Page 17 of Somber Prince

The emotional pain proved far stronger than what was happening to my body. I no longer cared about the burn from the harness. My heart and my very soul were wrenched out of my chest. With that came terror. It shook me with incomprehensible horror.

There was no escape. I believed I would die, plunged into the deepest abyss of despair, when a hand landed softly on my shoulder.

“It will pass,” a deep male voice said soothingly.

I held on to his words like to a lifesaver while being tossed around in the ocean of pain. Finally, the swells of it seemed to grow smaller, receding.

Pain gave way to anger. It raged through me like a wildfire, devastating in its hatred and violence. I thrashed in the tight loops of the tendrils, roaring until my throat hurt. I clawed at the hard surface of the altar with my nails, wishing it was flesh I could tear through and destroy.

Mad. I had gone mad…

“It will pass.” His words echoed in my mind.

It would end. All of it would eventually pass. It had to. Only I feared it would take my sanity along with it.

As the pain receded, rage ebbed, too, giving place to less intense emotions. Though those were still highly unpleasant.

I felt weak, small, and insignificant. Helpless and useless to everyone, even myself. I felt scared, and timid, and filled with self-loathing. Then a swell of shame rolled in. Mortification made me shut my eyes tighter. It burned my face, urging me to hide, but I couldn’t move my arms to hide behind them.

The warm, soothing hand never left me. It squeezed my shoulder slightly, as if in support. And I followed its lead, allowing hope to take hold inside me. It filled me with optimism, banishing shame.

Warmth spread from my face down my body. My muscles relaxed. There was no more pain anywhere. Instead, a tingling sensation scattered along my skin. It brought anticipation that prickled inside my chest like gas bubbles popping in sparkling wine.

The anticipation fanned into excitement. Tiny sparks of desire peppered my skin like phantom kisses. Relaxation rolled over me in a wave of shivers.

The supportive hand on my shoulder stroked my skin. The sensation of the touch spread through the rest of my body with light pleasure, as if a feather boa was running over me, from my head to my toes.

I inhaled deeply. The desire built up steadily. There was no teasing, no desperation, no fear. Confidence glowed warmly in my chest. I felt like I could do anything. I could move mountains, swim across the entire ocean, and cross a desert. Nothing was impossible. I felt strong inside and out. Comfortable in my own skin, in every way.

I released a breath with a soft moan. The loops of tendrils loosened around me, allowing me to stretch. Pleasure tingled through my muscles. Desire grew stronger, coursing through my veins unimpeded. It flooded my core.

The feeling grew from within me. It needed no stimulation from outside. But the hand on my shoulder added to the excitement. I arched my back, moaning as lust grew and ebbed on the way to its peak.

Freeing my arm from the loops of my restraints, I grabbed the hand on my shoulder and shoved it down to my breast. His touch had guided me through the worst, and I wished to feel him as intense pleasure rocked through me.

The orgasm went on forever. Ecstasy exploded through every cell of my body. I moaned, bending my legs. My toes curled, digging into the metal surface under me. My thighs trembled.

As the physical pleasure ebbed, the purest joy filled me. I fell back to the altar, luxuriating in the utter bliss that flooded my veins like warm, sweet honey.

I found myself stroking the hand on my breast, the two of us—the faceless stranger and I—floating in the warm, puffy cloud of complete euphoria. It lasted long enough for me to appreciate every aspect of both physical and emotional fulfillment, a state I didn’t recall ever reaching before.

It made me feel invincible, and I didn’t want it to end. Sadly, reality slowly creeped back into my awareness.

“It’s over,” the same deep voice said. The voice that had been my beacon through this intense, insane journey. The voice that I only just recognized now.

I snapped my eyes open.

The light golden eyes of Prince Rha gazed down at me. He blinked when met with my stare.

“You!” I seethed.

Anger returned, wiping my feelings clean of bliss. This man was responsible for everything, including what they had just put me through. He’d ordered it. And now, he’d come to watch my torment, probably enjoying the show and my tears.

The Joy Guardians’ tendrils fell away from me, and I jumped from the altar. My head swam with dizziness, and my muscles felt like cooked noodles, nearly sending me crashing to the floor.

“Careful.” The prince grabbed me under my arm, but it proved not enough to keep me upright. He had to hold me around my waist to stop me from falling. “The fitting can be strenuous on one’s mind and body.”

“No kidding,” I scoffed. “Yet you had no qualms about forcing me to go through with it.”

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