Page 25 of Kiss the Filthiest King

We're all in agreement, in and out. We want this.We crave it. For one moment the gods are silent, dying for what we can give them; a sense of closeness they haven't had the chance, or the courage, to take for millennia.

She tastes like sunshine and flowers andmine.

So completely, utterly mine, in a way that makes the world spin onto itself. The rush of possessiveness, completion, and rightness shock me to the bone, rewriting what I am.

I wish I could take my time. Explore her. Kiss every inch of her skin, every crevice, until she understands it as clearly as I do.

Instead, I take. Iclaim. My hand wraps around her pretty little neck, holding on to it tight, struggling not to squeeze harder.

A threat lights her eyes, those shifting pupils turning all white, but I don’t let go, choking her a little harder in a warning of my own.

“You may become queen, you may soon command all of the lords of the land and sea in Ilvaris but here, behind those closed doors, when it’s simply me and you, I am in charge.”

“Oh, and why—because of your almighty penis?”

“You know just how mighty it is.” A half snort, half chuckle escapes my lips. “But mostly because you like it.”

Never letting go of her throat, I push my knees between her legs, flush against her crotch.

She’s not wearing anything under the slip, and I can feel how fucking drenched she is.

“And you need it.”

I push her against her plush bed none too gently, the white fabric rising up, revealing her slender legs and that delightful pussy. She grabs onto the edge of the slip, but with a grunt, I shove her hand back, pushing her legs farther apart instead.

“You’re going to stay right there,” I sneer. “And you’re going to take what I give you.”

I don’t wait for a reply, bringing my mouth to her center to devour her. Slowly. Sensually. Parting her folds, running my tongue over her sweetness.

I drink in her sounds, each intake of breath, each moan, enthused, drunk on them, needing more. My mouth closes over her clit as she struggles beneath me, her hips trying to crawl away from the overwhelming laps, I suppose. Instead of allowing her to run, I give her more, curling two fingers inside her molten folds.

“Ryther! It’s too much.”

It’s not nearly enough. I suck. I lick. I tease. I even bite, until she’s finally screaming incoherently, and coming all over my mouth.

Only then do I give into the blinding need growing inside me and climb over her, freeing my throbbing cock. “You’ll take this too, won’t you? Like a good little whore.”

The vicious anger is back with a vengeance, but not diminishing my desire. Little as I might understand it, Darina doesn’t seem to balk at it, as though part of her knows the reason behind the fury.

I have the presence of mind to tell myself that we’re going to have to work out what in the seven hells happened between these two entities if we’re going to survive them, otherwise they truly will make us consume each other.

And then I’m driving into her anyway, harder, faster, taking her with both rage and unquenchable yearning.

I’ve never been one for cute words and sweet loving, but I’ve also never fucked anyone like this, screwing her into the mattress so forcefully any other bed would break in two. The high queen’s furniture squeaks in protest, banging against the wall hard enough to crack it, both of our screams bouncing off the walls.

While one of my thumbs flicks her clit, my other hand seeks her throat again, and she wraps those legs around me to keep me close.

“Oh my fucking god!” someone screams.

I frown, my hips never stopping as I turn to find the damnable mortal in the room, in front of a small door; she was in the bathroom, no doubt. I wonder at her shock. The room is likely soundless thanks to some spell, if she’s surprised.

“It’s called fucking, if you’re not familiar with the concept,” I inform her, returning my attention to her sister. “You know where the door is.”

But she stays planted on her feet, presumably shocked. I guess she hasn’t heard about fucking, then. Or maybe she’s wondering if I’m murdering her sister.

Darina’s bent in two by now, ass up in the air, and I am still choking her. Only a little.

She looks like she’s trying to talk, probably to tell her sister to go, but my unrelenting thrusts aren’t letting anything but needy, desperate grunts come out of her throat.

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