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“I’m grateful, Juliette.” His voice is hoarse, jagged.
“So am I. Grateful to you.” I sway toward him in the velvet darkness, until I can feel the heat of his skin through my dress, until the softness of me is pressed against the hard planes of his chest.
My arms wind around his body, pulling him tighter against me, and when I tip up my face, his lips find mine. The kiss is soft and hot, a slow flame licking between us, a glow broadening like dawn along the horizon.
Rupert flicks his tongue across mine, teasing me, and my body responds with an answering quiver of need between my legs. He’s pushing my dress farther off my shoulders, his fingers playing along the neckline, tracing the arches of my breasts.
“We can’t fuck,” I say breathlessly. “We’re just supposed to hide down here until they can smuggle us out. And besides—I’m on my monthly bleeding.”
“I don’t care.” He kisses me again, rough and sloppy this time, a demanding wet kiss that makes me liquid with desire.
“It would be so messy,” I whisper.
“I can craft a spell to clean up afterward.”
“You can do that? Why didn’t you do that when we fucked in the kitchen?”
“Didn’t want to waste the magic then. But right now, if it’s a question of fucking you or not, I’ll use every bit of magic in my body as long as I can come in that pussy of yours.” He’s breathing ragged and heavy, with an ache in his voice that’s beyond lust. “I’ve been thinking about you every minute of every day and night, sweetheart—it’s the only thing that kept me alive, kept me sane… and when I say I need you I mean it with every bone in my body. I need to be near you, in you.”
His voice cracks on the last two words, and the vulnerability nearly breaks my heart.
“Can you magic a little light?” I whisper.
He says something in the Elventongue, and a filmy golden illusion springs to life over our heads—a constellation of tiny yellow stars. It illuminates the space we’re in, which is about the size of a small bedroom, unfurnished and bare except for a jug of water, a basket of provisions, and a couple blankets over in the corner.
In that glow I see my Half-Elf, his beautiful naked body crisscrossed with leather, sitting on the floor, watching me with those brilliant azure eyes.
“I won’t let you lick me during my bleeding,” I tell him. “Even if you don’t think that’s disgusting, I do, and it’s my choice. But if you really want to fuck me…” I pull down the bodice of my dress and lift my tits out so they’re on full display. “Come and show me how grateful you are.”
31
I capture the huge globes of her breasts with both hands, thumbing her nipples eagerly. Juliette leans back against the wall with a soft whimper while I gather her tits, bury my face between them, suck on those tight nipples one after another.
She can’t seem to take her eyes off my body. My leather slave-garb appeals to her, even though she won’t admit it.
“Would you like to be on a throne with me at your feet?” I whisper, kissing my way up her neck.
“I…” She’s panting, her skin flushes in rosy patches over her breasts and throat.
“Would you like me as your pet? My strength, utterly at your mercy? My will subjugated to yours?”
“That’s wrong,” she gasps.
“Not if we both enjoy it and agree to it.”
“Maybe,” she relents, her voice barely above a breath.
“A game we can play together sometime,” I assure her. “Lie on your stomach, sweetheart, and lift that magnificent ass for me.”
On knees and forearms, she lifts her rear high, and I push her skirts up around her waist before gently pulling down her stockings and underwear. There’s a wad of cloth with a crimson stain, and I take care not to dislodge it from the panties as I work the stockings and underwear further down her legs.
She’s slick with scarlet, arousal and blood. A primal part of me appreciates this sign of her fertility, the knowledge that in a week or so, she’d be ripe for me to put a child in her belly.
That thought should terrify me. I’ve always sworn I’d never impregnate a human woman like my father did. I’ve never thought of myself as a decent enough person to be a father. And yet, with Juliette at my side… maybe I could be.
“Rupert,” she says thickly. “How long are you going to stare at my pussy?”
“Just a moment longer, love.” I fondle her bottom with both hands, delighting in its generous, dimpled curves. “You’re fucking beautiful, you know.”
