Page 82 of Prize for the King
I don’t know what he means, but I nod, and Magnar’s lips spread in a sultry smile. He swipes his fingers, those with blunt nails, over my spread flesh, dipping one inside, but barely. My breath catches, and he closes his eyes, shaking his head. Sweat glistens at his temple.
“Damn. Such a soft, tight pussy. So good. Khay, come here.”
I can’t hold back a small whine when the knight drops to his knees at Magnar’s side, so very near, I’m sure he smells my intimate scent. His face is flushed dark, gaze heavy as he tears it away from between my legs.
Magnar dips his finger into me again, swirling it gently around, and pulls it out. Khay opens his mouth, and Magnar puts that finger inside.
“Taste your queen, Khay.”
XXV Communion
I don’t make a sound, half-convinced I must have dreamed this, because depravity of this kind is impossible. Khay’s dark eyes glitter as he seals his lips around Magnar’s finger and sucks it into his mouth with a low, appreciative sound. When he pulls back, he bows his head low.
“Thank you, my king.”
“Raduna.”
The redhaired knight replaces Khay at Magnar’s side, his brows drawn tight as if from pain as he watches Magnar stroke me with his fingers, finally pushing the one still wet with Khay’s saliva inside. I tremble, my bare stomach undulating as pressure and heat build in my lower belly, my muscles tightening around Magnar’s finger until he hisses, silver eyes flashing up to my face.
“Your queen enjoys your fealty,” he says with a small smirk, offering that wet finger to Raduna.
“Thank you my king, my queen.”
The knight sucks on the finger with a low, rumbly sound of pleasure. When he gets up, I notice his bulge, big and aroused. When Arvi comes over for his turn, I see he is hard, too.
Magnar pets me for the third time, gathering my wetness on his fingers. Now, his motions make sounds, a sort of embarrassing, gentle squelching. His fingers glide over me easily, and Arvi watches the sight with parted lips, his jaw slack.
“She’s so wet,” he whispers in awe.
“Mmm. My queen keeps her word. I never saw a more willing cunt,” Magnar says with a smile, pushing his finger deeper into me.
We both hiss when I tighten around it, my stomach tensing from a shock of pleasure. As soon as Magnar pulls out, Arvi captures his wrist and takes his finger deep in his mouth, moaning with unabashed bliss.
“Drink your queen’s honey,” Magnar whispers, and Arvi’s cheeks work as if he’s licking the finger clean inside, making sure to get every drop. My belly pulses with pleasure, nipples drawing to tight points, and I try to squirm but it’s hard with my thighs spread so far apart.
“I could take you right now,” Magnar says, turning to me when Arvi gets up. “And you’d love it, wouldn’t you? Does your cunt want my cock, my queen?”
His gaze is hard on my face, his smirk almost cruel as he waits for my reply. I roll my lips inside and bite down, tongue locked in embarrassment. I nod.
“Too bad I always keep my word, too,” Magnar whispers, getting up so suddenly, I flinch. “And I promised my queen we’d take every precaution. Khay, would you hand me that oil?”
Khay rummages in a drawer in a bedside table while Magnar crawls onto the bed, his body naked. I sit up, alarmed, and he beckons me closer.
“Here. I want you spread open for me. Let me eat my feast.”
My throat is so tight, I barely manage to swallow as I move hesitantly closer. He pats the sheets next to him, and I stop, looking him up and down first. His skin is light gray everywhere, long musclesbunching in his thighs as he sits on his heels. The marks on his forearm glow golden, and I clear my throat, desperate to have a moment to breathe. It feels like I’ll lose myself if we keep going.
“You never told me what the last mark meant,” I whisper, voice as hoarse as if I’ve been screaming.
Magnar lifts his hand with a smile, turning it until the marks glitter like jewelry.
“Loyalty, lust, protection… And love, Caliane. I vowed to love you when we married first. Today, I vowed it again. Now let me.”
I shake my head, blinking fast as tears crowd my eyes. Oh, it will be just what I need, to cry on my wedding night like a ninny.
“But that didn’t mean anything, it was just a formality,” I protest, shaking my head.
He snorts softly, leaning closer to cup my cheek. His long hair cascades down his shoulders and arms like a soft curtain.
