Chapter 11 #2
My breath stutters. I follow him when he pulls back, chasing the warmth of his mouth, not ready for it to end, not ready for the distance.
A quiet sound escapes me before I can stop it. His hand tightens slightly in my hair at that. Not rough. Just enough to hold me there. Just enough to make my pulse jump.
When his mouth finds mine again, it’s different. Deeper. Hungrier. Still controlled, but only barely now.
His other hand slides to my hip, keeping me close as if he has no intention of letting me go. And this time I don’t just lean into the kiss. I meet it. Kissing him back. Claiming him the way he claims me.
I hear a sound. Ashton’s half-stifled moan, then Oberon’s low, approving grunt.
I steal a glance, and see them both watching intently.
Ashton’s hand is in his lap, kneading at the bulge in his pants.
Oberon’s arms are still folded, but his chest is rising faster.
Sylvian’s gaze is fixed on my face, like he’s cataloging every twitch and shiver.
Cassius slides a hand up the inside of my arm, so light it makes my hairs stand on end, and then he’s undoing the sash on my robe.
I gasp as the fabric falls away, exposing the thin silk nightgown underneath.
The air is cold on my skin, but his hands are warm.
He runs his fingertips from my shoulder to my elbow, marveling at it like it’s treasure.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, and I believe him. The way he says it, like it’s a fact of nature.
He draws the strap of my nightgown off my shoulder. I look away, embarrassed, but he turns my face back and kisses my eyelids, my nose, my cheek. I melt under his mouth. He’s gentle, so careful, but every touch is more insistent.
“Is this okay?” he murmurs.
I can only nod. My heart in my throat.
He slips the gown lower, exposing my breasts.
I flinch, but his hand steadies me, and then he’s cupping one, thumb brushing the nipple.
The sensation is electric. Nobody’s ever touched me there before.
I expect to feel shame, but instead I’m burning up.
He draws slow circles around my nipples, never quite touching the center, and when I squirm he smiles, a sly glint in his pale blue eyes.
“Sensitive?” he says.
I manage, “Yes,” though it comes out as a gasp.
“Good. You’re perfect.”
He dips his head and kisses the swell of my breast, the curve of it, then the other, all with infuriating patience. The stubble of his jaw scrapes my skin, leaving a trail of tingling rawness. His tongue flicks my nipple and I arch, pressing against him, desperate for more.
I hear the other men’s breathing now, and look up.
Oberon has unbuttoned his pants, cock thick in his fist, and he strokes himself with slow, deliberate movements, never breaking eye contact.
Ashton is serious for once, his hand is down his pants, the motion unmistakable.
Sylvian’s lips are parted, and I can see the tip of his tongue as he watches, rapt.
The attention makes me lightheaded. I didn’t think I’d want to be watched, but the way they look at me, hungry, reverent, it only makes me want Cassius more. I open my legs for him, not even thinking about it. Just needing.
He moves his mouth down my torso, peppering kisses along my ribs, my belly. His hair brushes my skin, ticklish and soft. He slides the nightgown up, exposing my thighs. His hands linger there, thumbs stroking the inside, up and up, until I’m shuddering.
He glances up at me, and his gaze is darker now, heavy with want.
“You’re nervous,” he says.
“A little.”
“You don’t need to be. I’m going to take care of you, Alette. I promise.”
He hooks a finger under the hem of my nightgown and tugs it higher, until I’m bare to the waist. I can feel the wetness between my thighs, slick against the cool air.
He runs his hand up my leg, starting at the knee, massaging the muscle, then higher, until his palm is pressed against the inside of my thigh.
I think he’ll touch me right away, but he doesn’t. Instead, he kisses me again, mouth on mine, and slips his fingers up and down my thigh, teasing me until I can barely breathe. His tongue is warm, and when it tangles with mine I feel it all the way to my toes.
I rock my hips, desperate for friction, and he smiles against my mouth.
“Greedy,” he says, not unkindly.
He slides his hand up, brushes the barest tip of a finger against my outer lips, and I nearly come apart.
He takes his time, tracing the shape of me, finding every place that makes me gasp.
His fingers are slender, graceful, but strong.
When he finally pushes one inside, I grab his wrist, shocked at the heat of it.
