Page 66 of Stolen

He pulled his thumb from my mouth. Then he yanked me from the chair and slung me over his shoulder like a sack of grain.

“What the fuck?” I sputtered, lifting my upper body. I heard the smack a split second before pain exploded across my ass. Before I could recover, he struck again, the sharp crack of his blow almost obscene. He’d held nothing back, and I sucked in a breath, my eyes watering.

He squeezed the cheek he’d just punished. “Are you a good boy, or do you need another?”

“I’m good.”

Smack. “That’s not what I asked. Try again.”

“I’m a good boy,” I croaked, my face and ass burning. “Fuck.” My gut burned, too, the delicious humiliation I craved roaring to life. I let myself dangle and watched the carpets change as he carried me to my bedchamber. He stopped before the wood-paneled wall, his big hand still gripping my ass like he owned it. Which, of course, he did. There was a soft click, followed by the creak of the hidden door.

We made it to the top of the stairs, and he carried me to the bed and flung me down. I bounced once and we crashed together as he came down on top of me. Alone at last, we unleashed all the sexual tension we’d been forced to bottle up since we returned to the palace. We rolled as we kissed, grabbing at each other’s clothes. He left my glove alone, but he grew impatient with the rest of my clothes and drew his knife. I hissed as he cut my shirt away. Stinging pain shot across my ribs as his blade sank too deep.

He was on me immediately, his tongue following the line of blood and sealing the wound.

My back bowed, and I clutched at his soft hair with my good hand. “Fucker,” I panted. “You did that on purpose.”

Golden eyes met mine for a brief second. His blade flashed, and my pants fell away. More lightning streaked across my thigh, followed by the warm swipe of his tongue. Another lick of fire around my calf, and then another on the inside of my knee.

He fell into a pattern, raising thin lines of blood and lapping them up while I hissed and squirmed beneath him. Nude now, I reached for my aching dick, only to get my hand slapped away.

“You’re out of your mind,” he chided. His blade skimmed my balls.

“Fuck!” I grabbed at the sheets, desire and fear twisting in my stomach. That cocktail of emotion gave way to mind-numbing bliss as he sucked one of my balls into his mouth. My eyes rolled back in my head. “Not too much,” I mumbled, my thighs twitching under his onslaught. “I’ll come.” And I didn’t want to. Not yet. I needed him inside me.

He hummed and flattened his tongue. Ran it over the delicate skin and traced the jagged seam with his tongue before releasing me with a soft plopping sound. His beard brushed my inner thigh.

I lifted my head so I could see him. And, fuck, he was a sight to behold. Burning eyes and sharp cheekbones. Wet, sexy mouth and distended fangs. His shirt was off, giving me a full view of his broad shoulders and lightly furred chest. His pants still clung to his hips, but just barely, and his dick swung heavy between his legs as he bent, offering me a nice look at the curves of his bare ass and the tantalizing cleft between his cheeks.

He set the knife aside.

“Thank fuck,” I muttered, and then I moaned as his plush lips wrapped around my cockhead. I spread my thighs wide, my heels propped on the bed. “Suck me, baby. Please.”

He did, but he took his fucking time, bobbing up and down my head for several long, maddening moments. Only when I was reduced to pathetic begging and whimpering did he suck all the way down. He dug his fingers into my thighs and deep-throated me, letting my leaking tip hit the back of his throat over and over.

“Baby,” I breathed, my balls drawing up tight as I watched him work me. He was slow and thorough, sucking every fucking inch right down to the base before dragging his hot mouth back up and swirling his tongue over my slit. Saliva dripped down my crack, teasing the place I desperately wanted him to be.

But this was so, so good, and I didn’t want him to stop. I wanted this and everything and more and more and more. Forever and fucking ever.

He took my dick to the back of his throat and held it there, his mouth stuffed with my cock. He swallowed around me a few times, then pulled off, letting my soaked dick slap hard against my thigh.

“Fuck,” I groaned, covering my eyes with my forearms. I took shallow breaths as I struggled not to come. Because my release was right there and if he touched me, I was going to lose it.

Rough hands seized my hips and flipped me onto my stomach. His body heat caressed my back, and then his beard grazed my ear. “You falling asleep?”

“No.” I grunted as he pulled my hips up, forcing me onto my knees. “I need a minute.”

“Too bad.” His palms spread me open, and his voice went husky. “Fuck, that’s nice.” His thick finger rubbed over my hole, massaging lightly. His thumbs replaced his fingers, stroking and coaxing me open. Setting a fire that started around my rim and spread up my spine. Breath hitching, I drifted away from the burn at first, only to roll my hips up as the blaze melted into pleasure.

“Good boy,” he rasped, pushing both thumbs inside. Stroking firm, lazy circles that robbed me of speech. “Look at you open up for me.”

I buried my face in the bed and moaned—and then I let my mouth hang open because I was too worked up to close it. I tightened my abdominal muscles, doing whatever I could to hold back. Buy myself some time. But my control was fraying, the rope I dangled from ready to snap.

All at once, his wicked fingers disappeared, and he gave me a light swat on the ass. “Stay.”

He left the bed, and I heard him take off his pants. When he didn’t return, I lifted my head and looked over my shoulder. He’d fetched oil and was slicking his stiff cock while he stared at my ass.

“Fuck,” I muttered.

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