Ransom

“I need to come…” I gasp. I feel as though my clit is on fire, hotter and tighter and swollen, just like my lower lips. He is making a complete mess of my pussy, and I am loving every moment of it.

I cry out with fresh peaks of pleasure rippling through every part of me as he slams me down on his cock so he is all the way inside me. There is no part of my pussy not being thoroughly dominated by him.

“Hold it,” he insists, his eyes locked on mine. “Don't you dare come, princess. Not before I allow you. I want you to hold on.”

I don’t think I can hold on. I grip his shoulders and I squeeze my eyes close and I try so desperately hard to obey him. I have pleased him so little, and I want to manage it now.

He is grunting. And growling. And his cock feels as though it is bigger. Is that possible? Or am I getting tighter? Is my pussy clenching so fucking hard he won’t ever be able to get out?

“ASTARIA!” He shouts my name as he clenches my ass cheeks. His hips thrust upward and his seed shoots deep inside me, splashing inside my sensitive walls. “Now, princess! Come for me.”

Finally given permission, I orgasm so hard I can barely contain it. I am screaming and writhing, my hips working on his cock in a circular grinding motion that intensifies both our climaxes. I feel my climax washing over me, all the way from my pussy to my toes and the roots of my hair. I am consumed by it almost entirely, not so much a person as I am an intense burst of feeling.

“Such a good girl,” Blackmane growls, holding me close as his cock pumps remnants of seed up inside me. “My good little princess.”

I am weeping against his chest, and I don’t know why. To say this was cathartic would be to say too little. I feel as though I have been made all over from the beginning. I am no longer myself. I am his. And maybe, I am a better me.

Chapter Seven

Blackmane

“I hear the human did not detonate. You should have let her explode.”

Redpelt is unhappy with me. I can tell the moment I walk onto the bridge. His red mane is practically vibrating with affront. I find it quite amusing because I am in a very good mood. I have deflowered Astaria. My seed swims about her womb, perhaps already sparking new life. The terrible human has been tamed, and all it took was a good dose of my cock.

“She is not a danger,” I say, slapping his back.

“I think she has proved unequivocally to be very much a danger.” Redpelt frowns. “Mate her quickly. Get the lust from your system so you can see what lies beneath the pretty skin of the human beast. She is not safe. She should be removed from the Dawnhammer at once. Again, I offer to remove her myself.”

“I have mated her, Redpelt, and I can assure you that I have not lost interest.”

“Oh gods no, look what she’s done! Trapped you between her thighs. You’ve left a part of yourself in that tight cunt, haven’t you.”

He’s crude, and he’s right, but for the wrong reasons.

“She’s not as bad as she seems.”

“We’re holding three funerals because of her.”

We are interrupted by a call. It comes at a useful time because defending Astaria is not easy outside the confines of my own mind where it seems to make sense.

“It’s King Arthas. Her father. Give her back.”

I shoot a glare at Redpelt. He needs to tame his tongue. But first, I will speak to the father of my no-longer-a-virgin princess.

When the video connection is opened, I have a strange and awkward view. The king is leaning back in his chair. I cannot see his face so much as I can see the underside of his white bearded chin. Astaria’s father likes to dress like a traditional royal. He’s wearing a red robe and a crown, I think, judging by the occasional metallic glint seen on the other side of his hair.

He addresses me with a casual lack of respect, not even bothering to say hello or give me the due of my title. Even if I did not know a thing about him, I’d hate him instantly. There is an easy arrogance about the old man that makes me want to beat him.

“Are you ready to return my daughter yet?”

“No.”

“Of course, I… Excuse me, no?”

“No.”

The king swivels to look at me directly, his face taking up nearly the entirety of the screen. He is attempting to dominate me at a distance, using the force of his personality to make me obey his will. It does not work. He is an old man, deep wrinkles lining his face, a red nose, and bloodshot eyes. He looks like a tired and vice-ridden old soak. Nothing to fear. He’s fortunate I only took Astaria. I could have taken everything. The longer I look into those old, corrupt eyes, the more I feel the urge to run through his territory like a hot knife, cutting away old growth and taking what I please.