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“You can’t force me to give you my vow.”
I tilt my head, delighted by the challenge. Winning too easily is never fun. “Can’t I?”
31
RHEA
Dread washes over me as I realize Doryn absolutely could force me to wed him. All he'd have to do is have Mir stuff me into one of his horrid dresses, drag me to the altar, and remind me that my companions will suffer for my disobedience.
I get to my feet and walk away from the circle, needing some distance while I consider this new predicament.
I check the dictionary I found earlier that day, just to be sure.A consort is indeed a wife.I don't know why, I was so certain it was something simpler, like an official mistress. But the words are right there, on the thick paper: the spouse of a ruling monarch.
I curse myself. I should have asked for clarification rather than agreeing to this bet. Even though I didn't believe Doryn when he claimed I was a succubus, I would have paused before accepting the challenge if I'd known the stakes.
I don't have a fancy education. I was taught to read and write, and calculate simple things, but growing up, there were no expectations of me other than one day marrying a man rich enough to support me. To that aim, I was expected to sing, draw, and embroider. I was incredibly terrible at all three, but Mother believed I was pretty enough to make up for those deficiencies.
My occupation was going to be spreading my legs, popping out a kid that would promptly be handed to a wet nurse, and repeating step one again and again. Mother had proudly done so, birthing seven children—three of which survived beyond infancy. I'm the only one left now.She used to be so mad when I'd sneak out of the house and into the stables to brush my horse and ride. Riding horses does little to attract husbands. She would have much preferred if I'd taken to riding wealthy sons.
She'd often remind me that she herself had been nothing but an orphan whose origins no one knew. She should have become a maid, at best. Instead, she used her wiles to climb to a station far above what others had hoped for her. I was born with more blessings, and she expected no less of me.
Would that she were here to see me now. She wouldn't care what Caldoryn did to us. She wouldn't care about anything but the sheer prestige he's offering.
But she's not here now because of him. And had she still been alive, I wouldn't be here either. I'd be at child number seven, with freakingRupert. Or rather, buried six feet under, because I would have murdered him and be hanged for it.Instead, I get to murder a royal husband.
Husband. The very word makes me wince. I've never wanted one of those, even when it was expected of me. And I certainly wouldn't want CaldorynValderath, the king of night. It's wild that he'd offer me the position. Not to mention, he named me his whorethis morning.
I remember the girl bouncing on his lap and flinch. No wonder he wants out of that particular mess. But why me? It's rather flattering, thoughI'll never admit it out loud. It's also shackling. There's no shedding that title. I can live with being the prisoner whore, but a consort having given her word to him? I'll never be seen as anything else. Doplov, the others—they'd all consider me a traitor.
I drag myself to the bed and then under the cover, glad that no one seems to be paying me much attention. All of a sudden, I'm bone-tired, the lure of sleep tugging at me. My body feels stronger than usual, and the general fatigue making my limbs heavy is absent, but for all that,I barely slept the last couple of days. Part of me doesn't want to here, surrounded by so many enemies, but they don't want to hurt me. Their king wants to marry me, instead. I can't decide if that’s worse.
I fall asleep the very moment I decide it's safe enough. For now.
* * *
I wake to a scream, and realize that it's wrenched out of my mouth. My back curves upward, my toes curl as Doryn licks my folds, taking his sweet time. My hips grind on his face, seeking my release. I can tell I'm close, so very close. How long has he been eating me? Has he done more while I was asleep? And why, oh why, does the thought of that possibility make my core tighten harder yet. I explode all over his face, coating his skin with shine.
Doryn doesn't seem to mind the filth. His tongue darts out to lick his lip as he straightens up, opening his crotch. "We don't have very long, darling Rhea, but I intend to start today as we'll start the next hundred years. With your cum all over my skin and mine deep inside you."
He enters me without preamble, and my drenched slut of a cunt accommodates him. No, itwelcomeshim. My ass up in the air, I move my hips to meet each of his unrelenting thrust. There's no artifice, no grace to this coupling. It's quick, it's dirty, fast driving us both toward an inescapable release.
The first day in a hundred years sentence. I feel a smile creep over me. There are far worse punishments.
Doryn reaches for my tits, bouncing all over the place, and squeezes them as his cock gets harder inside me. I can tell he's about to come, but that just won't do. I'm not quite there yet. Just a little more. Just a little faster…
He batters me relentlessly, so fast I can barely see him move, and I lose it, all tension letting go as I scream.
He chuckles between pants. "You're a quick study,not a succubus,"he tells me. "You commanded me just then, didn't you?"
A denial is on my lips, but I don't voice it. "Commanded?"
"You made me hold it. You made me keep fucking. I was gone, and you willed it otherwise."
He's right, but I have no cluehowI did it.
"You're getting sharper claws, kitten." He gets to his feet, not overly concerned. "I had some clothing brought up while you slept. Choose something for travel. Mir's packing outfits for my benefit. If you want to occasionally preserve your southern sensibilities, now’s your chance." He winks and leaves the room, cheerful.
Mir soon walks in my bedroom. I don't think she was very far. "Your bath is ready, my lady."
