Page 12 of The Bone King and the Starling

Carefully, I open my eyes and I’m surprised to see the expression on his face. His cheeks and mouth are both blood red. “You are a virgin,” he says, and chokes. “Much tighter than I expected.”

I nod rapidly, surprised by his confusion — I told him this before, didn’t I? And I imagine that he’s bedded his fair share of virgins before. He hisses, sliding his finger further inside of me. He attempts to add another but I push up onto my tiptoes. The pressure is too much. “Please, your highness, it stings.”

“Calai,” he corrects me. “You will call me by my name.” He kisses my temple then, in a surprise show of I don’t know what, because it cannot be affection, before dropping his mouth to mine. I jerk back, though I don’t mean to, but instead of rising to anger, he whispers, “The gods are testing me.”

He slowly slips his fingers free of me and I sag, the wine cleared from my mind. I try to stand on my own, but the kingis crowding me. He turns me to face him, pinches my chin and pushes me down. I don’t understand what he wants of me until I’m already on my knees, looking up at his face past his enormous erection.

I gasp at the sight of the appendage between his legs knowing that it cannot possibly go where I think it will. His penis is stiff and pulsing, pale skin flushed an angry color. The enormous erection he boasts looks more like a weapon than the swords he wore on his belt. I wonder how many females he’s raped in raids, how many whores and mistresses he keeps in Ithanuir. I imagine it would take an entire stable of females working all hours of day and night to keep that thing sated. And right now, all he has is me.

He presses the purpling head of his cock to my lips. It tastes salty. There’s a slight stickiness coming from the slit. My tongue passes over it as I close my lips and he makes a choking sound in the back of his throat. I look up at him as his hand keeps working his length.

His words are choppy as he grunts, “Just one kiss.”

The head is bloated and the veins are pronounced against his shaft as he passes his hand over it once, twice, and then faster. His testicles, covered in a light dusting of red hair, are clenched tight against his body. He reaches out to touch my hair and has to bend his knees significantly to be able to brush his penis over my face. I don’t expect the skin to be so soft or so hot as it touches my cheek like a caress.

I don’t know what I’m doing, having never kissed a mouth before, let alone this, but I mimic the motion he made against my own lips and lead with my tongue as I press my parted mouth to the slit along the top of his penis, kissing it like he asked.

He makes a snarling sound and I jerk back, worried I’ve hurt him, but his hand on my hair keeps me close. “Again. Please,” he says. He begs.

Feeling strangely…powerful…I lick his cock from tip to base, finding that I enjoy the way he seems to struggle. He has ahold of the post in the center of the room and looks, from this angle, just as shaky as I felt when I was leaning upon it.

I lick him all the way down to his testicles and, in a daring attempt, I pass my lips over those, peppering them with kisses. He starts to pant harder, his chest heaving. “Please. Put it in your mouth. I need to feel you surrounding me.”

I open my mouth as wide as I can and feed his head towards the back of my throat. The moment I close my mouth around his erection, laving the underside with my tongue, King Calai cries out. He rips his cock from between my lips and I start as ropes of murky white fluid gush from the bloated head all over my cheeks and forehead and lips.

The surprising liquid pours from my forehead into my eyes, causing me to blink rapidly before I close them altogether and I can only feel from then on as more of the liquid comes to cover my bare chest. I didn’t realize it, but I’d reached up to brace myself on his thighs. My nails curl into them now while his tight, almost pained-sounding groans loosen. I can hear his heavy breath and I know that he’s dropped down to crouch in some way before me when I feel a wall of heat come against my front, and then the pressure of the hand that follows after.

He drags his fingers through the fluid he’s sprayed over my sternum, bringing it down and ringing it around one nipple, then the other. I arch back, surprised by how pleasurable that feels. And then I whimper audibly — loudly — when he replaces that finger with his mouth. The hot, sucking pressure of his mouth cleaning away the fluid he just decorated my nipples with is scandalous, but he does not stop.

He cleans one of my breasts with his mouth before moving to the other, sucking as much of my breast as he can get into his large mouth. Nerves dance across my heart, never having beenhandled this way before. It’s rough, but the sensations… My chin tips back and I reach for him blindly, grabbing and clinging to his shoulders as my back arches and I thrust my breasts further into his mouth.

“Augh,” he moans as he pulls back. I reach up to try to clear away the cream in my eyes, but he catches my wrist. “I worry I am not strong enough to pass this test,” he whispers. A cloth of some kind moves over my eyelids one at a time, but he uses his finger to clear the rest from my forehead. “Open your mouth.”

I open my eyes and my lips part automatically. I watch as he moves his cream-covered finger towards my mouth and feel it glide against my lips and taste the strange musky flavor on my tongue. I suck on instinct.

He hisses and withdraws his hand completely, then sweeps in and kisses me, holding my face between his enormous hands before he just as abruptly wrenches back and picks me up. In a cradle hold, he carries me to the room behind the right curtain, and I am surprised to find that it holds a very large bathtub full of steaming water that smells of rich bath salts and oils.

The king nuzzles against my temple. “I will seed you tonight. I am sorry, but I will not be able to stop myself.” His voice is shaky and his words perplex me. I had thought that was what he brought me here for, but I don’t question him as he takes me to the gorgeous wooden bathtub in the center of the room.

Candles are lit all around the chamber and the water is hot as he sets me inside of it. I jump. The temperature is heavenly, but I am unused to it and I grip the edges of the bathtub when he releases me, as if in fear of an underwater monster rising up from the black bottom of the basin and swallowing me whole.

Though I suppose the only one likely to do that tonight is him, I think to myself as he sloshes into the tub and sits heavily against the basin across from me, taking up any and all space that was left. He’s holding onto the edges of the tub as well, buthis eyes are honed on me like I’ve captured him with wicked sorcery. Like he’s trying not to attack.

He stares at me. I do not know where to look. His red hair turns dark in the water as he dunks his head. Wiping his face, he gestures at me with two fingers. “Come.”

There is nowhere for me to go, but when I don’t move, he sits forward and grabs my left arm. He yanks me towards him, turning me around, and my back lands against his chest. Tension threads the liquid surrounding us as he slowly begins to work soap over my skin. He kneads my shoulders, my back and then picks up a soft cloth and washes my face, my arms, my stomach, my feet. He takes particular time cleaning the undersides of my fingernails with a small pick and then using a fresh cloth to clean me there, between my legs.

“Sit forward.” He then takes time washing my hair. He uses a blunter pick to comb the knots out of all of my curls. It takes some time. “Your hair is beautiful.”

My stomach clenches and I hold onto my knees, not complaining at all as he combs oil through my hair and, on the next pass of his fingers, they drag through clean. My eyes feel hot. It’s been…a long time since I’ve been able to pull my fingers through my curls like this and the delicate way he worked…I could pretend easily that he cared.

“Thank you, my king,” I whisper.

“Calai.”

I only nod. I couldn’t get the word out if I tried.

Finished, the king hauls me against him, draping one arm over my shoulder and using that hand to squeeze my opposite breast. I arch again on instinct and King Calai groans, “I do not know where you came from, but if I had never found you, I would have missed you.” The king slips his other hand between my legs. I squeeze my knees together, but his hips scoop mine and hepresses his knees between my own and spreads them to either side of the basin, leaving me fully open and exposed.

---