31. THE JESTER
THE JESTER
Iused to think the sweetest sound in the world was a grown man sobbing as he begged me to put him out of his misery.
I was wrong.
Elara lapping up my cock was better.
Seeing Elara, right here on the cold floor of the cell, down on her knees.
Those wide, innocent blue eyes flashed up at me, framed by the coy smirk playing on her lips.
Her touch was far too confident—her small, soft hand wrapping around my length, pumping me with a steady, practiced rhythm before pulling me deep into her delicious heat.
I loved it.
Her mouth was a glorious, but my favorite part was the wretched, breathless gagging sound she made every time I pushed past her throat.
Still, if I were forced to rank my vices, there was one thing I relished even more: being inside her.
From up here, as I dragged my hands through her silky hair and hauled her head back, tangling my fingers into tight fists, I knew exactly what she was thinking.
She thought she was running the show.
She thought she was the puppet master pulling my strings.
Oh, so, so wrong.
But I let her play the part. I adored this side of her. She was a ghost of a woman, bruised and trampled by every wretched, powerful man this rotten society had to offer. Invisible to the world. But in this dark, damp cell, she was my favorite.
She finally released me with a soft, wet pop of her lips, trailing a line of saliva behind.
"Bend over, sweet face," I purred.
A spark of raw eagerness lit up her eyes.
Ah, she loved this game. She didn't hesitate, dropping onto all fours like a good little pet, baring every inch of herself to me.
I delivered a light, stinging slap to the soft curve of her ass, rewarded by the glisten of her own slick arousal waiting for me.
She was desperate for it. Desperate for me.
I leaned down, breathing in the intoxicating contrast of her scent—smoky, sweet, and entirely ruinous. I buried my face in her, my tongue lapping at her, dipping deep like a starving man offered his very first feast.
"Spread those pretty legs of yours, doll."
A desperate, broken moan slipped from her throat as she obliged. I drove her straight toward the edge, teasing her, devouring her until she was trembling on the brink of orgasm. Just as she was about to snap, I pulled back, aligning my hardened tip against her soaking entrance.
Slowly, mercilessly, I began to ease inside. She was so wonderfully, agonizingly tight.
I gripped her hips, pulling her back flush against me as I drove deeper.
She arched her back with a sharp, ragged gasp, her spine curving like a bow beneath my touch.
The sheer, desperate surrender of it went straight to my head—a far sweeter high than any bloodshed or wine.
I reached out, entangling my fingers deep into the dark silk of her hair, yanking her head back until her throat was completely exposed to the air.
"Mine, doll," I hissed against the shell of her ear, my chest heaving against her warm skin. "You hear me? Mine. Nobody touches a single hair on your pretty little head. Nobody even looks at you. I’ll cut the eyes out of anyone who tries."
She let out a needy, breathless sob, her muscles clenching around me so tightly it nearly drove the breath from my lungs. The frantic edge of her peak was crashing over her, pulling her under.
As the coil inside me snapped and my own control began to fray, she panicked, trying to pull her hips forward to slip off my length before the final crash.
Oh, no you don't.
"Where do you think you're going?" I growled, my hands clamping onto her waist like iron manacles.
I slammed her back flush against my lap, sealing the last fraction of an inch between us, locking her in place so completely she couldn't move a millimeter.
"You don't get to run, sweet face," I rasped, burying my face in the crook of her neck, my breath scorching her skin. "You're going to take every last drop. I'm filling you up."
The dam broke.
I thrust deep, holding her pinned as the first hot wave spilled over. A low, gravelly groan ripped from the bottom of my throat, tangled together with her own high, undone cry as the orgasm seized us both. We stayed locked like that in the dim, heavy quiet of the cell.
She scrambled forward, breaking away from me so fast she nearly tripped over her own knees. She collapsed onto her side on the cold stone, pulling her legs tight against her chest and wrapping her arms around herself.
"What the fuck!" she snapped, and her wide blue eyes burned into mine, cheeks flushed a beautiful crimson.
My favorite color.
I sat back on my heels, wiping a stray curl from my forehead.
"Oh, loosen up, sweet face," I chuckled. "If you're worried about poison in the well, I’m clean as a whistle. No nasty little party favors left behind, you have my word."
"And I'm supposed to just trust you?" she spat, glaring at me like she wanted to tear my throat out with her bare hands. "You're a maniac in a prison cell! Aside from whatever diseases you could have, I can't afford to get pregnant!"
I tilted my head and leaned in just an inch, my dark eyes locking onto hers.
"Now there's a thought..." I hummed, watching the panic flicker in her gaze. "I think I’d love nothing more than to see you ripe and plump with my babe kicking inside you. A little piece of me, walking around outside these bars..."
I let out a low, breathy sigh, glancing down at my lap.
"Look at that. My, uh, dick is already getting hard just thinking about it. How about we go ahead and seal the deal, sugar-plum?"
Elara let out a strangled gasp of utter disgust. Without another word, she scrambled for her discarded clothes, snatching them off the floor and throwing them on with furious, clumsy haste. She yanked her boots on, practically vibrating with rage, before shooting me one last lethal glare.
She turned on her heel and bolted, the heavy iron door slamming shut behind her with a echo that rattled the stone once the guards opened it.
I leaned my head back against the cold cell wall, listening to the frantic cadence of her footsteps fading down the corridor.
A low chuckle bubbled up in my chest, expanding until a fit of wild, echoing laughter filled the empty cage, bouncing off the bars long after she was gone.