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“More,” I whisper. “I need more.”
“And you shall have it, dear wife.”
His wet tongue swipes at my clit, and my vision explodes into stars. I squeeze my eyes shut and groan.
“Did you like that?” he asks, his voice husky.
“Yes,” I say from between clenched teeth. “Please, I need more.”
King Henry sighs, his warm breath fanning over my fevered flesh. “You beg so prettily, my queen.”
Need burns in my core like an inferno. He talks too much when he should be fucking. I buck my hips and moan, “T-touch me.”
His tongue takes a second swipe a my clit, this time, making the muscles of my pussy clench in anticipation. He pushes my legs further apart, laying me bare.
“You have such a beautiful cunt,” he murmurs into my folds. “So pink and wet.”
“Yes.”
He makes delicate, deliberate strokes, as though I’m a delicious morsel he needs to savor. Impatience skitters across my skin making it tighten, and I clench and unclench my fists.
This is too slow, too soft, too sweet.
King Henry is too much of a gentleman.
I need more friction.
I need it rough.
Reaching down, I twist my fingers into his red hair and hold him in place.
He chuckles. “My, you’re eager.”
“Harder.” I jerk my hips. “Faster.”
“As my queen commands.”
He pushes down with his tongue, lavishing me with firmer strokes. Tingles travel across my flesh, making my nipples tighten and my toes curl.
With his free hand, he reaches beneath his layers of robes, presumably to play with his cock. I circle my hips in counterpoint to the movement of his tongue.
This is enjoyable, but not enough.
The Boogie Man wouldn’t be so gentle.
The Boogie Man would take what he wanted.
Hell, the monster King Henry became fucked my throat without mercy, without restraint. I imagine the Boogie Man between my legs instead of this red-headed man, and my arousal spikes.
Moisture trickles down my inner thighs, making me squirm. The Boogie Man would probably growl as he feasted on my pussy.
“Oh, fuck,” I say.
“That’s right, my love,” he says.
King Henry traces wet circles around my clit in time with the fingers sliding in and out of my channel.
I bite down on my bottom lip, roll my nipples between my fingers, and try to conjure up how the Boogie Man’s claws would feel pressing into my thighs.
