Page 44 of Kneel Before Me

Daphne smiled. “What are you thinking about?” she whispered.

Maximus didn’t hesitate for even a moment. “Everything I want to do to you.”

Daphne was thinking of everything she wanted Kronos to do to her. She thought of the terrifying power she sensed in the basilisk, and how it made her feel. She pictured him touching her the way she was touching herself, sliding his fingers between her legs and stroking her until she came. Daphne wanted nothing more than to give him that.

To Maximus, she said, “What do you want to do the most?”

The prince shook his head. “Too many things to count.”

“Choose one.”

His lips twitched. It was delicious to see him like this: desperate for her.

Daphne never thought she’d hold a prince in the palm of her hand. Not even Veronica, with her tits out all night, had managed to make it to the prince’s bathtub. Daphne had done it without even touching him. “I want to make you come.”

She shrugged. “Anyone can make me come.”

“Not like I can.”

Daphne smiled.

Maximus frowned, his gaze trained on hers, his eyebrows raised. Her response was clearly not the one he had expected. “Do you not believe me?”

Daphne shrugged again. She was far past the point in her sexual experience where she was impressed by promises or mere bluster. Men were always telling her they could blow her mind. It was just like the conversation she’d had with Kronos: Do you truly think there is nothing I could do that would make you tremble? Only when Kronos said it, she believed it.

“Why do you want to make me come?” she asked.

“So you can feel good.”

“I feel good already.”

“So you can feel incredible.”

Daphne snorted. “No one has ever made me feel incredible.”

Maximus leaned forward. “In that case, I shall be the first.”

“I really doubt it.”

“Why not give me the chance to impress you?”

Now Daphne leaned forward. Her fingers were still inside her. “You want to impress me? Make me smile. Make me laugh. Make me care.” She looked him dead in the eye. “And then make me come.”

Maximus held her gaze, and Daphne could have sworn she felt the temperature between them rise. It was already sweltering in here; steam from the bath filled the room. And with Maximus looking at her as if he intended to do everything she’d just demanded of him, it only felt hotter.

Daphne touched herself quicker now, chasing a steady rhythm. She allowed her head to fall back, knowing Maximus would watch her throat. She never let him see too much of her body, certainly not her breasts or her center. He hadn’t earned it, and he probably never would. But that didn’t stop her from touching anything she wanted to touch. Maximus did not touch himself in return. Daphne didn’t expect him to. She hadn’t requested it, and she didn’t want to see it anyway.

Instead, he sat perfectly still, staring at her with unrelenting focus as he asked, “How many fingers are you using?”

She looked him in the eye. “Two.”

“Use three.”

“Why should I?”

“Because I’m telling you to.”

“Give me a better reason.”