Page 90 of Brighter Than Gold

I knew I would be in trouble if I touched myself, so I rocked my hips slightly to ease the tension growing between my legs. Useless of course, because it would only cause the desire to deepen.

Kaspian had left me waiting while I heard him walking about the room. The once hot come that had rolled down my back was already chilled. There was something so degrading about not being allowed to clean it from myself, and yet I wore his spend with some kind of sick pride.

“Lean over the bed for me,” Kaspian said coming up behind me. “Arms beneath you.”

He ran his finger up and down my spine gently. I was ready for the strike, the heavy leather strap or the cascade of tiny thin ones, maybe even the wooden cane that bit so sharply into my skin I could only ever weather a few strikes.

And I jolted when I felt the sensation, but it wasn’t pain. Not even close. It was wet.

Oil. Kaspian was dripping oil over my backside. I was immediately nervous, and he must have sensed it.

“Be still, little one, you’re all right.”

I tried to be still, I tried to relax, but I knew what he was planning, and it scared me.

He drizzled more oil over me, and eventually set the bottle down and began massaging. He spread it over my lower back, down my thighs, and over my backside. The sensation of his warm hands gliding so smoothly over me was incredible, and I was beginning to relax at his touch.

Then he slid his hand down, down the very center of me. He settled my jerking hips with one hand as he worked the other into me.

“Not too bad so far, right?”

“No, sir.”

I’d told him I was nervous about this; I’d been taken roughly, one too many times, and I’d hated it. It was something I had begun refusing men when I worked, no matter how much money they offered me.

The King’s fingers grazed across my cunt, and I pushed back into him, telling him I wanted himthereinstead. He obliged, sinking two slick fingers in, and I groaned happily into the bedsheets. I heard a low chuckling sound through his chest as he began to pulse and press his fingers inside. And then my heart and my body started to war.

My heart thought back to Callan, and suddenly I pined for him, I missed him. I wanted him to be holding me down over this bed. But fuck, what Kas was doing with his fingers, I couldn’t deny I wanted this too.

“You like that, Princess?” Kaspian asked, and I swear I heard Callan’s voice calling me by that name, a title I’d hated until he’d used it.

“Yes, sir,” I nodded, churning my hips into him. Then I was picturing Callan behind me, his fingers working me into this frenzy. He’d have been gripping my waist much gentler than Kas, and his hands would feel rougher over my skin. He would have been panting with me, following my pleasure instead of noting it the way Kas was. Kaspian was so measured and precise, where Callan simply gave in to the moment.

A deep moan escaped my lips as my pleasure mounted. I’d nearly forgotten what the King was planning until he dragged his thumb over thatotherpart of me, thatotherentrance. My eyes shot open, gauging, but it didn’t feel bad. In fact, it was nice, oversensitive. He brushed his thumb up and down and then in circles, all the while keeping his other hand strumming a pleasant rhythm inside of me. The sensation was altogether different and new, and after a few minutes I found I was actually enjoying it.

Then there was a tiny bit of pressure. I inhaled sharply as Kas pushed his thumb inside, just the tip.

“Still all right?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” I admitted quietly.

He pulsed his thumb several times, then pushed it in further. It felt so strange, I was already so exquisitely primed that this new feeling only heightened my arousal. I moaned softly.

“If I’m not mistaken, I’d say you were enjoying this.”

“I am, sir.”

“Good.”

I could hear the smile in his voice.

Kaspian pushed past the knuckle, and it felt deep. He held his finger there as he continued with his other hand. Then slowly he pulled out. I cringed at the awkward feeling.

“That was excellent, Little Raven. I think you can take more.”

“No, please, no,” I whined pathetically.

“You know how to stop me, Reyah, and it isn’t by begging.”

---