Page 32 of Sett and his King
He kissed me back.
This time with more intensity. He pushed and I hit the kitchen counter behind me. His hands roamed over my body, exploring, and I was so overwhelmed by it I stayed still for him as if he had frozen me in time.
I moaned at the thought.
"Will you…" I whispered, "will you use your power on me?"
He stopped kissing me, stopped touching me and took a step back.
"What?"
"I want you to use me,” I said.
He grimaced. “Use you?”
My eyes popped wide open.
“No," I said. "Not like that. Not the way Horus did. I just…I want to feel your power over my body. I want to feel like one of your potions. Frozen in time under your skilled hands."
He blinked in confusion and I ran my hand across his face.
“You wouldn’t be taking advantage. I want you to. I’m asking you to. It’s completely different to what my brother does to people.”
"Are-are you sure? I’ve never done this before.”
I chuckled.
“I’d love to be your first. I am giving you permission. It’s my choice.”
"Oh,” he said and a smile crossed his lips. “Okay. But maybe we should go to my bedroom. I don't want my Yaya walking in on us."
"That would be wise." I offered him my hand and after a moment’s hesitation he took it and squeezed.
He dragged me out of the kitchen and right into a bedroom.
“Glad to know we’re all on the same page,” I said looking up at the ceiling like I’d seen Drew do when he referred to the house.
“Shut up.” He laughed and pinned me down on the bed.
My body lit up at the promise of what was about to come. Namely, me.
His gaze fixed upon my body as he undressed me. One moment I was fully clothed. The next, I was naked and he was planting butterfly kisses on my chest, my stomach, my groin, my thighs.
Every second that passed he appeared in a different place, kissing or licking a different part of me. The surprise, the anticipation, the mystery only made my cock throb harder.
No matter how much time passed, he didn’t for one second pay any attention to my pulsating need. It was as if he wanted to taste me, all of me, first. All of me except for the generous few inches between my legs.
He kissed my knees, my calves. He ran his fingers under my feet, his lips over them, the tingling sensation reverberating through me in an endless loop.
I was a puppet, his plaything, his victim and that alone fed the sparks under my skin.
No. Not sparks. The sparks had been there since I’d laid eyes on him. This was different. This was more. It wasn’t just sparks. It was matches. Matches and gasoline setting my body ablaze.
"You're torturing me," I said.
One moment he was kissing my thighs and tickling my hips, the next he was at my ear, sucking on my earlobe.
"Am I?" He grinned. "I thought you wanted this."
