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Oh my fates. When the commander moans, it sounds as if he purrs from the inside of his chest. I never thought I would hear this male make such a noise. I look up and behind me and find his head is thrown back, his jaw clenched, and his nostrils flaring. It appears as if he’s struggling to regain control of himself, which tells me he might want more from me, more of me.
He wants pleasure, but he won’t ask. I’m sure it’s some sort of twisted oath he took upon himself. I don’t know. Nobody does. The commander is a difficult male to understand.
What if I offered to please him?
Before I lose courage, I slide off his knee and scoot to kneel between his legs. The backs of my heels press against my red cheeks.
He doesn’t protest or stop me when I reach for the buttons on his uniform. Slowly, I unbutton them. Under the jacket, he wears a plain black T-shirt. I run my palm over the peaks and valleys of his muscles. What I wouldn’t give to see him nude.
I reach for his belt and look up, seeking permission. He doesn’t give me one, but he also doesn’t protest when I release his weapons harness. It thuds to the floor, and I nearly jump out of my skin. He doesn’t even flinch, and I wonder why he allowed it to fall like this when he could easily have taken control of the object. Perhaps he wishes to scare me off.
It won’t happen. I want to pleasure him.
I want to hold him in my hand and mouth.
I want to watch him lose it.
I release his length, and in my hand, it stands thick and proud like the male himself. There is a thick golden ring wrapping under his mushroom top. It looks constricting, leaving me wondering what it’s for, then I remember that the commander is chaste. It must be some sort of self-torture device.
I squeeze the bottom of his shaft, making the top leak white fluid. It trails down the length of him, reaching my fingers. I squeeze again, and more liquid comes out, trailing down and over my fingers. I stick out my tongue and lick my fingers, taste his cum. Oh my fates. The flavor of him explodes on my tongue, and I whimper, wanting more. I do the same thing he did and swipe up his liquid, then put it in my mouth.
Yum.
The commander looks down at me, his lids at half-mast. “Are you teasing me?”
I shake my head.
“Then what are you waiting for?”
I swallow. “I’ve never done this before.”
“Are you waiting for my orders?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What do you want to do with me?”
“I want to please you.”
“Then I can tell you that if you’re not choking on it, I won’t be pleased. And if by the time you’re done you’ve not made a puddle of your liquid heat on the floor under your spread legs, I’ll most definitely not be pleased. Get your mouth working on me and your fingers working on you.”
Holy fates.
“Now,” he growls.
The moment I opened my mouth, the commander fisted my hair and shoved my head down, positioning his shaft at the back of my throat. I choked on it before choking on the cum he forced down my throat.
He watched me make myself come while I pleasured him. He watched me grow miserably more aroused even as I gushed liquid heat out of me, forming a puddle indeed.
Before he left, he made me promise I wouldn’t touch myself anymore. “Self-restraint,” he said, “is a virtue many know nothing about.” He intends to teach it to me. Says it will make me a better queen.
28
D’ARTARON
After I left the queen’s quarters, I swam, then trained all night, then swam again. At dawn, when Pavonos arrived, informing me everything was ready for the funeral of the Spring royals I dressed and attended, keeping my distance from the queen.
Keeping us separated helps with her heat. I don’t wish to send her into the heat that would compromise the mission when we’re so close to achieving the necessary order in her court.