He starts slow, curling and uncurling, coaxing me open. Every movement is deliberate, measured, and every time I moan the others echo it, their voices a chorus. Oberon curses softly. Ashton says, “Fuck, Cass, let her come,” his voice ragged.
Cassius ignores them. He focuses on me, reading every twitch of my body, every tiny sound. He presses a thumb to my clit and moves it in gentle circles, and that’s enough. Tingles spread through my body, and I feel myself getting wetter and wetter.
His movements get faster, and I’m struggling to catch my breath.
Struggling to keep my heart from beating out of my chest. My toes curl.
My head falls back… and I’m undone. The orgasm is sudden, overwhelming, like a cresting wave.
I cry out, not caring who hears, not able to contain the noise, my whole body alive with pleasure.
Everything goes white at the edges. Until the world slowly starts coming back into focus.
He holds me through it, fingers never leaving me, just slowing as I shudder and twitch. When I finally catch my breath, he withdraws, wiping his hand delicately on the sheet. He kisses me again, and I just want to kiss him forever.
“You’re amazing,” he says. “So responsive. You feel everything.”
“I’ve never—” I start, but he hushes me with another kiss.
“I know. That’s why I wanted to go first. I wanted to be the one to show you how good it can be.”
The others are watching, panting, and when I look at Oberon, he gives me a single, sharp nod. Like that’s exactly the reason he allowed another man to touch me.
Cassius kneels in front of me on the floor, parts my knees, and leans in. I start to protest, but he gives me a look that says, trust me. So, I do.
He licks a slow stripe up my pussy, and I collapse back onto the bed, grabbing fistfuls of sheets.
His tongue is warm at first, then gets hotter, lapping at me with more skill than I thought possible.
My nerves still feel so sensitive, so alive, that everything he does just feels so damn good I can barely contain myself.
Every lick of his tongue is deliberate, every pause an invitation to beg.
I do, helplessly, “please, please,” until he hums against my clit and I scream, back arching.
He keeps going, tongue flicking and stroking, until I come again, this time so hard my legs lock around his head. Pulling him closer even though some part of me is feeling too much. Enjoying too much. I try to push him away. He shifts back and grins, lips shiny.
He stands, face flushed, and wipes his mouth on the back of his hand.
“Ready for more?” he asks, a teasing edge to his voice.
More? There’s more?
I nod, weakly. “Yes. Please.”
He lifts me onto the bed fully, lays me back, and positions himself over me.
Then, steps back and slowly removes his clothes.
His robe hits the ground first, giving a perfect display of not only his muscular chest, but his tented boxers, wet with his desire.
He removes his boxers without a thought, dropping them to the ground, and my jaw drops.
Is every man… as big as these four men? So enticing?
And also so frightening at the same time?
How will that possibly fit?
Panic rises for an instant. He sees it, and comes to the side of the bed, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “We’ll go slow,” he says.
I nod. “Slow.”
He carefully moves onto top of me, and it’s a shocking reminder of how much bigger these fae kings are than I am.
His size dominates me in every way, wrapping all around me.
But as he moves on top of me, the feeling isn’t crushing the way I expect.
I realize that he’s keeping his weight off of me and take another deep breath.
I trust Cassius. We can do this.
Sucking his way down my throat, he reaches between us and starts to touch me lightly once more.
The feeling is comforting. Gentle. Like being wrapped in a warm blanket of pleasure, instead of being beaten over the head with it.
I just let him kiss me. Touch me. And close my eyes, trying to keep this moment in my mind forever.
Whatever happens after this. After this night. After the labyrinth. I’ll have Cassius, my men, and this moment, to keep me warm, even on the coldest of nights.
And I already know I won’t regret it.
His touch begins to change. There’s more pressure. More speed. And I can feel my orgasm building again. Just within my reach.
He stops, and I whimper, missing his touch. But I realize it isn’t over. He guides himself to my entrance, and nudges in, just the tip at first. I feel the stretch, the fullness, and it’s both too much and not enough, all at the same time. He holds himself there, breathing hard, letting me adjust.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he says, loud enough for the others to hear.
Oberon grunts, “Of course she is.”
Ashton laughs breathlessly. “You’re lucky, Cass.”
Sylvian just watches, eyes wide, lips parted.
