He grins. “Your cunt is sweeter than honey and fairer than a summer’s bloom. I would kill a thousand men and more just to make you swoon.”
“Are you serious?” I whisper, already knowing the answer.
His green eyes twinkle, and he offers me a dazzling smile. “Tell me, my dear, are you a virgin?”
My throat dries, and the heat of the bath makes my head swim. It was nearly impossible to bring boys back to my room while I lived under Grandma’s roof. Then when I turned eighteen and moved out, I thought my situation would change. It turns out that having a Boogie Man trashing my house put a damper on my sex life.
“Alienor,” he says, his tone sharp with warning. “I expect an answer.”
“I’ve done a few things,” I say with a shrug.
“With that man?” he snarls.
I flinch. “Not with him. Norbert was more of a nuisance.”
“Then who?” There’s a glint in his eye that tells me he intends to track down any man I mention and decapitate them with his claws. “Who else do I have to kill?”
“Just my fingers and a few other objects,” I murmur.
His features soften, and the hand at the base of his cock makes a slow progression up his shaft. “Good girl.”
My heart flutters. Maybe he isn’t so terrible.
“Show me,” he rasps. “I want to see what you do when I’m not there to give you pleasure.”
He’s probably referring to events from eight-hundred years ago, even though we’ve both established that I’m not technically his wife. Any other time, I would point this out, but the urgent pressure low in my belly says I should play along with the Boogie Man.
Raising my hips out of the water, I let the warm liquid cascade down my pussy. My clit aches and throbs for his attention. I slip my finger between my slick folds, making him surge at the barrier.
“I would kneel between those beautiful thighs and worship your cunt,” he says, his voice choked. “I would lick and suck and caress you while you shatter.”
“What else would you do?” I rub a slow circle around my clit.
“Invite me in,” he says, his voice seductive and low. “Invite me in and give this humble king permission to adore his queen.”
My breath catches.
My pussy throbs.
My libido whispers at me to say yes.
The Boogie Man has a certain way with words. I almost want to see if he can make good on his promises. Self-preservation screams that I should end it now before he becomes even more obsessed, but I shove that thought aside.
It doesn’t work because common sense takes over. This isn’t the same kind of stalker as Norbert—his eight-hundred times worse. The dead necromancer only wanted a girlfriend but went about things like a creep. No matter how charming the Boogie Man acts, he still wants me dead.
But what if I broke his chastity curse?
Maybe he’d be grateful enough to stop salivating over my death if I found a way to help him. He might even give me a sexy reward.
“On my honor as a gentleman and a king, I swear to only give you pleasure today,” he groans, bringing me away from my thoughts.
My gaze snaps back to the Boogie Man.
He stands with both palms against the invisible barrier and rolls his hips to the rhythm of my fingers. Grains of salt spill from each of his four heads. The tiny crystals glints in the sun as they cascade down his thick shaft and over his leathery legs.
I bite down on my bottom lip and groan. Is this how the Boogie Man fucks?
“Let me in,” he growls.