Chapter 7 #4
Under the weight of his gaze, my face flushes a hundred different shades. I do everything I can to ensure as little of my bare skin as possible is visible as I let go of the blanket and slip into the robe.
“Close your eyes,” he demands softly.
I obey without hesitation. That’s when I realize what he’s been holding in his fist. A blindfold, made of the softest velvet. He ties it over my eyes. The fabric is gentle against my skin, a contrast to the spike in my heartbeat as my vision disappears.
He takes hold of my arms and guides me forward, step by step, through the room.
“You know, Princess, we men don’t need a special story to get into bed with a woman. We don’t even need to know who she is, what her name is, or, in most cases, what she even looks like. As long as she has three holes, that’s enough.”
Well, his opening line doesn’t exactly bode well for his chances of seducing me. But he continues anyway.
“But for you women, sex needs a prelude, a reason, a story. A love story. Even if it’s made-up, you need to believe that what you’re doing is sacred.
The result of some grand, eternal love. You need to believe that the man claiming you, the man you’re giving your body to, worships you.
That he wants you for a lifetime, not just for a fleeting, fiery moment of lust.
The unfortunate truth is this: a man’s motivation is almost never what a romantic mind wants to believe.
But you’re good at fooling yourselves. If you weren’t, the human race would be extinct by now.”
He stops moving and takes my hand in both of his. “So now, let’s create a story for you, Lucia. A story where you’re the innocent, lovely, heroine. How does that sound?”
I don’t say a word, just listen to his deep, husky voice. My body is still tense, rigid, and full of distrust. He lets go of my hand, and from the way his voice shifts closer and farther, I can tell he’s circling me.
“In this story, you’re the only daughter of a minister. A hypocritical snake who’s kept you hidden from the world since the day you were born, saving you to sell to the highest bidder one day.”
He runs a hand through my hair, his voice edged with something like regret. “The same blonde hair… the same ocean-blue eyes…”
His fingers trail down to my neck, grazing the edge of the robe’s open collar. For the briefest moment, they brush over the delicate skin of my collarbone, tentative and fleeting. “And this flawless, soft skin...”
I hear him draw a heavy breath. Then his touch vanishes.
“You’ve never experienced love,” he murmurs. “Not even a simple kiss. Not even a stolen, nervous glance.”
Once again, I feel the warmth of his fingers on my shoulder, trailing slowly across to the other.
“You have no idea what it feels like when a man touches you because he actually wants you. The way the heat of his embrace can melt you to your core, the sheer intoxication of being held captive in his arms, the unmatched pleasure of lips meeting, teasing, and tasting one another.”
My breath catches, then comes faster, my chest rising and falling in shallow bursts. It’s getting harder to hold onto my fear, I’m slipping into his story.
“But one day, your father will decide it’s time to make the most profitable deal of his life, with you. He dresses you in your finest attire; something like a deep red gown, full skirt, slipping off your shoulders.”
His voice shifts, now coming from behind me. He tugs the robe’s collar back, his hand slipping inside. The fabric slides off my shoulders, exposing more skin as his fingers pull the edges down to the curve of my shoulders. Everywhere his fingers drag, my skin burns.
“In that gown, you attend a grand New Year’s ball in the king’s opulent palace. The hall is packed with dukes, counts, princes and princesses from every corner of the world, all dressed in lavish gowns and dripping with jewels.”
He’s right behind me now. His whisper brushes my ear, warm breath ghosting over the hollow of my neck.
“For the first time in your life, you feel alive, like you truly exist, like you belong to this vast, dazzling world. And then, suddenly, you notice the weight of someone’s gaze on you.
You search for it, turning your head, and then you see him—the king of a neighboring land, his eyes eating you up like he’s starving.
And in that moment, for the very first time, you feel it. ”
My chest rises and falls wildly. Excitement and anticipation swirl inside me.
“What do I feel?” I ask, my voice trembling.
His lips brush my other ear as he whispers, the words sinking deep, impossible to ignore.
“The pleasure of being wanted… the fiery thrill of being desired… the irresistible pull of needing a man.”
I swallow hard, my thoughts slipping to the day I first saw Tony. Yes, I’ve felt all of that.
He moves again.
“The king strides toward you with purpose. He stops in front of you and asks for a dance. Do you accept?”
