Chapter 34
FELORé
Heat was radiating throughout my body, melting in tides down my chest and torso like drips of hot candle wax.
It was an animal inside me. An urgent beast. A lust unlike anything I’d ever felt, such that I couldn’t see past the pink mist flooding my vision.
The tangy and intoxicating taste in my mouth.
I was hollow without him. There was an emptiness inside me that only he could fill. He didn’t understand that no one else could fill it, and it had to be filled.
My dark fucking prince. My future king. My Alek.
“Open the door!” My fist stung from where I banged it over and over.
He was there. I knew he was there; so close. I could sense him.
“Alek,” I begged, scratching the door with my nails. “You have to come back. It hurts so bad. I need you.”
Voices, sounds, thoughts other than my own bled throughout the rubble of my mind, their volumes blaring loudly one second, only to quiet to a whisper the next. Something about a soup. You feed mine and I feed yours. I knew what I had to do, but why? I couldn’t remember why.
“Alek,” I said, the word muffled. I was licking the door?
Yes, I was licking the woodgrain of the door, trying to taste him. Trying to taste the perfection of his mouth—the heat and spice and sin.
“Stretch me open,” I whispered. “Break me apart. Consume me.”
My cock sprang forth, painfully hard, overly sensitized when I pushed the flimsy fabric down my legs, wincing as I fisted it in my hand. It throbbed in need of him. Everything inside me needed him.
“You said you’d lick me,” I whispered onto the door, punished by the visual of his burning eyes. “You said you’d lick me, Alek. That you wouldn’t stop licking until I begged. You remember that?”
It was so quiet, but he was there. I was so attuned with his presence that I could feel it. I could smell him. Him. Him. Him.
“I need to be licked,” I whispered, thrusting my hips against the door. “Please don’t leave me alone like this. Please—”
A pop behind me. A glare of light.
I gasped as I spun around to find every candle in the room roaring to life in bright and wild flames.
My chuckle was mad sounding as I let my hooded eyes fill with their glowing beauty, flickering in a hundred different reflections of themselves.
“You’re here,” I whispered, gripping my cock, gazing upon the evidence of his presence.
“I’m here,” came a voice behind the door so blaringly sexy that I moaned into the candlelit darkness.
“I need to come,” I murmured, more primitive grunts than words as I stroked myself, spine arching from the door.
“You perfect fucking human,” he said, his voice rich and deep, and my cock stiffened painfully at the sound. “You have no idea how badly I want to make you come.”
I writhed against the door.
“I’d kill, Feloré. I’d die. You are perfection. Nothing in this kingdom compares to how perfect you taste.”
I slid my eyes to the door. “Then come back and drink me.”
“I cannot.”
“You can, Prince,” I cried, continuing to stroke, but it wasn’t enough. It had to be him. “I need to come.”
“I know you do, baby.”
“Then make me—”
That was when I felt it.
I gasped at the phantom hand cupped over my mouth. A hand that was as cold as it was hot. As icy as it was molten. It was searing my face, as long, elegant fingers stroked my lips, two of them slipping inside my mouth, penetrating it.
My inhale was uneven as the sensation seared my mouth, as my tongue rolled against nothing. There was no taste, but if there was, it’d be soaking wet ash and frozen fire. It was so illogical, but it was him.
With shaking fingers, I touched my face to feel him, but there was nothing there. My pats turned manic as I touched everywhere to feel him, but I couldn’t feel him. He was gone. He was gone.
Easy.
The command came from within my own head the same time his fingers entered my mouth deeper.
Ease your mind, it seemed to say. You cannot see, but you don’t need to see. You simply need to trust that I’m there.
I let my eyes roll shut and followed the light of his intention like it was real.
Then it was real. If I concentrated, if I got still, I could feel them. I could feel the outline of his bone and flesh, working their way inside my mouth.
And if I could feel it then I could touch it.
I tried again, slipping my fingers over his, and this time, they were fully real. I could feel the weight of his strong hands. I could touch their warmth as they wandered from my mouth and down my neck.
It was just like the first time. When he possessed me and wrapped his hands around my neck. I could feel the weight of his reddened gaze sharp on me.
“Choke me,” I heard myself whisper into the shadows.
The shadows answered.
My eyes flared wide when his hand tightened around my throat. I swallowed, pinned back against the door as a glorious, tingling line of hunger shot straight to my cock.
Harder he squeezed. Then harder. Hard enough to restrict my breath to a wheeze as I melted against the door. Then a kiss. I felt lips pressed against mine—stinging cold; sorely hot—as I gasped for the air that only he controlled.
Oh, my gods, what bliss. I had no words. I had nothing but gaping awe as another hand emerged from nowhere, slipping and sliding down my torso, scraping it with ghostly nails.
“On your knees.”
The command was so strong that I jolted against the door at the same time the hands vanished from around my neck, and in seconds, I was hitting my knees.
“You want me to lick you?” he asked.
My voice was a breathy mess as I answered, “Yes.”
“Then show yourself to me,” he said. “Show me your pretty little hole.”
I crawled forward onto my hands, arching my spine, exposing myself to my dark demon like he demanded.
Two hands—heavy and strong—parted my ass cheeks wide, and I exhaled long and slow, bowing my chest down to the cold marble, collapsing as I surrendered. This was real. I could feel him clear as day, and I never wanted anything more.
What came next was illogical. It was his tongue.
How it was wet, I had no idea, but it was. It was soaking with dark magic and gliding over my hole so slowly, thick and wide, fire and ice.
His hands pulled me apart wider; so wide that it stung as he continued to swirl his tongue around my sensitive hole.
