A Throne of Ruin (Deliciously Dark Fairytales 2)

He sucked harder, still pulsing. His fingers plunged through our wetness, hitting the exact right spot. She melted against the tree, groaning and tilting our head back. Those fingers. Those glorious fingers. We built quickly, breathing hard as our body gyrated against his mouth.

He stopped sucking and worked his tongue with broad, thick strokes. His fingers picked up intensity, his knuckles pounding against our folds. Our body tightened now, gulping for air as pleasure filled us like a vessel—caged, boiling, building, ready to explode.

He pulled his fingers out and backed off, that devilish look back. The rim of that wicked mouth shiny with our juices.

She whimpered in displeasure. We’d been right on the edge. Another couple seconds, and we would’ve found the goal line.

He pushed our knee off his shoulder and rose gracefully. With a large, scarred hand, he grabbed our shoulder and spun us before shoving. We fell forward, palms against the rough bark. His fingers whispered across our back and then the remnants of my binding fell loose, dropping to our feet. His fingers now spread across our skin, starting from our shoulders and kneading down to our waist. His lips followed, skimming, as though he were trying to familiarize himself with every single inch of our body.

His touch, his attentions, his slow movements and silence—the sensuality of this moment was like nothing I’d ever experienced. I was in rapture to see what would happen next, quaking with fear because of his ability for unbridled brutality, and anticipating the pleasure I knew we’d find inside of it.

His palm flattened against the center of our back, and he pushed, bending us farther forward. His lips skimmed lower, kissing and licking down each cheek before moving in. He spread our cheeks then, and his tongue traced along the outside of our asshole before feathering in the middle. Our mouth dropped open with these unexpected sensations, strangely ticklish and erotic. He prodded a bit, wetting the area, before dipping to taste our folds again. His thumb didn’t leave that other hole, though, applying pressure before dipping in, a strange yet not unpleasant feeling, hinting at a level of fullness that we might hate or love, depending on the player.

He kissed our thighs, back to our cheeks, and rose behind us, two of his fingers dipping into our pussy and pumping. He added another finger, stretching to the point of pain. He pushed up harder, getting us ready. He seemed to realize he wouldn’t easily fit, though. Not right away.

“Turn,” he barked.

She made a sound like “Oohhhmmm,” as the force of that command ripped through us. It danced on our nerve endings and whispered across our flesh.

I wanted to say, “Yes, sir,” but thankfully she wouldn’t let me. I was not in my right mind anymore. He’d blotted out reality and created his own world where he was the god and I was happy to learn how to worship him. Thank the goddess for my animal, who knew how to play these games without losing herself to them.

We stood naked before him, our six feet dwarfed by his size, his height a head taller and his breadth not even comparable. His frame rippled with muscle, hard-won from and continually conditioned by his nightly battles. His gaze roamed down our body, unhurried. He lightly traced each scar he found, old wounds too intimately placed for me to ask Hannon to treat them.

His head cocked to the side and his eyes drifted away, like he was listening. “I will take the time I need and no more. If demons followed her, we’ll deal with them easily. Now shut up and let me get acquainted with my goddess. You’ve had all the fun. Without them able to shift, I have been left in the dark.”

His focus back on us, he traced the little cleft in our chin with his thumb before running it along our jaw. He looked at our lips, the tiny freckles I knew were splashed across our cheeks, and then lingered on our blue eyes. Something in our middle stirred within that intense, focused gaze. It was like he was reaching through a window and peering down into our soul, shedding light on all the dark places and weighing what he found. In a moment his lips tilted upward, and pride lit his golden gaze.

“You are truly a remarkable specimen, Finley. The goddess sang when she made you. You are perfect in every way. You will never want for a home or protection. We will provide it, always. This I swear. The man has his own agenda, but it will never come between me and my oath to you.”

He bent forward and kissed us lightly on the lips, an oath sealed.

“Now,” he said when he pulled back. “Drop down to your knees. I want to see how deeply you can take my cock.”