Chapter 59 #2
I nodded, beyond words as he found the sensitive bud at the top of my aching core. His touch was more precise than anything I’d experienced before. Deliberate where my beasts had been instinctual. When he slipped a finger inside me, I gasped, my inner walls clenching around the invasion.
“Another,” I demanded, surprising myself with my boldness. “I need more.”
He obliged, adding a second finger, stretching me in a way that hinted at what was to come. I began moving on his hand, seeking more friction, more pressure. My body knew what it wanted even if my mind couldn’t quite articulate it.
“That’s it,” Alain encouraged, his eyes fixed on where his fingers disappeared inside me. “Take your pleasure. Show me what you need.”
His words unleashed something in me. I rode his hand shamelessly, chasing the building pressure. Without thinking, I reached up to cup my breasts, squeezing them the way I sometimes did in private, pinching my nipples the way that always intensified my pleasure.
Alain cursed, a string of words I’d never heard from his royal lips before. “Fuck, Isabeau. You’re perfect. So perfect when you touch yourself like that.”
His praise washed over me, fueling the fire building in my core. His fingers curled inside me, finding a spot that made stars burst behind my eyelids. I was close, so close to something I’d only felt before with my beasts.
But then he withdrew his fingers, leaving me empty and aching.
Before I could protest, he was moving, rolling us so that I lay beneath him on the soft moss floor of our tree sanctuary. His trousers were fully lowered around his knees now, and he knelt between my spread thighs, his cock poised at my entrance.
“The first time you come for me,” he said, his voice roughened by desire, “it’s going to be with my cock buried inside you. Is that what you want?”
“Yes,” I gasped, beyond shame or hesitation. “Please, my prince. I need—”
He pushed forward, the broad head of him stretching me wider than his fingers had. There was a moment of resistance, my body adjusting to his size, and then he thrust home in one smooth movement.
The sensation was overwhelming. Fullness and pressure and a slight edge of pain that quickly transformed into pleasure so intense it bordered on agony. I cried out, my back arching off the moss, my hands fisting in the material of my dress still bunched around my waist.
“Isabeau,” Alain groaned, holding himself still inside me with visible effort. “My woman of beauty, you’re so tight. So perfect.”
The pressure inside me built rapidly, a tidal wave I couldn’t stop. When Alain began to move, withdrawing almost completely before driving back in, I shattered. My release crashed through me with a violence that left me gasping, crying out his name like a prayer or a curse.
He kept moving through it, extending the pleasure until I was trembling beneath him. His pace increased, becoming more urgent, more primal. His face above me was transformed by pleasure and concentration, sweat beading on his brow as he chased his own release.
“I’m close,” he warned, his rhythm faltering. “I need to pull out—”
“No.” The word was out before I’d fully formed the thought. My body clenched around him reflexively, refusing to let him go. “Stay. I want it inside.”
He looked startled, then almost panicked as his control slipped. “Isabeau, I can’t—I’m going to—”
A fierce possessiveness overtook me. I locked my legs around his waist, keeping him deep. “Give it to me,” I demanded. “All of it. Make me yours.”
Something was happening that I didn’t fully understand. My body seemed to be gripping him tighter, making it physically difficult for him to withdraw. Alain noticed it too, his eyes widening.
“My beauty, your cunt is gripping me like a vise,” he groaned, the crude language sending another spike of pleasure through me. “I can’t—I can’t pull out.”
His hands found my breasts, kneading them with desperate passion as his hips jerked erratically.
With a final, guttural cry, he came, his release hot and pulsing inside me.
The hot gush seared along my inner skin, lathering me with my own slick.
The sensation triggered another, smaller climax of my own, my body milking his for every drop.
When I inhaled sharply, I caught our scents merging. A manly aroma with my sweeter one. I wanted more, but I physically could not handle it.
When it was over, he collapsed beside me, careful not to crush me with his weight.
We lay there panting, sweat cooling on our skin, the amber light casting everything in a golden glow.
His arms came around me, pulling me against his chest in a gesture that felt oddly more intimate than what we’d just shared.
“Are you all right?” he asked, his voice soft with concern.
I nodded, still trying to process the intensity of what had just happened. My body had responded to him in ways I hadn’t expected, hadn’t known it could. As if it recognized something in him that my conscious mind was only beginning to understand.
“What happened at the end?” he asked. “I couldn’t... I couldn’t pull out. It was like your body was holding me in.”
I bit my lip, uncertain how to explain something I barely understood myself. “I think... I think it’s the magic. My body wanted your seed. It wanted you to merge with me.” The words sounded primitive spoken aloud, but they felt true.
He didn’t laugh or look disgusted. Instead, his expression turned thoughtful, his hand absently stroking my hair. “Like a claiming of your own.”
Yes. That was exactly it. Something primal in me had claimed him, just as my beasts had claimed me.
On impulse, I shifted in his arms, exposing my shoulder where the claiming mark from my beasts formed an overlapping circle of three. The center remained unmarked, as if waiting.
“Bite me,” I said, guiding his mouth to the empty space. “Here. In the center of the rings.”
He hesitated only a moment, searching my eyes for certainty.
Finding it, he lowered his mouth to my shoulder and bit down, barely breaking the skin, leaving his mark on my flesh forever.
A jolt of pleasuring pain shot through me, and for a brief moment, I felt all four of them connected.
My three beasts with Alain, linked through me in ways I couldn’t fully comprehend.
When he pulled back, his eyes were filled with wonder and a possessiveness that matched my own. “What happens now?” he asked.
I shook my head, settling back against his chest. “I don’t know. But we’re stronger together. All of us.”
The forest waited outside our sanctuary, with all its dangers and mysteries.
Gaspard hunted us. The witch plotted. My beasts suffered.
But for now, in this moment of peace carved out of chaos, I allowed myself to believe that we might all find a way to survive together.
That I could have all of my men in the end, even if it was in blissful bubbles like this tree house I’d created.