Maybe, there were more hands than two. Maybe there weren’t. Maybe, there were so many that I couldn’t keep track as they dragged their hot fingers down the length of my spine, keeping my mind guessing where they would explore next.
Perfect.
The voice was within my skull, vibrating off the walls as his warm breath scattered over my ass.
What a pretty, perfect little hole you have.
My eyes shot open when sharp teeth scraped across my ass, un-fucking-mistakable as he kissed my hole, alternating between lips and tongue and teeth while his thick tongue flattened against my sensitive opening, soaking me, tasting me.
And then I felt it. He pressed the tip of his ghost tongue inside me.
I didn’t recognize the sound that roiled from my throat, echoing through the room as my spine bowed in an even more exaggerated arch.
“Yes,” I said, thrusting my hips back into him the same time a deep demonic snarl slid through my skull.
My needy human. The voice was otherworldly and wild as a thorned rose. Tell me you want it.
“Gods, yes,” I whispered. “I want it.”
You want my tongue inside you, my hungry human?
“Yes.”
Say it.
“I want your tongue inside—” I gasped when he pressed it further.
Then I gasped again because holy gods, it was way more than just the tip, and my mouth fell open wide as a warm sting sliced through me.
“What were you saying?” he asked, but I didn’t know, and it didn’t fucking matter.
“You,” I breathed, edging myself back against him, moaning when his long tongue inched further. And further. “You’re fucking filthy.”
“And you love it.” It was a husky string of harmonious Vultaen, too posh for how filthy he was. “Where is my tongue right now, human?”
“Inside me,” I breathed, smacking the floor with my palm when it pushed even further, lost to sensation and the unknown thrill of what he’d do next while stinging, tender pleasure engulfed me as I opened for him. As he took it so far. Too deliciously far.
This ass is MINE.
The word mine rippled and tremored inside my mind, repeating itself until it was all I could hear as my breath sizzled between my teeth.
“It is,” I was slurring, my cheek pressed against the cold marble. “It is yours.”
How could it not be? When his sinfully long ghost tongue was filling me, commanding me, making me writhe helplessly against the floor.
Hands were encircling my wrists. Encircling my throat. Splaying across my lower back and chest and everywhere and gods, it was good. It was so fucking good that my eyes rolled into my skull.
I’d never felt anything like it as his tongue lashed against that spot in the front of my groin. That fucking spot. He was exactly where I needed him to be.
The future king of Novithia was milking me raw, his long tongue upbraiding it inside me like the lashes of a wet whip.
The future king of Novithia was more than just a king. He was a fucking god.
My knees trembled as I rocked back against him, pressure building quickly in my groin. I was going to explode. I was going to shatter.
You are throbbing, his demonic voice scraped at the insides of my mind.
I was. I was throbbing, and I was his. As far as he wanted to take it. As brutal as he wanted to be.
My mind was mush. My body was overrun with so much sensation, too much sensation such that everything pulsated in it. My cock pulsated. My head pounded. I squeezed my hands into fists, yanking uselessly at the invisible force pinning my wrists together, while my vision spotted in dots of black.
“Don’t stop,” I panted against the cold marble.
Fucking scream.
“Don’t stop!”
With my royal name on your trembling lips.
“Alek,” I whimpered, fogging the marble with my breath as he fucked me with his tongue. “Don’t stop, Alek.”
Take it, human. Take all of it.
With his royal name on my trembling lips, I was taking it. As he tongue-fucked me so thick—in and out, in and out, in and out—I was coming.
“My dark prince,” I whispered as my body crested an arc. “I’m coming.”
Streams of white couldn’t rocket out fast enough, tearing from me, one right after another, everywhere, everywhere, while he snarled through my mind, possessing my thoughts until they were consumed by him. Random words spoken in a glittering stream of chaos.
Beautiful. Exquisite. Hot. White. My human. My love. Perfect. You’re perfect.
I was truly filled with him, every piece of me, inside and out.
I’d never had it happen quite like this. It’d never shaken so hard or sweated so much as every last drop drained from me, bleeding me of my brainpower until I was empty. A writhing, wet mess on the damp marble floor.
This dark prince. He’d done it all with a tongue that didn’t even exist.
I didn’t feel his ghost tongue leave. I only felt the absence of its presence and my hole puckering, hating to let go, but he receded like a shadow in the sun.
The hands were gone, too. Everything was suddenly gone.
“No,” I whispered to no one, trying to push myself up, a string of drool connecting me to the floor. But my body collapsed into a vulnerable, helpless heap. “Don’t leave, Alek. Please.”
I could hear him coughing from the other room, the sound horrendous and wet, like he was drowning, choking underwater. Like he was struggling to breathe.
My eyes jolted open. “Alek—”
I’m right here, baby. Icy hot arms wrapped around me from behind, curled so snugly against me that I untensed one muscle at a time.
Euphoria was running through my veins instead of blood, and his arms around me were the only thing I needed.
But I could almost swear, someone was coughing from the other room. Wet, awful, and never ending. “Is that you, Alek? Are you coughing—?”
Shhh, Snow Fox, said the voice as fingers stroked my hair. Don’t worry your head. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.
The drugs in my system were weighing me down as the coughing dimmed more and more into the distance.
I let my eyelids drift shut, sleep darkening my vision as he held me tight in a blazing warmth that folded all around me until it didn’t even feel like a floor I was lying upon.
It was like I was suspended, floating in balmy oil and sweet darkness.
Sleep, beautiful human, a demonic voice whispered inside my skull. Sleep.
The sting of something cold touched my forehead.
It was almost as if I’d been kissed by a ghost.