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“Tell me what you want.”

“Please,” I begged. It wasn’t an answer, and I knew it. He kept grinding against me, letting me feel all of him as his abs rippled and shifted. He wasn’t going to do it until I told him.

His hand left my ass, and I listened as he unzipped his pants between kisses, kicking them and his underwear aside. Springing free, his cock rubbed against my ass, and I could feel my body dripping with excitement. Shifting our positions, a little, he pushed up into me, and this angle was completely different. Pushing hard and fast, he filled me again and again, and I pushed up his shirt so that I could admire the gorgeous abs that were doing all of this work for me.

My entire body was pulsing with pleasure. My mind was blank of anything except for the sensation of Dralle’s body claiming mine. The need and the desperate and all-consuming desire for him were coming to a boiling point. And I felt myself coming hard, his erection still hard and unchanged as I tightened around it.

“You’re so fucking good,” he groaned into my ear. He wasn’t done with me yet, fucking me through my orgasm until I was so sensitive it felt like I had another brewing.

“Dralle,” I sobbed out his name. Ragged with pleasure, a mess of good sensation and raw nerve endings. His lips brushed against my neck, licking and nipping, and I could feel his teeth against the sensitive skin there.

It was fucked up, awful, but the imagery of his teeth on my neck, after a lifetime of visions of his teeth on my brother’s neck, was so heady and intense. Like danger and hazard, it drove me crazy and excited me.

Guilt was dead; I just wanted to feel good.

My body was squeezing down around him, still pulsing and throbbing from the last orgasm, but I could feel another nearing.

“Come for me again,” he demanded.

This was different, new.

Rough and fast, his hips were slamming into me harder than I’d ever experienced, but it felt sogood. The angle rubbed against my g-spot, and I was breathlessly begging for more.

He was unhinged in a way I never knew I wanted but desperately needed. His demand pushed me over the edge, sending me drifting on a hot orgasm until I could hardly breathe. Gasping for air, chest heaving against his now-damp shirt, I felt like I was going to explode.

Filling me once more, he came hard inside of me, our teeth clacked in desperate attempts to kiss between gasping breaths. I was melting, falling apart in his hands, and as he came, he slowed down and suddenly was tender with me. Pulling out, he carried me into the bathroom and sat me on the side of the tub as he filled it with water.

“What are you doing?” I laughed. “I just showered.”

“I want to rinse before our next round,” he teased. My face felt red hot, but I laughed and looked away. “You’re delicious,” he growled as he kissed me. I kissed him back and felt my body heating up again, although I’d already come twice.

What was he doing to me?

“I have some bottles under the sink people have given me. Pick a smell and pour it in the tub.” My voice wavered from exhaustion, but he did as I asked. “Wait- you’re a prince; I shouldn’t talk to you like that, should I?” It struck me suddenly that I was bossing around royalty.

“I’d do anything you wanted,” he laughed. Digging around under the sink, he pulled out a rose-shaped bath bomb I’d forgotten I had.

“What’s this?”

“Oh! Unwrap it for me, I’ll show you,” this was the first time I’d ever been excited to use a bath bomb. He took off the plastic slip over it, and I lowered it into the water. It started bubbling immediately, turning the water a shimmering blue color that reminded me of mouthwash.

“Oh, is it magic?”

I wanted to laugh at him, but I could see where he was coming from.

“No, come on.”

The bath was full, and I wanted him in it with me. He climbed in first, sitting with his knees sticking up and out of the tub. The water was the perfect warm temperature as I lowered down into his lap and laid my head back against his chest.

“What was rough about your day?” I wanted to know what was going on in the magical kingdom.

“I got into an argument with my cousin, and my dad basically called me a failure.”

“What? You’re not a failure.” I held his arms around me and frowned.

“To him I am. I was born too late. My life is moving too slowly for him.”

“You’re only 24. What does your father want from you?”

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