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He leans down and whispers, "I suppose you don't like this either?"
I hate it. I hate it so much I could scream. I hate the fact that my core is aching and my cunt, pulsing against the fingers of someone I don't know, someone I can't see. Above all, I hate the fact that loving all these wild, disgusting things he forces on me proves that he's right. I am exactly what he accuses me of being.
Unless I'm much mistaken, a tongue flicks my clit, and I can't help it. I moan. The sound is wrenched out of my lungs, forced out of me.
Yes, yes, yes!
I’m so very close.
The moment I realize I’m about to come one some stranger’s tongue, I fight it.
"That's it, darling,” Doryn whispers. “Take all the pleasure. Soar for me."
I whimper, shaking my head. I refuse to. I can't. Fighting my orgasm is my last defense, and I will not give in. I won't. I won't, I won't, I won't. I repeat the mantra to myself, again and again. Even as I explode all around a stranger's fingers, I'm still singing those words to myself.
I won't give in.Whatever defiance I have left, I'm going to cling to.Even though I’m delightfully relaxed, and feeling waves of pleasure course through me. Even though parts of me love this.
After I come, the king claps his hands together, victorious. "I think that's quite conclusive, friends. It pleases my lady of pleasure to please me."
The next time I try to kill him, I won't cry. I'll grin over his corpse.
I am scooped up again and dragged onto Doryn's lap, as the tables are cleared away,the lamps lit and the musicians start. The kingdom of night is drunk on wine and humiliation, half in love with their king for sharing his whore, and my people, the good folks of the south, have lost whatever dignity they would have clung to beyond the border. The dances are closer to fucking than swaying, and no one bothers to hide that fact.
I am both horrified and fascinated by this strange place, half brothel, half court.
I nurse my anger and pride, even as the king trails kisses up mycollarboneand softly runs his hands on my arms, mysensitive thighs, his stiff cock digging against my butt cheeks.
He converses with his friends, paying particular attention to the man who so looks like Vessorian, at the end of the table.
I wonder if he touched me. Did I come on his finger? On Silver's orCastien's? I flush all over again.
"What do you think, Rhea?"
I'm startled to hear my name. I wasn’t following the conversation at all. Rather than admitting it out loud, I snap. "Am I here to think?"
Apparently, I'm hilarious. The entire circle chuckles.
If he wants to pretend I'm here for anything other than satisfying his baser instincts, good for him. I won’t deign to play his game.
"One would have guessed you felt one way or another about traveling south with us or remaining here at court." Doryn's smile is deceptively charming. "But as you don't care, I might leave you behind. I don't doubt my court will take very good care of you in my absence."
Sheer fear gnaws at my bones as I remember all the hands, all the tongues and fingers. They slowly escalated their actions, happily lapping at me. What would they have done to me if he hadn't been here? Where would they have stopped?
I chew on my lower lip, desperate for a lifeline while cursing myself. I should have paid attention to the conversation. I should have thought before spewing the reply likely to be the most offensive to Doryn. He might like fucking me enough to let me keep my neck, but he's proved time and time again that he is perfectly willing to punish me. I just didn't think a few wayward words would warrant his leaving me at the mercy of his brutal court.
I find myself glancing at Vessorian for help. I don't know why. Maybe I hit my head harder than I thought yesterday.
The advisor raises an eyebrow, tilting his chin to the king. I look at Doryn again, catching amusement in his midnight eyes. I understand then. He's just toying with me—again. He doesn't truly intend to leave me here alone.
"I'd like to go south," I grumble.
"Would you?" Doryn's eyes dance with malice and amusement. "You don't sound certain."
I fantasize about wrapping my hands around his throat and squeezing. "Please, take me with you."
"Better. I'd love to stop by your land on our way back,Vornel," Doryn says to the silent dark-haired lord. “I’ve never been to Autumn.”
The man inclines his head. "It's your realm, my king."
