Page 32 of Maid for the Alien Prince

She gasped again as she leaned her head back on the bedspread.

I pinched her nipples, almost painfully, and sucked them between my lips. I gently caressed the knobs of her nipples and they grew harder still. Camila reached down and grasped her other breast, pinching it in unison.

Then I kissed down her belly, raised her skirt, and pulled down her panties with a single finger, sliding them down her leg. I kissed its trail inch by inch until the underwear hung from one of her feet. I liked the look of it there, hanging limp.

When I looked up, I saw the most glorious sight I could imagine:

Her sex glistened softly with expectation, her eyes big and wide, her breasts still wet with my saliva. My cock had hardened to the point where it might have been carved from stone.

I growled at the back of my throat and fell upon my knees, like a worshiper at the altar of seduction. I immediately fell upon her sex, lapping at it with relish.

She groaned, her hips already bucking against my face, willing, hungry. As I raised the hood of her sex and lapped at the small round circle I found there, she let out a high-pitched wheeze.

It appeared I had found one of her spots.

I buried my mouth on her, supping on her juices, taking my time, going slowly, gradually working the speed up faster and faster.

Her hips bucked with my movements and her hands slid through my hair, rising to brace my horns and run a finger around the hard edges.

Although there were no nerve endings in my horns, I could nonetheless feel the soft press of her fingertips against my forehead. It spurred me on to even greater excitement.

As her head flopped to one side and then the other, her whimpers turning to unbridled screams, I buried my tongue into her deeper, lapped at her harder, tasting every sweet drop she gave me.

When she screamed, her legs squeezed my face. I kept my tongue buried inside her, rubbing at the soft ridges on the upper side of her sex.

As I slowed, her orgasm released, and she lay flat on the bed, her arms out to either side, panting.

Her sex beckoned: Enter me. Enter me now.

I got up onto my knees before her, spread her legs out to each side so I could penetrate her at the best possible angle, unzipped my flies, and let my cock thud onto the bed.

Camila peered up at me with deep lines on her face—of fear? concern?—I wasn’t quite sure what the emotion was but I knew it was one that I did not wish to see.

It was the look of someone being forced against their will. Her body might have reacted to my approaches but that did not mean her mind had joined along with it.

She might have smiled when I said I wanted her to enjoy it, but she might have only done so out of politeness, or worse yet, fear that if she produced any other reaction, she might have stoked my anger upon her.

Nothing could be further from the truth, but she wasn’t to know that.

The Steyatt growled within me. It roared and snapped at me, my cock mere inches from the warm folds of her entry. My every instinct begged me to finish what I had begun…

But my mind was not in sync with my body any longer. I wanted her—how desperately I wanted her!—but I could not take her. Not like this. Not based on the deal we had agreed.

She had come to protect her father, to ensure him and his future, that his freedom would not be at stake. And I had taken full advantage of it. Like the royal “elite” scumbag I was.

I felt disgusted at myself. I turned my eyes from her and pulled back.

“Is… Is something wrong?” she said, easing up onto her elbows to look at me.

“No. Nothing’s wrong. It’s just…” I looked up but couldn’t meet her eyes. “This is wrong. All wrong.”

I zipped myself up and rushed out of the room.

* * *

I marched through the corridors and uttered no words of apology when I almost ran over the servants, who hastily dived out of the way.

Twice I spun around, heading back towards the Pink Petal Suite, and each time, I continued my march away.

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