Page 89 of Bride By Coronation

My cock hardens further.

She pushes my head lower, and her lips graze my ear. She seductively asserts, "I think we're supposed to be in the other room. Aren't we?" She retreats, pinning doe eyes on me.

A rush of adrenaline courses through me.

Why isn't she freaking out?

The gong bangs once, pulling me out of my trance. I carefully unfasten her dress, turn her back to me, then slide it off her arms.

It falls to the floor, pooling around her feet.

My mouth goes dry at the sight before me. The delicate lace of the lingerie showcases the curve of her ass to perfection. I drag my knuckles over her spine and push the middle one between her cheeks.

She inhales sharply. A tremble moves through her.

Unable to stop, I step in front of her, taking every part of her in, throbbing with a desire I don't remember ever feeling. I study her, memorizing the moles on her thigh, bicep, and topside of her cleavage.

The gong bangs twice. My eagerness takes over, eliminating my hesitation. I reach for her hand, help her over her dress, and lead her into the room.

The door shuts and locks behind us, the mechanics grinding like a high-end safe.

She takes a deep breath, glancing at our reflections, then at the knights.

I lean into her ear, reminding her, "Make sure you tap out."

She glances at me in confusion.

The stomping and humming resumes, vibrating around us, shakingthe glass. The knights stretch out their swords, clashing the metal together.

Fiona steps closer to me.

I slide my hand across her thigh, grazing my fingertips over her slit, surprised by the heat and dampness I find.

Her chest rises and falls faster.

I murmur, "Little birds need to be chained so they don't fly away."

She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out.

The swords slam into each other again, then rise straight into the air. A tiny grunt rolls out of the knights' throats, then several more grow in intensity.

The moonlight streams directly over us, supplying the only illumination since the flickering torches disappeared when the door locked.

Seven rings of the gong sound loudly. The knights part at the end of the bed.

I move my bride to the mattress, slide my hand over her cheek, and kiss her.

To my surprise, she kisses me back as enthusiastically as the first time.

Hissing erupts with stomping, yanking me back to my role.

I step back three feet and roar, "Shackle the queen."

The women in the crowd outside shriek.

Fiona's eyes widen.

Two knights grab her wrists, stretching them in the air.

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