Cassius pushes in a little more, and there’s a more tightness, like he’s not meant to fit inside of me. I wince, but he’s gentle, stopping immediately. “Do you want to stop?” he whispers.
“No. Please. I want this. I want you.”
He kisses me again, and rocks his hips, sliding in a little more each time. A little more. Then, he pauses.
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure,” I whisper.
He shoves deeper and pain explodes inside of me. I gasp, and he holds himself perfectly still.
“It should only hurt for a minute. Then, it’ll be done.”
And, he’s right. The pain recedes. His warmth, his presence, it pushes it away. The pain is replaced by pressure, then by a swelling pleasure that builds.
“Ready?” And he sounds like he’s losing control.
I dig my fingers into his back. “Ready.”
He thrusts deeper and deeper inside of me until I know there’s nowhere further to go, and then he keeps going. By the time he’s done, I’m clinging to him like I’m lost in a storm. He sucks down my neck, waits, and I slowly feel myself relaxing. Adjusting to him.
Without a word, he pulls back out, then thrusts back in.
I cry out, but this time it’s not from pain.
Pleasure unravels inside of me and as he continues to thrust in and out, as every hair on my body stands on end.
This… is so good. So freaking good. Why in the world did I wait this long to feel something this amazing?
“You’re perfect,” he whispers. “Perfect for me. For us.”
He continues moving, slow and careful, and each time his hips meet mine it feels better, the pleasure growing. My body adjusts, accommodates him, and soon I’m meeting him thrust for thrust, greedy for more.
Oberon’s watching, stroking himself harder and harder. Ashton is standing, hand moving fast, eyes locked on the place where Cassius and I are joined. Sylvian has his hand wrapped around his naked cock, but he’s not moving, just holding, as if the act of watching is enough.
Cassius picks up the pace, and I can feel another orgasm building, deeper than the last. He whispers to me the whole time, about how beautiful I am, how good I feel, how he’s never wanted anyone like this.
The words drive me higher, and when I come, it’s so intense I think I might black out.
It’s an explosion of pleasure that sends every nerve inside of me screaming with pleasure, and makes every muscle in my body tense.
I clench around him, and he groans, losing control.
He thrusts harder, faster, and then he’s coming too, hips jerking, spilling his seed inside me.
He collapses on top of me, shaking, and I wrap my arms around his back, holding him close. Not wanting to ever lose this moment. Not wanting to ever lose him.
For a minute, all I can hear is the storm outside, and the sound of four men trying to catch their breath.
My gaze slides to them, and I’m shocked to see their massive dicks clenched hard in their hands, their white seed sliding down their lengths.
I lick my lips for reasons I don’t understand and feel the strangest thrill that just watching me did that to them.
Cassius lifts his head and kisses me, softer now, reverent.
“Are you okay?” he asks, voice thick.
“I’m better than okay,” I say, and I mean it.
Oberon stands and walks to the bed, kneeling beside us. He strokes my hair, so gentle it almost makes me cry.
“You did good,” he says, and there’s real pride in his voice. “You both did.”
Ashton flops onto the bed next to me, sweaty and flushed. “Can’t believe you lasted that long, Cass,” he teases.
Cassius smiles, a little dazed. “Neither can I.”
Sylvian climbs onto the bed last, squeezing between Ashton and I. He presses himself against my side, while Ashton grumbles behind him. He nuzzles my hair, and his chest is warm and solid against my side.
I lie there, surrounded, sated, and think, I could get used to this.
“Does it always feel like that?” I ask, voice small.
Cassius kisses my neck. “No. Only with you.”
I laugh, tears pricking my eyes.
“I love you,” I say, not even embarrassed.
He says it back, and the others murmur their agreement, each in their own way.
The words settle over the bed like something sacred. Cassius says them back immediately, low and certain, and the others echo him in their own ways, voices rough with warmth and exhaustion and something so deep it makes my chest ache.
For a while, none of us move. We stay tangled together in the enormous bed, the fire crackling softly nearby while hands continue to drift lazily over skin and fingers lace with mine.
The room feels warm. Safe. Full in a way I never knew life could be.
And as their voices rise around me again, teasing and soft and utterly content, I realize I don’t want this night to end at all.