Masked Prince (Fated Royals 2)

“Come here,” I told her.

She rose and came to me where I was seated. It was an altar, more or less, where I could sit and she could kneel on a padded stool before me so she could worship my cock with her mouth. She stood before me, not kneeling yet, and I undressed her completely. The dress, the corset, all of it fell to the stone floor, piece by piece. It was a fucking production, all those clothes, but by then, I knew how to get her naked as well as I knew how to undress myself.

Once she was fully nude, in all her fucking beautiful glory, I traced a line from her tits, across her collarbone, then down the small of her back, her ass, to her full, heavy thighs. She stood still, letting me do as I pleased, never questioning me, never sassing me. She fucking knew the rules. And she knew the power of obedience.

From the wall, I took a length of waxed cord and bound her hands behind her back. Standing behind her, with one hand on each of her shoulders, I guided her down to kneel before me. Once there, I checked to make sure her full belly was comfortable on her thighs.

Coming back around in front of her, I hooked her jaw with the tip of my finger and raised her face so she was looking at me. Usually when I had her on her knees, it was for one reason and one reason only: so that I could shoot my cum into her throat, or her mouth, or all over her face. But this time, I had a surprise for her first.

I took a long second to just study her, to take her in, the way people do with cathedrals and harvest moons. She was everything sacred to me. She was everything that mattered. “I love you,” I said. “So fucking much.”

Her eyes glistened with a quick flush of emotion. “I don’t know what I would do without you,” she said. “As a father, my husband, my King.” She inhaled, breathing deeply. “I’m so lucky.”

I shook my head. “I’m the lucky one, beautiful. Now, close your eyes. I’ve got something for you.”

She blinked a few times and then did just as I asked. Quietly as I could, I walked away from her. As I got things ready, I thought of what she was hearing, rather than what I was doing. Me walking away. A rustling of fabric. Clothes, or maybe sheets, or maybe neither. Hinges opening, then closing. Silence for a moment. Then the sound of my footsteps returning.

I took my place before her and said, “Open them.”

Her eyes sparkled and she smiled as she saw me: buck naked, cock hard, crown on my head. Then her mouth fell open as she saw what I had hooked over my finger.

“Happy anniversary,” I told her, as the huge ruby pendant swung before her eyes. It was pear-shaped, an inch and a half across, encrusted in diamonds and gold. I’d had it cut for her from a raw ruby, the Bloodstone of Aramoor, which had been in my family for generations.

“Oh my God,” she gasped.

Enough waiting. I needed to be inside her, and I needed it now. “Open your mouth,” I growled.

Without protest, without question, she did as I asked, and took my dick into her mouth. I leaned into her to get deep into her throat. I felt her fighting me because I’d gone in so deep. “Relax,” I said. “Breathe through your nose. You fucking know how to do this, baby. Relax.”

Her shoulders lowered slightly as she calmed down, as her gag reflex released her from instinctive panic. She flattened her tongue under my shaft and worked my length with her lips, up and down, again and again.

As she sucked me, I unfastened the clasp of the necklace and slipped one end of the chain under her throat. When the cold weight of the huge ruby touched her bare skin, she groaned into my cock.

That groan. Of hunger. Of gratitude. Of desire. Of need. It vibrated through my shaft, and through my whole body. Through my whole fucking soul. It was more than enough to push me over the edge. Taking her head in my hands, I deep throated her, arching my head back as I throat-fucked her, and came in a hard and intense explosion, with my balls pressed against her chin.