Clara
Lord Aldric, ancient, decaying revenant. I should be screaming. I should be biting and scratching and kicking until he lets me go. Instead, I’m frozen in place. Frozen not just by terror but also intrigue.
He’s devastatingly handsome. Almost as handsome as he is grotesque. And he’s tall, broad, packed with muscle. He has piercings on his lips that make me want to lick them and dark tattoos peeking out of his half-unbuttoned shirt.
But then I look at his mangled ear, parts of it held together by piercings like improvised staples. At the grayish tint of his scar-peppered skin, unnatural, incompatible with life. At the hollow socket where an eye would be, and the glowing shard inside I can’t stop looking at.
He exudes animal magnetism, a feral sex appeal that reminds me of cover models on old savage warlord bodice rippers. And the cock pressing against me? Sweet, merciful Jesus. I’m not sure that would fit comfortably inside a woman, but a part of me is certainly willing to try.
“You’re shivering,” he says softly.
“You’re scaring me,” I reply, even though it’s not the whole truth.
“Liar,” he breathes. His scarred knuckles run a path along my collarbone, over my neck, and to the apple of my cheek. As if proving his point, I lean into the touch. “You’re enjoying this. Turning on a monster. Making him hard and aching for you.”
I can’t hold back the moan that escapes my lips.
The picture he paints is vivid—even more so because I can feel him pressing against my body, the evidence unmistakable.
He is hard, and my body’s response is traitorous.
I can feel the telltale flush of warmth traveling from my lower belly between my legs.
Nerve endings that have been dormant since my forced engagement to Marco come back to life, my pussy tingling with the force of my sudden arousal.
Aldric takes a deep breath, a breathy groan building in his throat that makes my thighs clench together.
“I can almost taste how wet you are for me, Clara,” he says, his voice low and husky and rubbing against my senses like a fat cat. “And it’s making me ravenous.”
“You can’t… I can’t… This is insane,” I whine, unable to believe this is happening to me right now.
“Oh, we can,” he purrs. When he pulls back, I see the wicked glint in his… eye. “I’m dying to have you, Clara.”
I don’t bother mentioning that he apparently can’t die, too busy warring with myself.
The rational part of me is screaming that I should knee him in the gonads and run as far as I can.
But there’s another part of me, louder with every second Aldric’s hard body rubs against mine. And it’s telling me to give in.
What’s the worst thing that could happen?
Don’t answer that.
The revenant’s hand slides down my body, and I don’t fight it.
I let it run a burning path over the side of my breast, the dip of my waist, the swell of my hips.
He pauses, that otherworldly gaze assessing me.
When I stay frozen except for the rise and fall of my chest, those pierced lips turn into an arrogant smirk.
Does he not think himself hideous? Does he believe I’ll fall at his feet over a few touches and the outline of a massive—
When his palm moves over my stomach, my breath catches in my throat.
“W—what are you doing?” I whisper haltingly.
“Checking to see just how scared you are of me, little intruder,” he drawls in that superior tone. Nobility alright. Probably had ladies throwing their unmentionables at him before… whatever this is.
“Don’t,” I say unconvincingly, then let my head fall back when his strong fingers press unerringly against my clit. When’s the last time someone, other than myself, even bothered to look for it?
“Don’t, what, Clara?” he asks, rubbing me in slow, precise circles. “Don’t give your cunt what it needs? What it’s weeping for?”
“Oh my god,” I breathe, my cheeks on fire. Who even talks like that? Ancient, medieval warlords, apparently.
“No god here, little intruder. Just us. Just pleasure.”
His words make me sway, and he catches me with his free hand, steadying me against him.
“That’s it,” Aldric murmurs against my hair. “See how good I can make you feel.”
“I shouldn’t—” I slur, my head lolling on his chest. His touch feels maddeningly good. I lift my eyes to his with great difficulty. He’s a true monster; scarred, ruined, otherworldly. So why am I climbing to orgasm faster than I ever have?
