide open and flushed, my private parts glistening obscenely. My movements won’t be elegant or enticing.
But Magnar is merciless. “I want to see how much you want it. Show me how willing this cunt is, my prize. You promised, didn’t you? How much is your word worth, Caliane?”
I sob through clenched teeth. “I knew I was right to dread this.”
“You dreaded my cock,” he says dismissively. “I feel your inner workings, pet. I feel exactly how much you love it, so do as I say. Give your knights a show so they have something to stroke their cocks to if you deny them later.”
“Haven’t they seen plenty already?” I ask, shaking my head with despair even as I bring my feet closer, pushing my heels into the mattress.
“We’ll never have enough of you. That’s it. Beautiful. Just like… Fuck, Caliane. I’ll have to cut my third claw for next time. Look at you taking it. You’d like to be stuffed more, wouldn’t you?”
My thighs tremble and burn as I rock haltingly, moving my hips in wanton ways. He helps me, his big hand cupping my buttock, his fingers sliding back and forth, and it is so easy now, like there’s room for more. I can’t answer him.
My cup of depravity is full for tonight, and I’d be so ashamed of myself if not for my husband licking his lips with obvious desire as he watches me, or my knights lasciviously stroking their hard lengths.
I’ve never been the center of attention like this. Like I am the axis their worlds turn around. It makes my body quicken and burn.
“Have you committed this to memory, brothers?” he asks.
They nod and murmur in confirmation. Arvi breathes laboriously, his eyes only open a crack, but he watches without blinking. They all do.
“Well then.”
Magnar twists his hand until his thumb rests on my clit, his fingers thrusting in my easy, oiled heat.
I keen, pressing my forearm to my mouth to muffle it, the pleasure almost too great to bear.
Yet I move my hips faster, feeling it there, right on the edge.
It will only take a little more, and I’ll plunge again, and oh gods, I would beg for it if he told me to.
My husband is magnanimous, though, and doesn’t make me.
“I couldn’t have wished for a sweeter wife,” he says, voice low and focused. “You are the sweetest, the loveliest prize I could have wanted. Such a beautiful girl. So powerful, taking her pleasure. Show me, love. Show me how well you take it.”
My body locks, muscles trembling on the verge of exhaustion, and I come on his fingers, whining into my forearm like a hurting animal. He caresses me through it until I collapse, entirely spent, eyes bleary.
“Now that’s how you take care of a wife,” Magnar says, eyes glittering with mischief. “She can’t run from me now. Try, pet. Try running from the big, scary cock.”
I blink heavily, my arm dropping to the side. “Mmm. No running. Always keep my word.”
“You do, don’t you?” His voice grows peculiarly intense, verging on a whisper. “I should have made you vow to love me when we married. You’d try your best, I imagine. Well, no matter. I’ll love you for us both. This will hurt at first.”
I hear his words, but I barely comprehend them, watching through a daze as he settles his hips between my legs, my buttocks still raised on the pillow.
Magnar teases my clit with a lazy thumb, and I hiss, the sensation too much.
When I crane my head back, I just see his throat above me. It bobs when he swallows.
“I’m sorry, pet.”
Slick, blunt hardness presses to my opening and pushes.
There’s a moment of immense pressure, of forcing in, and then—pain.
I cry out, all weak laxness fleeing from my body as I grow taut, and it keeps going, forging a path of agony within me.
Magnar’s cock plows me open and I stretch unwillingly, my body trying to resist, helpless to stop him.
When he’s seated deep inside me, I sob in pain, and he strokes my hair with a shaky hand.
“I’m so sorry. I did my best, but you were a virgin. I’m sorry. It’s the last time it will ever hurt like this, I promise.”
I crane my neck, trying desperately to look at his face in search of comfort, and he braces himself on his palms, arching away from me until our eyes meet. I blink away tears, and he watches me with a pitying expression. His long hair tickles my arms.
“So heavy,” I say, the pain receding now that he doesn’t move, even though I know this moment of respite will be brief. “I feel it all the way inside me.”
His eyes flick down, and he exhales sharply. “Look at your belly. And it’s not even all the way in yet.”
I do, squeezing my fists tight in disbelief when I see the rounding there, a tumescent shape clearly visible through my skin and muscle.
It extends almost up to my belly button, and I reach down with a shaky hand.
My touch is light, and yet Magnar hisses as if he feels it.
The length inside me twitches in response.
I see the movement and look away, nausea gathering in my throat.
“Oh gods,” I whisper. “Am I… Am I whole? Why is it like this? It moves.”
“You are quite slim,” Raduna says when Magnar’s quiet, his breathing shaky and uneven. “That’s why it’s so visible through your flesh. If you would pull out, my king, and give the queen a moment to see if she feels well.”
“Might as well,” he says through clenched teeth. “Seeing as I came already just from seeing that. Khay, if you laugh, I swear, I’ll lock you in a dungeon.”
“I almost came from seeing it myself,” Khay says with chagrin. “No shame, brother.”
“Ready?”
I look up into Magnar’s dark, serious face, and nod.
He lowers himself to his forearms and slowly pulls out.
I gasp and moan through the process, and it seems unnecessarily long, every inch marking its way inside me, all of Magnar’s length pulling away until he’s out.
There is a mighty hot trickle, and I gasp and sit up, expecting to see blood gushing out of me, but it’s not red.
It’s pale and milky, and my face heats in understanding.
His seed. So very much of it.
Magnar doesn’t look at me, his jaw clenched, shoulders tight as he sits on the bed by my side. There is silence, heavy and foreboding until he clears his throat.
“I am sorry. I did not mean to hurt you. Nor for my performance to be so lacking.”