Page 77 of Crown of Steel

Atouch, slick and taunting, distorts the cool, concrete floor on which I’m kneeling. Grabbing the iron bars tight, I blink at the crumbling walls of my bedroom. Dad’s shouting grumble echoes through the gravel as the entire place seems to collapse.

We’re disappearing. No! The words get stuck in my throat, but the only sound that leaves my mouth is a long moan. My eyes flutter, and I squeeze tighter, knuckles turning white from the effort. It doesn’t stop my room from dissipating into a void.

And I’m still here, panting like a dog when that slippery tongue repeats its pattern of lapping, slow and persistent, right through the crease of my crack. The iron cage is gone.

“Fuck,” I choke. “Feels good.” My gaze dips and time stutters as I rock into the touch and just let myself get transported back to my bedroom. Back to Monterrey Castle. Fuck, I was far, far away. But now that I’ve returned, I can’t keep my eyes away from this magnificent view. Arthur’s lying between my thighs, his veiny hands keeping my ass cheeks apart. His black hair’s a disheveled mess of strands that fall over his forehead, between which he peers up through dark, thick lashes. His tongue peaksout and caresses my ass again, hands squeezing my cheeks as he spreads them further apart. “Oh, god.” I blink again, awareness slowly returning. I jerk my hips.

He chuckles lowly, then dips his tongue further and inside my body. My knees shake as my hips jerk. “No escaping now. Look how you tremble for me. You like that, don’t you,chaton?”

“Yeah,” I admit in a whisper, still feeling vulnerable after my bad dream.

“I’m going to fuck those nightmares out of you.” He flicks his tongue around the tight ring of muscle, and when I relax at the touch, he lets out a satisfied rumble. It’s fucking sexy. And then he dips a wet finger inside me and I moan, craving the sting, that delectable cocktail of pain and pleasure, of being claimed and giving in.

“Yeah…” He rasps. “Take my finger like the good little slut you are. See how your ass is sucking it in, wanting more.” He swirls it around a few times as it reaches deeper inside my channel. And then he hits my g-spot and I squirm in ecstasy. Another finger dives in, pistoning my tightness. Fisting my mouth, I mewl and buck, writhing on my sheets as Arthur has his way with me. When he finally rolls the condom around his rigid shaft and coats it with more lube, I shiver in anticipation. “Remove your hand, little stepbrother. I want to hear you scream.”

He goes slow at first, easing me into the intrusion. But once he’s filled me completely, he gives me a wicked grin that promises trouble. “Go on, claw at me. Hiss and arch your back and growl at me. Fight me.” He grabs my leg and lets my calf rest on the crease of his elbow. Then he does the same with my other leg, before leaning his hands down beside the pillow, bending me in half, and my knees touch my chest. “Allez.”

“You cocky bastard,” I snarl, and his darkened, pupil-dilated eyes twinkle with glee.

“Yeah. Give me more.”

I try to give his head a kick with my knee, but I can't put any force without being able to use my foot. My foot, that’s uselessly dangling over his shoulder.

Arthur lets out an amused laugh, then pulls his cock entirely out of me. “Fuck, I like you like that, Régis.” He gives me the shortest of moments and a filthy once-over, then he pummels back in. Hard. My hands grab hold of his sides as they hang on for dear life. He bows his head and his lips find mine effortlessly, brushing together in between puffs of air and moans of pleasure. With every thrust he hits my prostate, making my cock swell achingly, desperate for release he won’t give me yet.

“Always fighting,” he mumbles inside my mouth. “You’ve always been fighting me.”

“That’s because you’re always challenging me,” I breathe. “Always making me feel inf—oh, fuck—inferior.”

“Yeah?” He pulls back his mouth just enough for him to look at me. Onyx eyes with the tiniest slither of gold. Fucking mesmerizing. “That’s because I feel the need with you.”

“Why?”

He crashes his mouth back onto mine, his lips wet and full as they rub against mine. It brings a jolt to my cock and I squeeze his sides a little tighter. “Because you are a threat, Régis.” His eyes are back on mine, teeth coming out as they dug at my bottom lip. He rolls his hips firmly against mine, his huge cock filling the entirety of my ass, plunging that prostate mercilessly. “But look at that, your claws aren’t sharp enough for me. You can’t lock me out anymore.”

I free my mouth from his teeth, then tilt my face to gain access to his neck, its flesh so smooth for my tongue. “And how’s that?” I can’t help but ask, then lap at the tender skin. Arthur shivers, then swears.

“Just like that,chaton. Just like that. But you won’t have me.”

What? I blink my eyes, but he doesn’t say anything after that. He just fucks me, brutally, with unfaltering rhythm that makesme crumble as I pant for release, begging him with soft whimpers that sound pathetic to my own ears. I can’t help it. I need it, need him, so fucking badly.

When he finally wraps his hand around my leaking cock, I can cry with relief.

“S’il te plait,” I weep. “Make me come, I need to come.”

Arthur presses kisses on my forehead, nose and both my cheeks. He takes my lip hostage between his teeth and nibbles at the sensitive skin.

“Come for me,chaton. Come.”

I explode on a muffled cry, cock pulsing savagely while my hips jerk. It feels fucking amazing, violently so, as the orgasm rages through me. Arthur lifts his hands and presses them under my nape, splitting me even further in two as he pulls me in impossibly close. Fucking me so hard, his rhythm fast and hard, his abs rippling as he rocks his hips.

“You are a drug, baby,” he snarls, his hot forehead touching mine as he keeps on going. “A fucking drug.” And then he comes on a howl, his entire body shivering as he fills the condom with his cum.

We stay like this, panting heavily with our foreheads pressed together, our breaths intermingling as we chase more touch. More connection, our burning flesh touching in relief. When he finally releases my legs, he takes his time to massage the joints, bringing the blood circulation back. And then he pulls me close and against his back, arm wrapped around my waist. He often does that, rolling me onto my side and into him. It must be his favorite position.

“Today Christmas break starts,” he finally says.

“Yeah.” I’m not looking forward to this break. I’d rather stay here and focus on my studies, in peace.

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