I lift my hand and run my thumb down her cheek, then graze it over her bottom lip. Her tongue darts out and licks it.
“Is that what you want, Rupert? For me to suck your cock?”
She’s vulgar. Raw. Honest. It’s like she’s reached through my chest and she’s holding my heart in her hand. She wants the truth. She wants me.
“Yes.”
“All you had to do was ask.”
Her hands move to the bottom of my shirt, pushing it up and over my head. She bends, darting her tongue out to lick my nipple. A tremor runs through my body as she stands and fingers the buttons on her vest, slowly unfastening each one.
Oh, she’ll do what I ask, but she sure as hell won’t make it easy.
23
Hildi
Wide-eyed and full of wonder.
That’s what Rupert looks like, sitting on the couch half-naked and fully erect. I walked in here so pissed, so enraged that I hadn’t even noticed he was in the middle of jerking off. That’s one way of getting my mind off everything.
The best way.
I stand before him now, looking at his lean body. He’s physically younger than the others. Stunted at the age of his death—twenty-one. He’s missing the thickness of the others. Bulk that comes with age. Instead, he’s long lines and scattered hair. He’s cut. Virile. Eager.
I unfasten the buttons on this stupid vest, letting it hang open. I’m thrilled someone else gets the pleasure of seeing me in it other than Roland. Rupert’s eyes burn into my skin, passionate and hungry.
I start to kick off the shoes when he says, “Keep them on.”
“As you wish.”
I’ll do whatever he wants, any way he wants, I just want him to be part of this.
I bend over him again, kissing his mouth. Warm fingers graze the underside of my breasts, sending a tingle across my skin. He explores my body, and I do the same to him. Kissing his neck, his smooth shoulders, his chest. I linger on his nipples, they seem overly sensitive, and he hisses in delight.
“Hold on,” I whisper, knowing he’s quick to blow. But if the scene I walked in on says anything, he’s been working on his stamina.
I get on my knees, kissing down his stomach, licking his belly button, grazing my teeth over his hip bones. He rises up, seeking friction, seeking warmth.
I wrap my hand around him, and he gulps down air.
His fingers thread through my hair, and he tugs me forward, desperate.
I lick his tip, tasting the salty fluid dripping down the side, and he shudders beneath me like a volcano, trembling under the surface. I know I can’t drag this out, I’m probably already pushing his limits, so I slide my tongue down his shaft getting him slippery wet and swallowing him whole. He reacts instantly, lurching
forward, but he’s not the first dick I’ve had in my mouth—not even the biggest, although he’s well-endowed.
Perfectly endowed.
I rest a hand on his stomach, easing him back down. His hand stays in my hair, but the grip is softer.
Together we set the pace, mostly off the rhythm of his breathing, off the pull of my hair, off the thrust of his hips. My body grows warm, lost in the feeling of my own arousal, the dampening between my legs, the ache in my nipples. He settles in nicely, trusting, and when he starts to gain speed, his breathing growing erratic, his hands sliding from my hair to my neck, I brace for him; for the intensity, for the release.
When it comes I’m not ready, his cock slamming into the back of my throat, his cum hot and steady. I gulp it down, licking my lips, and before I can even check on him he’s pulled me off the ground and into his lap.
“The gods sent you for sure,” he says, kissing my mouth, my jaw, my neck. His fingers trail over my hard, pebbled nipples. “That was nothing I’ve experienced before.”
I shake my head. “I don’t believe that. You were a prince. You could have anyone.”