Page 121 of Prize for the King
“Mmm, what’s wrong, pet?” he says, so cruelly tender. “Is it coming? Or should I move a bit harder?”
I dig my nails into his sides, knowing perfectly well it won’t stop him. “No! Not harder, no, no, no…”
“So this will do the trick? Tell me, sweetest. Will this make you come just like before?”
He keeps rocking, his cock pressing down and deep, and I wail, writhing helplessly on top of him.
“Yes! It’s coming, oh, I can’t…”
“Poor thing. Do you need to cry? It’s all right if you do. Just need you to come one more time like this, love. Just one more.”
“Why are you doing this?” I sob out, my muscles straining in waysthat hurt and exhilarate. Another wave gathers at the base of my spine, and I can only take shallow breaths, my body too tight to allow in more air.
“Because I love you and want you to have lots of nice, squirting orgasms on top of me. Is it much longer? Should I help out? Maybe you’d like a finger in your sweet ass to move things along?”
I gurgle out something, not sure what. The last of my breath leaves me, and the pressure squeezes tight. My body draws into an arch, everything tight, toes, fingers, jaw, heart pounding. The moment of agony stretches, then I plunge into the release. It whirls through me with utter, obliterating violence, and I wet him as I come and come, silent and soaring.
When it’s over, I can’t speak. He rolls us gently and tries to pull out, but doesn’t.
“Huh.”
“Wha… Wha…”
“Shh. It’s all right. You’ve grown very tight, love. You locked me in. I don’t think I can move just yet, or I’ll hurt you. We’ll wait.”
“D-don’t… Turn… Around…”
“I won’t. You’re done for today. You did very well and I’m proud of you.”
“B-but you… Haven’t…”
“We’ll work in that final inch once you relax a little, and I’ll come very fast after that. I mean, I have to breed my wife. It’s the king’s duty. Now breathe, love. You’re all right. Yes? I have you. You’re safe.”
He arches away to look at me, but I mumble out a protest, and he comes back, rolling us to our sides. I wrap my shaky arm around him and press my lips to his skin, tasting sweat and heat, my man. I feel very heavy, yet weightless at the same time. Everything grows blurry.
“Sleep,” Magnar whispers, stroking my hair. “I have you, love.”
I drift somewhere between waking and slumber, my breathsgrowing slower, deeper. Soon, he rolls us again until I’m on my back and begins rocking gently. Oh, I’m still tight, but he can move within me, though with effort.
“Pretty, pretty wife,” Magnar murmurs, as if to himself. My eyes are closed, and I can’t move a finger. “Yes, so pretty. Keep her relaxed, just like this. Let her dream of something nice and innocent while I make her take it.”
His thrusts are small, and he stays mostly buried deep within me. I don’t open my eyes, and he’s silent for a while, just rocking, rocking…
“Very good, sleepy girl,” he whispers, slowing down. “I’ll go just a bit deeper now. Here. Slowly… Slowly… Don’t wake her…”
He pushes in, and in, and in. There’s a moment of soreness and impossible stretching, but I am too tired to panic, too heavy to react. Magnar releases a long, controlled breath, and keeps pushing. I stretch more. He curses, opens my leg wider to the side, hot hand on my thigh.
“Yes. Fuck. Yes. Taking my knob. Good girl.”
He rocks me with stronger thrusts, and I feel it now, a hard, throbbing protrusion massaging the front side of my pussy. My muscles tighten, heat gathering there. It’s impossible I’ll come again, so I simply let it all happen, all that weight forced inside pressing me into the mattress, into rest.
“I knew you could,” he whispers harshly, breaths growing ragged. “See? Perfect wife for me. All it took was some lubrication, a few orgasms, the best fucking sex of my life. So worth it. Fits me so well. Let’s see if I can… Oh fuck. Ha, slow down. Let her sleep.”
He lays his palm on my belly, heavy and warm, and everything grows tighter, the friction bordering on unbearable. I realize I’m careening into another orgasm, and I can’t stop it. Moans pull from my throat, and Magnar shushes me time and again, but he’s not coherent anymore, mumbling things in his language. His thrustsgrow faster, more violent.
My spine snaps into an arch as I come in rigid silence, and he swears loudly. Every flex of his hips rocks me whole until he stills deep inside, throbbing. We’re groin to groin, pressed tightly together with not an inch of space between us. He did it.
Made me take him whole.
