Chapter 28 #2
“I’m unconvinced,” he said flatly, his body shifting while a disappointed expression masked his intent.
I propped myself up on my elbows and looked him square in the eye. “I am the Queen of Devana,” I said confidently, owning it. Believing it. Claiming my rightful title.
“And I don’t intend to let you forget!” Vastion lunged downward, his hands finding the fabric between my legs.
The seams gave way with a sharp, gratifying protest as he tore them aside, pressing his mouth against my center.
The sudden heat had me bucking against him, my hips seeking an escape I didn’t truly want.
He caught me, his free hand pinning my waist in place with bruising strength, and began to swipe his tongue in a relentless, rapid rhythm that decimated my senses.
His pace was unforgiving. I felt the coil of my muscles tighten, every fiber of my being drawing taut in an agonizing, exquisite response.
The unforgiving stone beneath me barely registered through the waves of pleasure.
My breathless panting consumed the silence.
He pulled my thighs over his shoulders as he knelt at the far end, tugging me closer, tighter against his face.
Never had a man taken me with such vigor.
I tried to ignore thoughts of just how long of a life Vastion had lived to perfect this skill and instead chose to bask in the way he worshiped me at this altar.
Occasionally, he’d release his grasp on my thighs and run both his hands along my rib cage, down my hips, and then squeeze the sides of my rear before burying his face deeper.
I writhed unrestrained against his tongue and the pleasure he drew, until he sent me to the edge by introducing one finger and then another.
The motion of his tongue and fingers in sync was divine, and each time I moaned he rewarded my cries of rapture.
He lifted his head for a moment, keeping his two fingers in place and continuing his languid motions, making it hard for me to concentrate on his words.
“Es?”
“Yes,” I answered, lifting my head up.
“I’m sorry.”
“What for?” I asked, confused.
“This,” he said at the same time he pushed a third finger into me, drawing an audible gasp as I tightened around his hand.
The pressure increased, making me want even more.
His deft fingers worked me into a frenzy and my muscles contracted and pulsed in rhythm with his movements.
My arousal drenched his fingers as he wrenched forth my climax, followed by the sound of an all-consuming cry of pleasure.
My muscles melted into the surface beneath me and my skin prickled all over, my senses struggling to keep up.
Vastion moved up onto the pedestal, positioning me between his knees, one of my legs over his shoulder, the other thigh lazily bent at his side. With this vantage he could have taken me fully, but I was apprehensive despite how I craved it.
He pulled at the strings of my corset, loosening the vest entirely. His voice low and husky, he teased, “You know…I’ve been holding out on you, dear wife.”
“I thought you had promised worship?” I said coyly, still trying to catch my breath and come down from the high.
“I am intensely devout—but are you certain you want to hear my prayers?” he questioned me with a raised brow and expectant smile.
“Confess to me,” I challenged.
Vastion leaned forward and traced my throat with his fingertips before gently trailing them atop my breast. Suddenly, there was a faint vibration from his hand.
He leaned forward and traced a line from my throat to the top of my breast, a subtle flutter in his fingertips.
The tightness in my chest began to unravel as he instead quested farther down my stomach, the flutter in his hands turning to a feverish pulsation that sent shudders of arousal from my belly to my core.
The lower his fingers travelled, the more my body ached for him.
“Please,” I said, just above a whisper, attempting to contort my body and slide further up, forcing his hand downward.
The intensity grew ever stronger as he moved closer to my sex, slickening with even greater expectation.
I could fight the feeling no longer and instead relished in its temptation.
Grasping at my own bared breast for relief, I squeezed it hard before steadying myself against the chaise beneath me.
My grip loosened, however, as the stone’s slick surface offered only temporary stability.
“Please what?” he goaded, refusing to give me what I wanted most.
“Please, My King!” I begged, remembering the night we first met and how in a turn of events the Lady of Leto now lay undone, splayed out before the Vampyr King, waiting for him to show her what pleasures existed beyond her wildest imagination.
At my one true show of deference toward my husband, he finally acquiesced and slid his fingers deep inside of me.
With his other hand, he placed a single finger atop my clit and strengthened the vibrations three-fold, my nerves surging to an otherworldly place.
Such inexplicable sensation forced a shrill cry from my lips, followed by a cadence of moans as his fingers began to thrust rapidly in and out of me.
My body quivered at the astounding tremors that electrified the bundle of nerves in concert with the deep thrusts of his undulating hand.
Just when I thought there was nothing more he could draw from me, both hands worshipped with unfathomable seismic fervor.
I felt myself tightening uncontrollably, rolling my hips against him to create more friction, letting myself climb even higher before the inevitable fall.
I lifted my chest up, the leverage allowing me to succumb to the depths of my demise.
He moved in unison with me, and my trembling finally gave way to a violent release.
Vastion’s hand then found my neck, his fingers gripping just beneath my jaw to force my head back.
He compelled me to meet his gaze, even as my eyes watered from the blinding peak of our exchange.
He studied every fleeting emotion that flickered across my face, watching as I cried out into the final pulse of my release. Only then did my body go limp, sinking into the cold, unyielding stone of the bed beneath us.
My husband leaned forward and brushed aside an errant strand of hair matted to my brow.
“My how stunning ‘unbecoming’ looks on you, My Queen.”
Though my energy was depleted, his words roused me, and I bravely reached for the waistline of his britches. He grabbed my hand gently and removed it.
“Don’t worry; you’ll have your turn to prove it. I just needed you to see how much I wanted you first.”