Page 12 of Ravished By the Revenant

It should be demeaning. It should be infuriating. I should be terrified, or mad, or in shock. Instead, my belly cramps as the most powerful orgasm I’ve ever felt rips through me. My pussy clenches hard as I scream so loud it echoes through the castle, a chorus of pleasure. I twist Aldric’s nipple piercing harder than I intended, my body no longer under my control, lost to sensation.

“Fuck!” The revenant shudders against me, then lets out a long, low growl. Warmth blooms where his crotch is pressed against my hip, and I can feel his huge, pierced cock kick rhythmically between our bodies.

I made him come in his old-fashioned pants. The thought makes another powerful aftershock arc through my body.

We’re breathing heavily, still clinging to each other, when I feel the change in him. He freezes for a moment, then holds me at arm’s length. He looks at me, then between us, where sticky cum connects my skin to the soaked material covering his crotch.

“Shit,” Aldric growls darkly. When he takes a sudden step back, I nearly fall over, catching myself in the last moment. “God damn it,” he hisses.

Before I can respond, he turns on his heel and strides away, his boots clapping loudly against the ancient tiles, my eyes dazed and locked on his obscenely delicious ass. Aldric disappears into the darkness, headed in the direction of a turret I didn’t bother to explore yet.

I’m still blinking, my heart racing, when loud purring catches my attention. It’s Shmoo. I search his gaze for judgment, then scoff at myself for anthropomorphizing a cat again. Because of course a cat won’t judge me for rubbing against a grotesquely handsome medieval lord until I came hard enough to almost pass out.

I touch my hip, my fingers coming back sticky, resisting the urge to taste them. Then I frown at where I still hear the revenant stomping up the turret.

“Wait, why are you upset?” I yell after him. “You’re the one who accosted me.” Then quieter: “You freak.”

I need another bath. And maybe antipsychotics.

9

ALDRIC

Ifinished in my pants like an inexperienced stable hand touched by his first scullery maid. How can I face my little intruder again? I’ve been lost for her since the moment she entered my home, and now she will not only think me hideous, but a terrible lover as well.

There’s a cot in this turret, and I’ve been using it since Clara occupied the master bedroom. That is when I wasn’t watching her sleep, getting as close to her as I dared. Close enough to take in her scent of elderberry and basil. I slump on it now, wincing when my soggy pants press against my softening cock.

She did want me. Despite the scars and missing flesh, the parts of me that are stitched and held together by a prayer, she looked at me with curiosity and desire. Her purple-hued eyes grew darker with lust, and her plush lips parted for deeper breaths. Her nipples were pebbled under the soaked underwear, begging to be sucked. And then… then there was wetness on my fingers that had nothing to do with the bath she took. She was hot and slick for me, her pussy ready to be fucked.

Groaning, I unbutton my pants, letting my cock spring out, finally free from the sticky confines of my clothes. It’s already hard again, despite orgasming mere minutes ago. I wrap my fingers around the base, hissing when the sensation makes precum leak from the tip. Slowly, I stroke from root to head, the motions eased by my previous ejaculation. The piercings massage my palm as I imagine my intruder’s soft hand on my rod instead. Though there was nothing soft about it when she pinched my nipple.

I throw my head back. What is she doing to me? There were dozens of pretty servant girls in this castle over the centuries, plenty willing to tangle the sheets with its master, and yet I never reacted like this to any of them. Only my Clara makes me perpetually hard and aching for her.

Thinking about the sound she made when she came in my arms, I start stroking faster. My breathing grows harsher, and soon I’m pumping my hips, fucking my fist. The cot creaks underneath me as my movements grow uncoordinated, my rhythm faltering the closer to orgasm I am.

My balls draw up, every muscle in my body tightening, my breath stopping in my lungs as I⁠—

“Ah, fuck! Clara!”

I fall back onto the cot as ropes of cum paint my fist, my pants, even my shirt. I’m beyond caring about the mess, still lost in the fantasies of my little intruder.

She might think she’s disgusted by me, but I will play her body like a fine instrument, inundate her with pleasure until she craves my touch every waking and sleeping moment. Soon, she will be begging me for my cock, begging for me to fill her.

My cock twitches against my belly at the thought, and I reach for it once more.

Next time will be different. Next time, Clara will come so many times she’ll be sobbing for mercy. And only then will I allow myself to follow.

I’ll be ready for her.

10

CLARA

Itap my fingers against the desk in Aldric’s library, looking around. There has to be something on revenants here. Right? I mean, if I got cursed to be an undead creature forever roaming the night, I’d want to know more about it. Or rather, myself. But so far, I’ve come up empty-handed.

Shmoo purrs up a storm from where he’s sitting on a cushioned chair by one of the bookshelves.

“Well, you’re no help,” I mutter. “And couldn’t you have warned me about the sinfully undeadsome master of the keep? Completely useless.”