Page 68 of Kiss the Filthiest King

I don't doubt for one moment he's the kind of boy to always be on top. And in truth, with men, I usually prefer to be the one being stuffed. But I don't want to fuck him as much as I want to play with him. To distract myself from the fact that I haven't slept in days, and I'll have to stay overly vigilant with all the snakes of the court until at least tomorrow.

Caenan narrows his eyes, but as my fist slowly pumps him, he sighs, and nods once.

"And then, you’ll keep your hands off Rachel?"

I consider my answer. "Yes, unless she begs me for it. I can never resist a little desperation. Hence why I want you."

He rolls his eyes and slaps my hand off his cock before getting to his knees, opening my pants to free my cock. It's getting far more action than I expected today.

Caenan's mouth stays shallow, clearly not used to blowing, so I grasp a fistful of his long dark hair and lead him up and down my shaft.

"If you can't get the job done with your mouth, I'll have to take your ass instead," I tell him.

Needless to say, he's more enthusiastic afterwards, taking as much as he can, tongue darting out.

"Good boy," I praise him.

In truth, he's average, but I do enjoy a little humiliation.

I bring my hands to my balls, palming them, and sway my hips to get the job done. It doesn't take long before I paint his pretty face with cum.

I'm nice, and don't stain his clothes. He just got dressed after all.

"Happy now?" he grunts.

"Considerably happier, yes." I bring my arm around his shoulder. "And as I'm in a lovely mood, I'll help with your mortal, too. You gotta get her to notice you, my good friend. You can't just stand nearby and hover and hope she'll see you."

"I am not taking dating advice from you."

"Why not? I fucked your girl."

"I hate you," he retorts.

"People keep telling me that today for some reason," I muse.

"Just today? Now that’s a surprise.”

30

A PARTY AND A FUNERAL

Darina

The difference between a revel and a coronation seems to be the same as between a party and a funeral.Yesterday, everyone was glad to be here. Now, they're silent and formal, sadness filling the air.

We've opened the throne room. Relva had pews brought in, not unlike at a wedding, and the lords and lady are seated by the time I make my way to the great dais dominating the center of the space.

I was coached, like I am in all things these days. I don't look at anything or anyone, entering with my head level, my eyes solely fixed on the throne.

It's a gaudy thing, silver and gold and diamond-encrusted, and it looks particularly uncomfortable, not to mention cold. It doesn't suit me, Darina Thorn. But it occurs to me as I approach it that it looks perfect for the thing I'm pretending to be, while wearing this war paint and intimidating dress.

Fake it till you make it.

As I reach the dais, I turn, preparing to address the assembly.

"I—"

"Murderer!"

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