Page 39 of Forgotten Prince

The Josephine from yesterday would definitely have felt some kind of way about that. Today, I feel cosseted, cared for, surrounded by someone I trust with every fiber of my being.

This is my best friend. My Jakob.

“I’m ready, Jakob,” I insist, barely able to get out the words.

“You’re ready when I say you’re ready” comes his reply.

No one talks to me like this. On Jakob’s lips, a breath away from mine, with two fingers buried deep in my flexing cunt, it’s an entirely different story.

“Oh, Jakob…”

The next thing I know, Jakob’s fingers exit my pussy and I feel the loss. I begin to shiver deep inside.

That is, until his hand is replaced by his rough beard.

Gasping, my eyes fly open to find Jakob’s face between my thighs.

Oh gods…no one has ever done this to me before. I don’t know what to do here…what does one do while receiving oral? Will he expect me to give him oral in return?

On one hand, I want to cover my face with the blanket because this is so much. So much sensation. His beard, his whole face, is just…there! And the sounds! And his tongue…in one moment, I’m bucking off the ground with the shock and overwhelm, and in the next second, I am warm honey. Boneless.

I must give off the impression that I’m alternating between tension and surrender because at one point Jakob lifts his head. “Do you want me to stop, love?”

The affectionate term squeezes my heart.

I lift my head and look down at his face, his expression a mix of concern and primal hunger. It shakes me to my core to see him this way.

“No,” I rasp. “I don’t want you to stop, Jakob.”

The drag of his hand down the outside of my leg makes me feel strangely calm. “If it helps, you should know that you taste so damn good, Jo. Like nothing in this world.”

Oddly, that does put me at ease. It’s no longer shocking after watching Jakob lick his fingers clean the other night. But I’m beginning to believe he finds me that desirable. Hearing this repeated helps me a lot.

“I’m so pleased,” I say, kicking myself for being so wooden. What is wrong with me?

A low growl emanates from his chest. “You’re a fine one. The finest.”

Nothing. Absolutely nothing is wrong with me in Jakob’s eyes.

His mouth returns to what he was doing before, laying waste to my nethers. It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before.

I surrender to the intensity of the moment, letting the waves of rough pleasure carry me as I stare up at the cloudless night sky, the late September moon high and bright. I feel like some sort of ancient witch having a sex ritual under the stars. I’ve read about our ancestors doing all sorts of things to honor the gods. I let my mind go where it pleases while Jakob’s tongue turns my insides into fizz.

In my head, I hear drums that aren’t there. I imagine a harvest ritual. Drums start slowly as everyone watches this ritual play out. I’m the virgin tribute, and Jakob is my king. I’ve been chosen for this one special purpose. It’s strange and primal and utterly barbaric, but here I am, getting completely turned on by the idea of having my autonomy taken away.

Turns out, letting my mind drift and my body surrender makes everything better. A release like a spring thunderstorm takes over, and I cry out. My hands act on their own, reaching for Jakob, taking his hair between my fingers.

“Jakob! Oh gods!”

He compounds my orgasm by continuing to lick and suckle my clit. The powerful response sends shockwaves through me like lightning.

“There you are. You come so good for me, Josephine. You come like a goddamn sex goddess.”

He leans over me, propped up by one arm on the blanket, and my eyes feast on the sight of his free hand fisting his cock.

“I’m ready, Jakob. I want you inside me. Please.”

He wets the tip at my core. I shiver.

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