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He growls, stands and scoops me up with one arm as he goes. Placing me on all fours on the table, he comes up behind me, grips the back of my dress in both big hands, and rips it down the centre, exposing my spine and backside.
A dark sound rumbles throughout the room, thickening the air I try to breathe: a hiss from his teeth, a groan from his throat. “Is that what you really want? What if you could choose? What would you do?”
“I— I don't know. That's a scary question. I only know what is required of me, not what I want.”
A huge hand lands on my upper back, covering the plane shoulder to shoulder, and pushes me down until my cheek stamps the cool table.
“Remember to be very still for your king.”
That is all he has to say…
My eyes widen on the shiny wooden surface that spans out in front of me, as I listen to him unfastening his belt and lowering his pants.
A hand grips my hip, long fingers reaching to hold my pelvis. “I will feel myself here when I’m inside you.” The thick, hot bulb of his cock rubs between my thighs, travelling up and down the slick valley.
I push back into him, wanting the stretch, to be filled. Needing all the nerves that prickle inside me to be touched, stroked, praised. Like he can do. I never knew it before, but now that I know, I want it.
He hums. “Good girl. Arching your back like a wanton, little Silk Girl. It will hurt, sweet thing. I’ll see your pussy stretched to its limits.”
His grip on me tightens as he pushes through my folds, opening me up in one long, thorough thrust inward. “Oh, fuck, Aster. My sweet Aster.”
Sounds of relief, pain, fear, and excitement burst from me as he takes me from full to almost empty, and then full again. Each time he hits the end of me, hard, a spark of fire bursts through my abdomen, moments before warmth rolls the length of my i
I gasp for air.
His warm, rough hand on my hip bruises, his fingers holding my pubis, as though he can feel the area expanding with each pump of his hips. “I can’t stop. Tell me to stop, little creature. I don’t want to hurt you, but… fuck.” He pants and groans as he continues to use my body. “Use your claws on the table. I am watching. I will stop.”
My fear disappears.
Instantly, I lift my hands to either side of my head, but… I don’t dig my nails into the wood. I don’t need to. It’s painful in the most u
I feel it.
Feel all the intensity of each thrust. Feel his heaving weight. The bite of his hand at my hip. The power in his thighs as he tenses.
I feel high—euphoric and crazed.
I feel free from my thoughts.
And when he starts to shudder and growl, the beast in him rears up with three punishing thrusts that buck yelps through my lips, knock reality from my vision, and show me three seconds of how powerful he can be.
He stays deep, his cock filling and pumping, filling and pumping, the pulses so precise, so powerful that pleasure bursts into my ears and seizes my thighs. And I tremble with my own release at the same time.
I mewl, lost, my body sore and heavy.
He holds my backside up with one hand.
“I'll make it easy then.” His voice is deep, strained, and deliciously satiated. “I'll erase the decades of conditioning. I will own you, body, mind, spirit. You will stay with me. Let me make myself very clear to you, little creature. You are mine. And this”—his hand presses over my womb— “child, is mine. Not The Trade's. Not The Cradle's. Mine!”
If a word could bite, the way he expels ‘mine’ would draw scarlet ribbons from flesh.
Panting, I lay lax on the table, my backside elevated by his hand.
Earlier, when I saw him again, my heart was hot and frantic for him, and I wanted to nurture that warmth. His words feed and nest in just the right place, and I realise, I want to stay with him, but… We ca
Can we?
“Everything we do is for The Cradle,” I say, utterly confused, completely spent.
As he slides his cock out, a choked cry burst from me. Being empty of his thick, pulsing pressure throws me into another wave of pleasure, where I’m left spi
“Oh, my king…”
He lowers my backside, and muscles I didn’t know I had ache with exhaustion.
“That’s a good girl.” He brushes his palm down my spine, and I practically vibration with delight. “I will serve The Cradle. You serve me. Only me. Rest assured that you’re safe. That the men in power, the men you fear, fear me. You will never leave my side. You will never be sent away. You belong to me until the last beat of your heart.”
A trembling breath squeezes from my lungs.
“Say it, Aster. Who do you belong to?”
A happy tear slides to the table. “You, my king.”
“Forever, little creature.”
“Forever, my king.”