Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
“Exposed.”
“You’ll need to get used to it,” he warns. “There is no room for modesty at your future court, Your Majesty.”
The words run like a shiver up my spine. I can almost feel the weight of the crown upon my head. That imaginary crown is my suit of armor as I stand naked before the most dangerous creature I’ve ever known.
“That’s a lesson we can learn… now.” Luthian snaps his fingers and I’m momentarily blinded by a flash of white. Though I can’t see our surroundings change, I hear them, feel them: the shuffle of bodies, the murmur of excited conversation, the heavy feeling of warm, smoke-hazed air. And when the light clears, I stand on a stage, surrounded by luminescent crystals that offer me no shadow to conceal my nakedness.
There is an audience of faeries, seated in spindly chairs, watching me with bemused interest. They smoke pipes and peer through monocles and opera glasses at my defenseless body.
Luthian leans close to my ear. “Touch yourself for them.”
I lift my hand. I know what he means. I’m not so innocent that I can pretend I’ve never given myself relief on a restless night.
But I’m not quick enough to obey, so he takes my hand and guides it for me, stepping behind me to slide our joined fingers down my stomach, to the apex of my thighs. I’m already hot and slick there, already longing despite everything in me crying out that this is shocking. This is wrong.
Perhaps that’s why it’s so arousing.
He spreads the petals of my sex to expose the tingling stamin inside and runs his fingers along either side of its slippery hood. I moan and lean into his touch.
An appreciative murmur passes through the audience.
He replaces his hand with mine and steps back. “Open your eyes, honey flower. Watch all of them watching you.”
Slowly, I lift my face to the audience. My eyes lock with those of a faery in a gown of glittering chains. She wets her lips and pushes the chains aside to reveal her breast and thumb one rosy nipple. My free hand drifts to my own breast. The faery beside her has his cock out; I’ve only ever seen one in paintings, and I can’t tear my gaze from the sight of it passing through his fist again and again. He’s unaware of my attention because his is focused entirely on my hand working between my legs.
“Do you like that?” Luthian asks, pointing to the faery’s long, stiff member.
“I’m not sure,” I confess.
“No, you’re not educated,” he corrects me. “You’re sure that you want all of that hard cock inside of you. Your cunt is crying at its emptiness right now.”
How did he know? How could he possibly have known that every time I stroked myself beneath the covers, I clenched and ached and longed to be filled?
“Put a finger inside,” he orders, and I comply with a groan of relief.
Someone in the audience groans, as well.
“If you like the feeling of your finger, why not the feeling of a cock?” Luthian asks. “I know you’re untouched. It’s not the prize humans make of it. We’ll deal with that, in time.”
We? I imagine him between my legs, crushing me down in a silken bed, holding my hands above my head as he drives into me again and again. His name is on my lips in my fantasy as I throw my head back, mouth open in a cry drowned to silence in a sea of pleasure.
“Keep your eyes open,” Luthian says. I’m so lost in my reverie, I didn’t realize I closed them.
Everyone in the audience is captivated by me now. They no longer speak amongst themselves, but their breathing is audible, as is the rustle of their clothing as they indulge themselves in their own self-pleasure.
I whimper. My toes curl and pop on the stage. My calves ache as if I’m physically climbing toward my peak, and I’m there, nearly there, fingers rubbing inside and out, picking up frantic speed, ready to break. I’m going to come. I’m going to come in front of everyone. They’re going to hear my moans, see me shake, watch me in my most vulnerable moment. I’m going to… I’m…
“Stop.”
The theater around us disappears. We’re in Luthian’s parlor again, and I am dressed in the fine robe and nightgown. Only the throbbing that screams through my denied body is proof that anything happened at all.
“That’s enough practice for tonight.” He waves a hand at me.
A cry sticks in my throat and emerges as an outraged croak.
“I know, I know. You were so close.” He feigns pity to mock me.
“I don’t understand.” I ache, still teetering on the very precipice of release. Why have I been denied?
He turns away and flicks a hand at the hearth, instantly dousing the silver flame there. “You’re not allowed to come tonight. Don’t try. Even should you give into temptation, you won’t be able to finish.”