Page 75 of The Madman and his broken Princess
He turned me back around so I faced him and licked a hot trail along my pussy. I trembled as my clit throbbed with need. “That’s not water I taste,” he rasped before he took another lick.
I sank my teeth into my lower lip and leaned back against the shower, parting my legs for better access. Nestore surprised me by pushing to his feet and cupping my cheeks. His lips crashed down on mine for a deep kiss that left me breathless. His palm cupped my pussy, and he dipped one finger into me, making me moan. “Wet for me.”
I nodded. How could I deny that my body craved his sinful touch?
His eyes seemed to darken. “I want to submit to you, to show you who holds the power, but on days like yesterday, I realize you’re the powerful one. And it makes me so very angry.”
I frowned, not sure where he was going with this. All I knew was that I needed his touch.
“Kneel on the bed. I want to prove to myself that you’re worth it.”
“Are you in doubt?”
He smiled darkly. “Kneel.”
“I should dry myself.”
“You’ll wet the bed with your release. Don’t bother.”
I blinked, my core tightening at the prospect of pleasure. I backed away as Nestore stalked me like a predator. With a thick swallow, I turned around and climbed onto the bed on all fours.
“Get down on your elbows and part your legs.”
I did as he ordered, even as my pulse picked up at the exposed position. Steps came closer, and I caught sight of his pant legs.
Nestore’s lips brushed my ass, then he parted my cheeks and pushed his tongue into my back opening. I exhaled as his tongue pushed in deeper while his fingers massaged my cheeks, nails scratching over the skin. He slid his tongue out, and I mourned a touch I never knew I’d like. His tongue swirled over my asshole, circling the tight muscle over and over. Only Nestore’s raspy breathing and my soft pants filled the darkness around us. I sank my fingers into the mattress, marveling how I could feel every stroke of his tongue on my ass in my pounding clit.
Wetness trickled out of me and soaked the linens under me. Nestore began to suck on my back entrance, making me mewl, and my eyes rolled back. A finger parted my pussy lips, testing how wet I was. I prayed for his touch on my aching clit, but he pulled back, resuming his ministrations to my butt.
“Nestore,” I pleaded.
“Be silent, Amelia. This is your punishment. I don’t want to hear another word from you, or I’ll leave you chained to the bed so you can’t find relief by your own hands. You will follow my command.”
Punishment for what? Not that I cared if this was Nestore’s understanding of punishing me. His tongue returned to its teasing of my tight hole. I dug my fingers into the bedsheets. “Soon,” Nestore rasped, “I’ll claim another first.” Before I could ask him what he meant, he pushed his tongue into my back entrance.
“Oh,” I breathed out, my fingers sinking deeper into the sheets until my knuckles ached from the pressure. Nestore began to fuck me with his tongue while his fingers opened me wide for better access.
This felt so depraved and almost wrong, but no part of me wanted him to stop.
“I need—” I gasped, my eyes flying open when Nestore moved his tongue inside me.
“I decide what you need and when you’ll get it.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. My clit screamed for touch. I shifted my weight and reached down between my legs, but one of Nestore’s hands snatched my wrist.
“No,” he growled. With a whimper, I returned my hand to the bed. Nestore resumed his teasing of my back entrance, and I tried to be patient, hoping I’d be rewarded if I behaved. “Turn around and lie down on your back.”
I rolled over, hoping this meant he’d finally fuck me. I was soaked and wanted nothing more than to feel Nestore’s cock in my pussy. But he didn’t get out of his pants despite the huge bulge tenting them.
Instead, he gripped my ankles and pushed my legs all the way back until my feet rested beside my ears. “I love how flexible you are,” he murmured, his eyes darkening with hunger as he regarded my exposed state.
Years of private ballet lessons to improve my posture were the reason for my flexibility despite not having trained in years. Nestore locked gazes with me, gripped my ass, and bent low. He extended his tongue and slowly pushed it into my back entrance.
“Nestore,” I moaned. The sight of Nestore’s tongue entering me almost tipped me over the edge. He kept his eyes on me as he slid back and forth, and then finally, he slid his pointer and middle finger over my pussy lips and pushed them into my opening very slowly.
I arched off the bed at the friction in both my channels. He found a rhythm with his fingers and tongue that had me mewling and panting. I rocked my hips, needing more yet aware that begging wouldn’t get me what I needed.
Without warning, he pulled away and straightened. I remained as I was, completely overwhelmed and desperate for release.