I don’t even think before the word slips out. Heat rushes through my whole body, and without thinking, I murmur, “I accept.”
His voice turns approving, almost encouraging. “Good girl.”
He lifts my left hand, placing it gently on his bare waist. His right hand clasps mine, while his other hand slides to my side, resting just above my hip.
He pulls me closer, our bodies pressed together. Moving slowly, he starts to guide me, as if we’re dancing the tango. My head is light, heat pooling in my cheeks as he leads me effortlessly, like I’m a princess in his arms.
He moves me like I’m his. Like I’m worth something in his hands. And just like that, his seduction begins anew, drawing me deeper into his web.
“The king dances with you, holding you in his strong arms. As he pulls you closer, he tells you that you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.”
The hand that had been resting on my hip slides upward. He gently tangles his fingers in my hair, gripping it just enough to tilt my head back, lifting my chin as high as it will go. My eyes are still closed, but I can feel his dark eyes burning into me even through the blindfold.
He keeps moving, guiding me as he continues, “He tells you it’s a shame—a tragedy, even—that a woman of such extraordinary beauty has been kept in a cage.
You deserve freedom, he tells you. The thrill of being kissed along the Seine in France.
The wind playing with your hair in the Swiss mountains.
The burning passion of making love on the sun-kissed beaches of Spain. ”
He pauses, letting his words sink in, giving me time to paint the picture in my mind.
“And for the rest of the night, he doesn’t say a word. He just stares into your eyes. And that’s when you see something in the depths of his dark gaze, something you don’t recognize. Something that pulls you toward him like a magnet.”
My lips are parted, my breathing uneven. “What is it?”
I feel his wet kiss on the curve of my ear as he breathes, “Lust.”
I clutch him tighter, nails digging into his skin, swallowing hard. Every inch of me is on fire and the ache between my thighs is getting unbearable
He lifts his head from my shoulder. “And now, it’s night, and you’re in your room. You’re lying on your bed, with nothing on.”
As he says it, I realize he’s untying the sash of the robe, letting it slide off my shoulders. I’m so caught in the spell of his words that I don’t protest. When my legs brush against the sheets, I understand we’ve reached the bed again.
He lays me down so gently, like I’m something breakable. I can’t see him, but I feel him hovering over me, his presence heavy and consuming. He takes my hand, guiding my fingertips down the length of my body, tracing the heat of my skin with a reverence that makes my breath catch.
“You touch yourself for the first time…thinking only of him.”
As my hand moves to my breasts, my fingers slide inside my bra, and that’s when I realize he’d already unhooked it without me noticing. The bra is loose under my touch.
He keeps telling his story. “You cup your breasts, thinking of him.”
Without him needing to ask, I do exactly that, squeezing gently as a soft, helpless moan slips out.
He pulls the straps of my bra down my arms, sliding it completely off, but I no longer care. All I want is more. I want to drink deeper from this maddening pleasure.
He guides my hand lower, slipping it into my panties. My clit is throbbing wildly, radiating heat. I spread my legs as far as they will go. God… what is he doing to me?
“With thoughts of his hands on your skin, you massage yourself.”
He takes my two fingers and guides them, showing me exactly how to move—slow, tight circles right where I’m most sensitive. The pleasure is so intense it almost hurts, something I never knew a body could feel.
“Good girl. Just like that.”
My moans keep getting louder, filling the room. But not even the sound of my own voice can pull me out of the trance I’m in.
I feel the lace sliding down my hips, then my thighs. He’s taken my panties off. I’m still massaging myself when he does something that steals my breath entirely, his tongue brushes over my slit.
A sharp jolt shoots through me. I jerk away, but his hands clamp down on my hips, pinning me to the bed.
He moves up, his mouth right next to my ear. His voice comes out rough, strained. “Don’t be scared, Princess. Your king risked everything—getting caught, tortured, killed—just to have you. The most beautiful woman in the fucking world.”
His lips graze mine, soft and damp. My heart is pounding so hard I feel it everywhere. His lips feel warm…dangerous…impossible to resist.
I’ve never been kissed. And now I don’t want to fight it. God, I can’t.
He whispers again, his voice low and sinful, “You want your king, Princess? The man who risked everything…whose cock is aching for you?”
Tears well up in my eyes from the overwhelming pressure building inside me. He cradles my face with both hands, his touch rough as he strokes me with an intensity that borders on violence.