Chapter 33 The Scream
The Scream
Istood before the floor-length mirror as I unzipped my dress, my fingers stilling on the spot where the king’s searing touch lingered.
I imagined it was his fingers slowly grazing over my skin as I shrugged my shoulders, letting the velvet material fall off my curves and pool around my heels.
The tightness coiling between my legs didn’t relent ever since I fled from the king’s bruising grip, and there was no way I could train in such a state.
Since I had to release the ever-growing tension within me before our training session, I did what I knew how to do best: please myself.
Kicking my dress to the side, I stood before the mirror and hooked my thumbs into the band of my lacy undergarments, making quick work of discarding those, as well as my bra.
I stood before the floor-length mirror, in nothing but my beloved heels, as I dipped my fingers into the wetness already gathered between my thighs.
There were two guaranteed ways to expel any tension within my core—violence or sex.
Considering I had to be on top of my game when I trained with the king, I convinced myself I was doing this out of sheer necessity.
Not because I liked the way his fingers felt digging into my waist.
I circled my clit, applying a glorious amount of pressure.
I was most definitely not doing this because I enjoyed the feel of his hardness pressing into my backside.
Dragging my finger down myself, I slipped it inside me. I bit back the moan crawling up my throat as I leaned forward, gripping the mirror as I closed my eyes.
However, doing so was a fatal mistake when flashes of those piercing green eyes raced through my mind.
I should open my eyes—I should stop thinking about the king—but instead, I slipped a second finger into me, reveling at the stretch it provided. I worked myself with a feverish intensity, but it didn’t feel satisfying like it used to.
I craved more.
If the feeling of what was pressing into my back in the library was accurate, then I knew the king was very well endowed. I never had the opportunity to fully explore him all those years ago, and I now deeply regretted being such a prude when I was mortal.
As I touched myself, I wondered how big he was, if he liked it rough and painful like I did, if he moaned when he came.
Shoving a third finger in me, I rode my hand all the while I imagined it was his.
Fuck, now we were getting somewhere.
Slipping out of myself, I worked my clit while chasing after my release. With my other hand, I rolled my nipple between my fingers, hissing from the intoxicating sensation of pain spearing through my nerves. I opened my eyes, so I could watch how my breasts bounced from the jolt of agony.
That’s it, almost there.
Dragging my fingers back down my center, I pushed them deep inside me one final time.
I knew what I was doing was wrong, but as I closed my eyes, my back arched when I visualized the Serpent King burying himself deep within me. My other hand reached around to grab my ass all the while pretending it was his.
As my orgasm shot through me, I couldn’t stop myself from screaming out the name I’ve avoided saying for nearly eighty years.
I didn’t shout for the Serpent King. The words ‘the king’ didn’t tumble from my sinful lips.
No, I yelled for the man who utterly and completely destroyed me, and who was on the proper pathway to doing so once more.
As I came with a shattering intensity, I screamed out for Alaric.