Page 65 of The Kingdom of Flames

Celestine opened her mouth slowly, his eyes upon her. After seeing Lapis and her ways, she felt a new path open before.

Even here, kneeling and under his command, I can steer.

She kissed the tip of the whip, then opened her mouth and slid her lips and tongue across its ridge shaft while Tristien held it. Her eyes never left Tristien’s. Celestine groaned, imagining it was his flesh. Her hand reached out to his left leg, feeling the thickness of his cock growing under his pale trousers. Such smooth cloth outlining the perfect tool.

“My sweet, sweet Lord of Summer,” Celestine groaned and feasted upon the whip, running her lips and tongue all across its exquisite peaks. Her right hand gripped his cock through his pants, churning him.

“Open your mouth,” Tristien ordered in a lustful whisper. Celestine obeyed. The reins were in his hand, and she loved him for it. There was no need to think, to plan or plot. His lust and need and precise control guided the two of them. Even this was a denial.

Celestine opened her mouth, and Tristien slid the whip’s handle, the very one he had beaten a man nearly to death with, into her lips. He fucked her mouth with it. She moaned his name, jaw opening as wide as she could manage.

Her cunt begged for any touch, even her own. All she had to do was reach down.

Not without his permission. He shapes me to his whims, and I follow him greedily.

Celestine sucked on the whip, popping it out of her mouth, seeking to prove her devotion to how she would serve his cock. She tugged on his manhood, pleading with impatience.

“I could smell your excitement when I beat him,” Tristien whispered. He drove the whip’s handle deeper into her mouth, into her throat, where she gagged. Even here, he was an expert, blocking off her breath with his whip. When she could not take anymore, he withdrew, the carriage filling with her moans.

“Put some slop on it.” Tristien’s eyes were fiery, and he fucked her throat deeper with the handle. Celestine nodded, gagging, gurgling, her quim dangerously wet.

The bone handle of the whip was drenched in her saliva, thick from her throat. Celestine gasped for air.

Tristien leaned forward and held her chin. He kissed her lips, and when he did, her entire body trembled. Just the barest touch of him on her chin, the grip of it, was complete control. To be with him was to drown under the weight of velvet, never wanting to come up for air. Her will was a coin that flitted across his knuckles, ever on the edge, ever moving, so easy to fall.

He stared into her eyes, breaking the kiss, holding her chin. “Free me.”

Celestine dove forward, eager now, pulling at his belt and hoisting his pants down. It was too much. What had shaped such a man? He was smooth, muscled, hairless. Tristien was supple and long, his tanned flesh contrasting with the paleness of where his trousers began to slide down.

She pulled his pants lower and lower, the dimples on his hips, the sweet line of his abs. She saw his smooth mound and ran her hand over it. Lower, lower she pulled, seeing the cleavage of his cock, so heavy and turned like a downed beast. Her eyes widened as inch after inch revealed itself until finally, his pale cock, heavy and thicker than her forearm, hung between his thighs.

“Tristien…” Celestine murmured, entranced by this member. She leaned down, lifting his fat cock, limp and semi-hard, and eased the skin back, revealing a beautiful pale pink head as wide as her mouth. His musk was bright and sweet, and she snaked her tongue out to his tip, tasting him for a moment before he stopped her by pulling on her collar.

“You did not ask,” Tristien said.

“Please, my lord. Please, just… let me taste it.” Celestine’s lust was a fervor. The day’s labors. “Aren’t you proud of me? I worked the harvest.”

Tristien leaned back, shaking his head in disapproval. He reached out and placed a loving hand around her neck, his embrace hot and warm. “You’ve been showing off all day, shirking your duties. Flashing that which belongs to me to others.”

“I’m sorry…” Celestine groaned under his grip. She was loving his control, his patient demeanor. As he had explained their first evening, consent was everything, but if she ever felt it was too much, she simple had to make the sign agreed between them.

“Sorry… what?”

“Sorry… Lord Solis.”

A playful slap came across her cheek. “No.”

“Sorry, Tristien.”

Another slap, this one stinging her cheek perfectly. How was he so good at this?

He moves the sun and sky. He is a Lord of Summer, that’s how. Nothing grows without his consent or control.

“Sorry… sir.”

“Better,” Tristien kissed her forehead and leaned back. “Take the ribbon behind you, tie it around the base of me.”

Celestine turned, grabbing the silken ribbon. She reached up to grab his heavy member but stopped.

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