Page 31 of The Traitor's Curse
Benedict’s grin faded away for a split second, returning inits crooked, cocky glory so quickly I might have imagined it. “I certainly never had one to give to any of them, that’s true, but I didn’t hear any complaints all the same.”
“Probably because you left too quickly to listen to them,” I said, and Benedict rolled his eyes and pushed up and off of me. Didn’t he realize he was proving my point? “Or because—Benedict, what the hell are you doing?”
I tried to get onto my elbows, but he’d already dropped to his knees in front of me, caught my wrists, and tugged me right back down again, my cock bobbing in the air.
My view of my own nakedness, my erection, and his wicked smile had me biting my lip to keep in a moan. His fingers flexed around my forearms. I didn’t even bother struggling. The slight tenderness, not quite bruising, that lingered on my wrists from earlier in the day was more than enough to remind me that it’d be entirely futile. Oh, that shouldn’t make me even harder, with the needy ache spreading down into my balls and my hole.
“I’m paying my debt,” he said. “And I’ll pay interest, too. First your cock, Lucian. I’ll suck that until you come in my mouth.” His matter-of-fact tone made it all so much worse, my fight to keep from making a sound, from squirming in his grip, from spreading my legs as wide as they could go and starting to beg. “That’s just repayment. You’ll have to find out what comes next. So to speak.”
My head spun, and it had nothing to do with wine or the hour. It was simply Benedict. I had to close my eyes and tip my head back into the blankets. His breath and then his lips brushed over the inside of my right thigh just above the knee. My startled yelp made him laugh, tickling me with it, and then I was squirming after all, opening my knees and scrabbling to lift my feet and brace them on the bedframe, pushing down toward his mouth, desperate and frantic.
When his lips closed suddenly over the head of my cockI cried out loudly enough that the guards down the hall might have heard me. If they came running and saw this, I’d have to abdicate, grow a large mustache, and move to a convent myself to escape the gossip and laughter.
“Benedict,” I gasped. “Oh, gods. Bene—please, a moment—” His tongue wrapped around my cockhead in a twisty, impossible way that put my earlier efforts to shame, and fuck, if he did that again I’d spend in three seconds. “They’ll hear me, I can’t keep quiet, you didn’t lock the—mmmph!”
He let go of one wrist to clap his hand down over my mouth. It tried to open to let out a moan, but instead I only moved my lips a fraction of an inch against his skin, his hand so hot and heavy and strong, keeping me from sucking in a full breath through my nose.
Benedict swallowed my cock to the root, teeth grazing me, and I couldn’t breathe, and it didn’t matter how I bucked or how many muffled cries I let out, he had me helpless and flailing and—
Coming down his throat, pulse after pulse turning me upside down and inside out, choking for breath until darkness swirled in my vision, tingling pleasure suffusing me all the way to my fingertips.
Benedict peeled his hand off of my mouth and let my cock slip from his, and I lay half conscious, panting, the cool of the room shocking on my sweat-slicked skin.
When he cupped my balls and my spent cock and lifted them, I thought he meant to clean me up or dry me off at first—but he’d swallowed my spend, hadn’t he, not let it get me all wet? So what did he mean to—he set his finger behind my balls, so gently it made me shiver, and cool, silvery magic ribboned into me, leaving me…clean, it felt like. Very clean, as if I’d just stepped out of the bath and dried myself with the softest possible towel.
He massaged my balls softly. I shuddered and murmured a protest. Too much, he’d already reduced me to a quivering mess, I couldn’t possibly bear whatever “interest” he’d sadistically decided he owed me…and then he bent his head down and flicked the tip of his tongue over my hole.
Benedict had left me oversensitive and a little sore from the morning. It’d been so long since I’d been fucked—and probably never like he’d fucked me.
Nerves I’d barely known I had lit up like the lanterns along the harbor during a festival, my back arching and my head thrown back.
My tender flesh throbbed under that careful touch of his tongue, every sensation magnified almost past bearing. A swipe around my puffy rim, then pressing into the center, barely penetrating me, and I clenched down around the tease of him and moaned.
“You want more than that?” Benedict murmured into my skin, so closely that he was almost kissing me as he spoke, lips caressing my most sensitive places. I clenched my hands into the bedding and let out a sound that would’ve shamed the erotic performers on a brothel stage. “My fingers or my cock? I could fuck you for a while, get you loose, pull out and use my hand. See how you feel on the inside. And then fuck you again.” He punctuated his words with lashes of his tongue, going a little deeper into me each time. “Definitely fuck you again.”
He still had my cock and balls in one big hand, and he slipped the other between my legs and pushed a finger inside me, startlingly rigid after the slick malleability of his tongue. I couldn’t get hard again, not so quickly and not after how many times I’d already spent that day, but as he hooked me open with his finger and thrust his tongue into me, lashing my inner flesh, my cock twitched and spurted everything I had left. A few drops, but enough to leave me shaking with the aftershocks as Benedictgrowled against me and fucked me with his tongue, merciless.
On and on, plunging into me, working me over with his mouth and that long finger, narrowing everything in the world down to needing him inside me, needing more of him, thrashing on the bed and alternately demanding that he fuck me and begging him to stop.
It wasn’t until my pleas and curses had dissolved into shaky little half-sobbing moans that he slowed his assault and finally stopped, pressing one kiss to my swollen rim as he withdrew.
Benedict released his grip on me at last and kissed his way up my stomach and chest, finally lying on top of me with his weight barely held off by his elbows, nuzzling against the side of my neck. My head had fallen to the side and my eyes had slid shut, and I could hardly muster the energy to twitch as he pressed gentle kisses under my ear.
That mouth…the one he’d used to ravish me so thoroughly my whole body buzzed with it. I couldn’t hold my feet up on the edge of the bed frame anymore, and they slipped off, my heels knocking into the floor with twin thumps. Surely he didn’t do this for everyone, did he? Kneeling and sucking my cock—sucking my hole, for the gods’ sakes—crouched down and pleasuring me as if he himself had been one of the highly paid companions he consorted with.
Another kiss, this time along the angle of my jaw, and I couldn’t help my smile or the flush of something uncomfortably like delight that had started to follow in the wake of my fading ecstasy.
“I thought you were going to use me for your own pleasure,” I said. “Treat me like a whore.”
Benedict stilled, lips almost touching my cheek. His sharp inhale tickled my jaw, and his long exhale heated my neck.
“Who says I’m not?” he said at last, voice tight. He kissedme, flicking his tongue against my heated skin. It chilled me far out of proportion to the cause, goosebumps rising on my legs. “The expenditure of a few coins, or the use of a bit of magic to check for poison, doesn’t give a man the right to be a thoughtless lover. Besides,” and he pressed his body closer, the wool of his trousers and the cold metal of his buttons rubbing over my inner thighs and brushing against my soft cock, “I’m going to be careful, because you must be a bit sore by now, but I’m not going to be a gentleman and finish myself off with my hand. I’m going to spend inside you. Get my money’s worth, as it were.”
He shifted his weight again and I felt the prod of his erection, thick and hard.
His money’s worth. Oh, I did still hate him, no matter what insanity his seduction and his touch had induced in my body and mind to make me feel, briefly and humiliatingly, otherwise.
“Let me know when you’re done so that I can rouse enough to bathe again before bed,” I said, as nonchalantly as I could manage, without opening my eyes or turning my head. It might or might not convince him, but I had no choice but to try. “I may fall asleep.”
