Page 13 of The Bone King and the Starling

He starts to massage my core, where I am most sensitive, and I do not know whether to enjoy the sensation or retreat from it. It feels deeply vulnerable and intimate. But his hand is on my breast again, flicking my nipple and he is biting and kissing and suckling the side of my neck. My hands are gripping the edges of the bathtub, holding on for dear life as my excitement starts to build and I start to gyrate against the cock beneath my ass.

He bites my ear and I surprise myself when I turn my face to the side, my lips seeking. He is so responsive and immediately ensnares my kiss with an even more demanding kiss of his own. Meanwhile, his hand picks up speed between my legs, flicking that patch of exceedingly soft skin between my curls until I cannot bear it.

“King,” I shout, afraid. My whole body is feverish. I start to thrash. “What is…”

“Shh… Do not fight this. Surrender to me.”

I do not know what he means until it happens to me for the very first time. I become wild. I try to keep quiet, but it’s difficult as my breathing picks up and my stomach muscles spasm. My legs squeeze the outsides of King Calai’s, losing a battle I didn’t know I was fighting. I’m trembling, gasping, my hips are jerking and I’m suddenly submerged in pleasure. My whole body bucks, curling up, no longer terrified but purely elated as an intense wave of pleasure adorns me and takes me away.

“That’s it, Starling, come for me.” He calls me by my name and yet, I’m so enrapt, so lost to the feeling of his hands on my body that I don’t even notice until hours, perhaps days later.

I scream and my body spasms one final time. I jerk as the wave I’ve been riding finally crests, making it possible for me to access reality in a way I couldn’t the moment previous. All at once, the pressure of his fingers in my curls is too much.The oversensitivity of my skin is painful. I pull away, but there’s nowhere for me to go and I whimper.

“You did beautifully,” King Calai says, his hand traveling lower, away from my sensitive skin that sings. He reaches my mound, spreads my lips and presses a finger inside of me, then two… The pressure is bearable in a way it wasn’t before, his fingers sliding in and out of me easily, pleasantly…more than pleasantly. I start to feel the fever pitch coursing through my entire body build anew.

“K-King Calai,” I moan.

“If you keep making those sounds, I will lose myself to this,” he grunts in my ear as his fingers slip out of my body.

I mewl, surprised by my own disappointment at the loss and, before I can censor the lewd, unladylike words that slip from my mouth, I whisper, “I don’t understand it, my king…but I don’t want you to stop.”

“Fuck.” His big hands shove me forward until my legs are straight beneath me and my body is bent over them. I reach out and catch myself on the edge of the tub’s heavy basin. The wood is warm beneath my fingers, the steam creating droplets on the wood that disperse beneath my hands. The candles billow in the wind my body makes as I am maneuvered wherever the king intends. I feel my shaky lower half held up by arms stronger than the steel that had been strapped onto his belt.

And then I feel the pressure of something much larger than his fingers at the entrance of my core once more. My mound pulses, feeling hot and slightly swollen even though he’s barely touched me yet at all. I’m panting and he’s grunting as he lines his erection up with my core a second time and, without warning, thrusts forward.

I gasp as he successfully breaches the barrier of my body that had been too tight, too dry for him to enter before. It helps that I’m soaking wet in a way I know has nothing to do with thebathwater. My body’s natural lubricant eases his entry but still, the enormous erection that he shoves into me meets resistance. I don’t feel pain, but the pressure borders on it. I feel unholy sensations zinging through my core, through my soul, and I don’t know how to interpret any of them. Tears prick the backs of my eyes and my arms threaten to give out on me. I shake, but he holds me steady.

“Look at me,” he says as he presses his penis inside of me another inch.

I look back, straining to see him over my shoulder. It’s frightening, meeting his gaze. He is grimacing, clenching himself together very tightly. His chest, dusted in red curls, bulges and flexes with each of his movements, no matter how slight. His palm slaps my outer hip before he takes it in a rough grip.

“You’re tighter than I believed possible… Tighter than anything I’ve ever heard stories about.” He moans loud and beastly.

And I am just as loud as I respond to him in whimpers and gasps, breathy moans and deeper, more animalistic sounds. He pushes into me even more, more, the pressure so huge, the feel of his cock so damning, claiming. His erection is long, bigger than I knew a man’s could be, and I worry that he hasn’t entered me fully yet. He groans. I groan. His hand is on my shoulder, the other on my hip, keeping me from collapsing.

“Do you feel pain?”

I nod. The pressure has tightened as he’s reached an impassable point in my body. His hand massages down my back and he slows. “I’m going to seat myself fully. You’ll feel a momentary pain, but it will quickly fade.”

I bite my bottom lip and nod jerkily, pretending I’m not frightened. He leans forward and pulls my lip free of my teeth. He drops over me, blanketing my back with his scar-riddledchest. He braces his hand outside of mine to hold himself up on the tub while his other hand cradles my cheek gently.

His lips feather over my cheek, finding my nose and kissing its tip before dropping down and capturing my mouth. He sucks my bottom lip between his teeth in a way I find disorienting, and it is a calculated action, I realize in the next moment when his hips jack forward and a sharp burning sensation fills me up.

I gasp and release a wild, pained mewl, but he doesn’t retreat. He thrusts shallowly, his erection moving in and out of me slowly, until finally, after some time, the burning starts to fade even as the pressure remains. His hand on my face brushes away my tears before snaking around my hip. I feel him suddenly combing through the thatch of short curls guarding my sex until he finds that point just above my opening that feels so raw still from when he touched it earlier.

“You’re so brave, little bird. Taking my cock so well. Being such a good girl.” He grunts in my ear as his fingers pick up speed and my legs start shaking in earnest. “Have you ever experienced pleasure before, my prize?”

I shake my head and squeeze my eyes closed.

“Look at me.”

I open them and meet his gaze. He’s far, far too close. I can see the darkness of his eyes, feel the heat of his breath. He smells like wine and sin. I imagine that this is what fucking the god Lohr himself might feel like.

“Have you ever touched…yourself to orgasm?” he grunts on each thrust.

I shake my head. I don’t even really know what he means.

His brows come together over his once broken nose. “I am your first in all things?”

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