Page 111 of Crown of Storm and Silence
The memory hits like a strike. The stone wall at my back. His hand over my mouth. The brutal rhythm of his hips. The shame and thrill of knowing we weren’t alone.
“They all heard you,” he murmurs, tongue flicking the rim of my ear. “Lords. Ladies. Servants. They all know what it sounds like when I make you come.”
My gown slips from my shoulders. I don’t stop him. I can’t. Beneath it, I wear only a shift of translucent silk, clinging to my skin, doing nothing to hide the changes pregnancy has brought to my body—full breasts, swollen belly, softened hips.
He groans when his hands cup my breasts, thumbs grazing my nipples through the fabric. I arch into him with a needy moan.
“Look at them,” he commands, turning me toward the balcony edge. “Look how wild they are. How free.”
Below, a vampire feasts on his partner’s cock and blood-slicked belly simultaneously, groaning into the wound as they rut against a smoking altar. Another man kneels with a wolf’s head strapped over his face, ass lifted, as two beasts take turns fucking him. A woman rides a masked trio, blood dripping between her thighs as she sobs from the overstimulation.
And I can’t look away.
Kaan kneels behind me, spreading my thighs with reverent hands. His mouth finds the inside of my thigh, kissing up, up, until his tongue brushes my swollen folds.
“Kaan—” I gasp, already trembling.
“You’re dripping,” he murmurs against my cunt. “Fucking divine.”
His tongue flicks my clit, slow and teasing, before dragging lower to lap through my folds. He devours me like it’s his purpose, groaning into my pussy, tongue thrusting deep, fingers spreading me wide to drink every drop.
When he sucks my clit, I cry out, hips bucking. He holds me down, feasting with wicked hunger, switching from cunt to ass, licking and teasing, circling my tightest hole with slow, deliberate pressure.
“I could eat you for hours,” he growls. “So sweet. So swollen.”
When he finally stands, his face glistens with my arousal. His eyes are feral.
“You want more,” he says. “I feel it. You want to be fucked where they can see.”
“Yes,” I whisper, aching. “Please, Kaan.”
He turns me to face the railing again, bending me forward until my breasts press against the cool stone. I feel him behind me, one hand between my legs, the other sliding down my spine.
“Your pussy,” he says. “I own your pleasure, Nesilhan.”
I moan when he parts my cheeks and presses a slick finger against my slit, then ass. Slowly, gently, he pushes inside my rearend. The burn is perfect. He adds another, stretching me with slow, sinful precision until I’m panting.
“I’m going to ravage your dripping cunt with my cock while I play with your ass,” he growls. “Every inch. And you’re going to love it.”
He pulls his cock free—thick, hard, slick with my wetness. I feel the blunt head press against my pussy. His fingers are moving in and out of my ass slowly as I try to breathe.
And then he pushes his cock inside me.
The stretch is sharp, thick, mind-breaking. My fingers claw the railing. My legs shake. But I want it—I want all of him.
“Fuck,” he groans. “You feel like fire.”
He buries himself to the hilt, one hand gripping my hip and the other moving inside my ass. Then he begins to move—slow, deep strokes that melt every thought in my head.
“Touch yourself,” he commands.
I obey, fingers finding my clit. The friction is exquisite. Each thrust of his cock into my pussy drives me closer to the edge.
Below us, the garden burns in pleasure.
A foursome writhes in the mud—two men, two women, fucking in every configuration. A chained woman screams as masked demons take turns using her. Blood streaks her thighs, her moans cracked and reverent. A vampire orgy feeds and fucks in a writhing knot of limbs and fangs, their pleasure echoing off the palace walls.
Kaan slams into me harder. “Let them hear,” he snarls. “Let them know you’re mine.”