“Yes?” he prompts, his voice infuriatingly even while I’m completely discombobulated. “You shouldn’t… orgasm so hard you forget who you are? I can feel how slick your pussy is for me. You’ll come for me soon, won’t you, Clara?”
I bite down on my lower lip to keep my answer in. He needs to shut that beautiful mouth right now. With that in mind, I surge up and kiss him.
He freezes, muscles locked in place, the fingers that had me on the brink stilling as I press my lips against his.
I’m already damned, so I give in to curiosity and tug on the twin piercings with my teeth, first one side, then the other.
Aldric groans, and he’s moving again, one arm squeezing my ass as he redoubles his efforts with the other, massaging me over my wet underwear.
The sounds his fingers make are obscene, wet, sloppy, and our mouths echo them as tongues battle for supremacy.
And even his tongue is pierced, a smooth barbell that feels cold against the heat of my mouth.
He angles me against him, rubbing that tree trunk he has in his pants against my hip.
That’s when I realize he has more piercings I haven’t yet discovered.
Either that, or whatever curse he’s under made his cock bumpy.
The thought shouldn’t make my pussy clench over nothing, but it does.
Groaning, I start exploring him with my hands.
One of my palms finds a pierced nipple, and the other—
His hand stops kneading my ass and grabs my wrist in a flash, keeping me from touching him where his chest glows blue. To punish him for that, I twist the piercing I have access to.
“Ah,” he hisses, pulling back so he can glower at me. “You’re a wild thing, aren’t you? I’ll take great pleasure in making you fall to your knees.”
“Why, you—” He’s the one who shuts me up with a kiss this time, our tongues dueling as my back arches, my legs spreading to give him more space.
“You are so beautiful,” he says against my lips, voice low and reverent. “Even more beautiful as you’re about to come on my fingers.”
“I’m not—” I begin, but trail off on a long moan.
“Yes, you are,” Aldric insists, his fingers moving faster, every movement designed to push me higher, until I reach the point of no return. “Come for me right now, Clara. Come for your lord.”
It should be demeaning. It should be infuriating.
I should be terrified, or mad, or in shock.
Instead, my belly cramps as the most powerful orgasm I’ve ever felt rips through me.
My pussy clenches hard as I scream so loud it echoes through the castle, a chorus of pleasure.
I twist Aldric’s nipple piercing harder than I intended, my body no longer under my control, lost to sensation.
“Fuck!” The revenant shudders against me, then lets out a long, low growl. Warmth blooms where his crotch is pressed against my hip, and I can feel his huge, pierced cock kick rhythmically between our bodies.
I made him come in his old-fashioned pants. The thought makes another powerful aftershock arc through my body.
We’re breathing heavily, still clinging to each other, when I feel the change in him. He freezes for a moment, then holds me at arm’s length. He looks at me, then between us, where sticky cum connects my skin to the soaked material covering his crotch.
“Shit,” Aldric growls darkly. When he takes a sudden step back, I nearly fall over, catching myself in the last moment. “God damn it,” he hisses.
Before I can respond, he turns on his heel and strides away, his boots clapping loudly against the ancient tiles, my eyes dazed and locked on his obscenely delicious ass. Aldric disappears into the darkness, headed in the direction of a turret I didn’t bother to explore yet.
I’m still blinking, my heart racing, when loud purring catches my attention.
It’s Shmoo. I search his gaze for judgment, then scoff at myself for anthropomorphizing a cat again.
Because of course a cat won’t judge me for rubbing against a grotesquely handsome medieval lord until I came hard enough to almost pass out.
I touch my hip, my fingers coming back sticky, resisting the urge to taste them. Then I frown at where I still hear the revenant stomping up the turret.
“Wait, why are you upset?” I yell after him. “You’re the one who accosted me.” Then quieter: “You freak.”
I need another bath. And maybe antipsychotics.