5. SOREN
Five
SOREN
The treaty signing is outside on a terrace overlooking the sea. There are cameras everywhere, and both of our flags flapping in the wind. Tariq makes a short speech, and I keep an even shorter one. “The fighting ends today. Our people deserve better.”
Layla stands next to me in a fitted green dress that makes her ass look fucking criminal. We sign the peace treaty side by side. Then I slide my hand to the small of her back… for the pictures. She tenses but doesn’t step away.
Then Tariq suggests a joint training session. “Let the people see their future king and queen respect each other’s strength.”
The training yard is open to the sky, surrounded by stone walls, sand under our feet. Layla shows up in black training gear that hugs every fucking one of her curves. She’s wearing a sports bra and tight shorts, bare midriff, and I know I’ve already lost…
We start with hand-to-hand. She’s good. Fast, strong for her size, uses her opponent’s body for leverage.
I block her strikes but let her get in close on purpose.
Our bodies collide, our sweat mixes. Every time I grab her waist or arm, my hands look fucking massive on her.
And I fucking love it. My golden tan against her deep brown. Huge and hard meeting curvy and strong.
“You fight like you’re still at war,” I say.
“And you fight like you think you can just take whatever the fuck you want,” she shoots back, landing a solid hit to my ribs.
I grin, huffing out a grunt. “I usually can.”
I catch her, spin her, and pull her back against my chest. My arm bands across her stomach, the other holding her wrist. Her thick ass presses right against my cock, which doesn’t help with the situation in my pants that’s been going on since I landed on this island…. Layla freezes.
“Got you,” I murmur against her ear.
For a second she just breathes, ass snug against me. Then she twists, trying to break free. I let her go but stay close.
We move to the mats. She ends up on her back with me between her thighs. My hips press against hers. I’m fully hard, thick cock trapped against her pussy through our clothes. Her eyes widen, then narrow into a deathly glare.
“Feel that?” I ask low, rolling my hips. “That’s what you do to me, Princess.”
“You’re a fucking jerk, Vinterfjord,” she spits out between clenched teeth.
“Yeah. And you’re soaked for me, future wife.”
She doesn’t deny it. Instead, she rolls her hips back, grinding against my length. My jaw clenches. Low fucking blow.
“Tonight I’m not stopping at thinking about you, princess,” I tell her. “I want my hands on your body. My mouth. I want to spread your thighs and taste how wet that enemy pussy gets for me.”
Her breath catches. “We’re in public, asshole.”
“I don’t care.” I rock against her, slow and deliberate. “I’ve been thinking about bending you over since the second I saw you. Filling you until you’re dripping my cum. Breeding you so deep you’re carrying my kid before the month is out.”
Her nipples are hard against her top. She looks like she wants to kill me and fuck me at the same time. Fucking perfect.
Then someone clears their throat, and we break apart. The session ends with both of us sweaty and wired.
I grab Layla’s hand and pull her into a shaded alcove. Making my move before she can walk away. No one’s watching. I back her against the warm stone wall, crowd her with my body.
“Tell me to stop,” I say.
She grabs my tank instead, yanking me down. Our mouths crash together. Hungry. I kiss her like I’ve been starving, tongue sliding against hers while my hands roam. One palm squeezes her ass, the other cups one heavy tit, thumb brushing her nipple. She moans into my mouth.
I press my thigh between her legs. She grinds on it shamelessly, riding the muscle while I kiss her deeper. My cock aches, trapped against her stomach.
“Fuck, Layla,” I growl. “You feel how big I am? This is going inside you soon. Gonna stretch this pussy wide open and pump you full.”
She bites my lower lip. “You talk too much.”
I chuckle and slide my hand into her shorts, under her panties. She’s drenched. I groan, pushing two thick fingers inside her. She’s tight. Hot. She gasps and clenches around me.
“That’s it. Ride my fingers like you’re going to ride my cock later.”
She does. Hips rolling, chasing the friction. I add a third finger, and she comes hard, muffling her cry against my shoulder, pussy pulsing around me.
I pull my hand out and lick my fingers clean while she watches, eyes glazed. “Tastes like mine already.”
“This doesn’t mean I like you,” she breathes.
“Don’t have to like me. Just have to take me. Every night until that belly starts to swell.”
I leave her there flushed and pissed off and turned on.
I’m done waiting.