Oh, it hurts. He gave me all his length and girth in one go. If I could speak, I’d say that he’s right in that I failed to appreciate how careful and slow he’s always been with me, but that appreciation pales in comparison to thethrillof this. My man is on top of me, snarling and growling like an animal, and the edge of pain fades. Soon all that’s left will be the primal passion. It’s perfect.
It’s also too intense, too fast. I wail into the grass, the weight of him pressing down and deep with every violent thrust turning me mindless. My muscles squeeze tighter and tighter around him until my strong ox of a knight grunts in effort, slowing his movements from necessity. I am on the edge, gasping for breath, when he pulls out and flips me onto my back.
“Can’t have you locking me inside, my queen,” he says, his eyes glittering with pleasure as he shoves my legs open. He bottoms out in a hard, powerful thrust. Lightning paints the plants white, and I scream just as thunder crashes above us so loud, my ears ring.
I clutch Raduna closer, my fingers skidding down his slick ribcage. He’s covered in sweat, my man gleaming from the effort of fucking me. His hardness plows through me, unrelenting and greedy. On his next thrust, he grabs my hand and presses it roughly to my stomach.
“Feel me. Feel hownaturalit is—when a man fills a woman so much, her body can’t contain him.”
I press my shaking hand to my skin, gasping when he drives himself deep, my stomach rippling and protruding. Oh, it’s cruel. I still haven’t quite gotten used to this and I don’t think I ever will, but when I try to take my hand away, Raduna holds down my arm with a snarl.
“No, keep touching us. Tell me how it makes you feel.”
“Afraid,” I gasp, completely honest. “And mad with lust. And like I’ll fall apart. Full.”
“Stuffed full of me,” he confirms, thrusting so hard, our bodies smack together.
Another thunder rolls. The storm must be right above us, reaching its crescendo. My entire body shakes, stretched past reason and capability, and when Raduna grips my palm and presses it down hard, I need only one more thrust to come with a gurgled cry, wetness gushing out of me. He stills inside me, and I swear I feel it as he shoots his seed deep into my womb. My body clenches around him, and he grunts with pleasure.
I expect him to collapse, but he hisses quietly and pushes my hand away from my stomach. He lays his palm on top of the rigid protrusion of his cock and strokes. My pussy spasms with an oversensitive ache and I cry out in dismay.
“That’s natural, too, isn’t it?” he asks, mocking me. “I rarely have enough of you, my queen. Every time you fall asleep, I force myself to pull away and let you rest or give another man his turn. So how’s this? Do you want me to stop?”
Oh, I do. I’ve had enough, and I fear the orgasm building painfully between my legs will rip through me like thunder. It won’t be pleasant. I am too sore, too tight, too full.
But there’s a part of me, a perverse, shameful one, that likes hurting and being used. It’s the same part that loves being taken by four men all through the night, relentlessly stuffed, conquered even in sleep. It’s why we fit so well, me and my men. Why I can handle having a husband and three knights.
“It hurts,” I moan. “Don’t stop.”
“No, I won’t,” he grunts, rubbing himself harder through my throbbing flesh. “Even when I was breeding you and praying you’d give me a child, I was well behaved. I took you nicely, just once, when it was my turn, even though I wanted to cover you in my seed. I need you to drip with it. When you walk back to the castle, it will run down your thighs. I have much stored for my queen.”
He moves his hand faster, and I thrash, shaking my head with a cry. The pressure of his hand reaches deep into a place where sensitivity flares, tightening like a noose. A moment longer… He snarls, his hand pressing down until my stomach is almost flat, his length completely buried in me.
I come, gushing and crying, the ecstasy like agony tearing through my flesh. He speeds up with a loud groan, stilling a moment longer. I am filled beyond comprehension, well bred, and not in the polite sense.
“Now, that’s enough.”
He puts his arm around me and rolls us until we lie on our sides. I nuzzle my face into his chest, heaving with deep breaths, and he strokes my back. We lie in silence, listening to the soundsof thunder that come from farther away than before. Rain pounds the greenhouse. My eyes fall shut, and I wake with a start when Raduna slides out of me with a murmur and a caress. I struggle to open my eyes as he covers me in soft, warm fabric and picks me up as if I weigh nothing. I try to speak. Wasn’t I supposed to walk? Didn’t he want to see my legs covered in it? But my tongue is still and wooden, and my knight makes no more demands. His steps are even and assured as he carries me through the cool drizzle of the early evening.
I manage to peel my eyes open when Raduna deposits me in the bath adjoining our chamber. Warm water pours in, and I sit up with a sigh, lifting my hair so it doesn’t get wet. When our eyes meet, his face crumples in guilt. My knight kneels by the tub, his shoulders tense, oozing regret.
“Oh.” I shake my head, caressing his cheek. “None of that. I commanded you and you did exactly what I asked. I’d like you to do it again soon.”
“I hurt you.”
His deep, ragged voice sends shivers racing down my back. I smile and nod. “Yes. You also gave me a lot of pleasure, and you obeyed my commands. You did well, my knight. I shall reward you for outstanding service to the crown.”
He frowns, not convinced by my words. He’s about to say something when the bathroom door opens and Magnar comes in, toweling off his wet hair. His shirt is off, his chiseled torso gleaming with droplets of water. He must have been outside. I give him a long, appreciative look. It’s such a luxury to be surrounded by beautiful men.
He casts the towel aside and ties his hair on his nape.
“There you are. What’s that?” Magnar points at the bite marks on my forearm. They sting a little but no longer bleed. The wounds are really shallow, considering how much they bled, and I’m afraid they won’t leave scars.
“A little love bite,” I say with a smirk, determined not to make Raduna feel guilty about it.
Magnar turns to him, his brows questioningly raised. “Did you do that?”
Our knight nods in silence. Magnar shrugs, shooting me a surprised look. “I didn’t know you were into that, love. We could explore it later.”
