Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 120974 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 403(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120974 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 403(@300wpm)
I normally wouldn’t force a woman to do something she doesn’t want to, but this is different—as long as I wear this fucking collar and she wears the ring, Princess Irena is the only one who can clean me. And I’ll be damned if I let myself be poisoned because she’s prudish.
“I can’t…I won’t…I’ve never touched a man’s forbidden areas before!” she protests.
I narrow my eyes at her.
“Well now you will. Or I won’t go a single step further towards helping you get to the Sorceress.”
Then I wait to hear what she has to say to that.
16
IRENA
I don’t like this situation a bit—how is it that I have the ring of power yet the big brute in the tub seems to be somehow in control? Surely that’s not right—is it?
But it seems that I have no choice. His shaft rises from between his thighs, thick as a club, and somehow I am now in the position of having to wash it.
Never would I have dreamed of such a thing. Even if I were to get married, my husband would never demand such a thing of me. I would never handle his male parts—he would only put them inside me when we were ready to have a child. That’s what I have been told, anyway.
And while I can’t deny I found washing Valen’s big, muscular body interesting, that doesn’t mean I want to do perverted things with him.
Does it?
“Your problem, Princess, is you’re too much of a prude,” he drawls, giving me that lazy, mocking grin again. “This is just a part of my body—like any other. It needs to be cleaned, just like you cleaned the rest of me. So fucking do it.”
I feel anger clench like a fist inside me.
“Fine,” I snap. “I’ll do it!”
I rub the soap between my hands vigorously until I form quite a lather. Then I reach into the tub.
But just before I’m about to grip the thick pole of flesh in my fist, Valen grabs me by the wrist.
“Wait just a minute, Princess,” he growls and his eyes have narrowed suspiciously.
“What is it? I told you never to touch me!” I say, but his grip doesn’t loosen.
“I realize you’ve never touched a male before—not here anyway,” he says. “But let me tell you—this is a delicate area. You’d better be careful. If you’re not, you’ll be sorry.”
“Oh, and how exactly will you make me sorry?” I scoff.
A slow smile spreads across his face.
“The next time I have to drink from you, I’ll take my time,” he rumbles. “I’ll spread your pussy and tease that swollen little clit between your legs until you’re begging and trembling but I won’t let you come.”
His words make me feel hot and cold all over. I’ve heard the dirty words he uses—crude words whispered by the servants when they don’t think I’m listening. The maids especially have “dirty minds and dirty mouths” as my chaperone likes to say. But no one has ever spoken them aloud to me…or made such vile, disgusting threats against me.
I tell myself I should be enraged at his insolence—and truly, I am. But also, why is my body so hot and why do the sensitive tips of my breasts feel so tight and achy? I squeeze my thighs tightly together, trying to ignore the ache I feel there, too. What’s wrong with me?
“Just be gentle,” Valen says to me. “I don’t want you ripping my cock out by the roots.”
“Stop using such crude language,” I say, but my words come out sounding breathless. “I’ll wash you gently—just let me go.”
“All right.” His grip on my wrist loosens and I’m able to pull away. His equipment is still huge and hard between us, and I realize I have a job to do—best get it over with quickly.
But when I grip the thick pole of flesh—and I do mean thick, as in I can’t fit my fingers all the way around it—I can’t seem to make myself go fast. I spread the lather up and down, sliding the hot, throbbing club of flesh through my fist until Valen closes his eyes and lets out a groan.
“Am I hurting you?” I ask.
“Fuck no, little Princess. Keep going—keep stroking me,” he growls. He pumps his hips, as though to thrust his shaft deeper into my fist and groans again—a deep, guttural sound that comes from low in his chest.
I feel a funny little flutter in my stomach. I’ve never heard a man make that sound—a sound that’s somewhere between pleasure and pain and I caused it. I keep stroking him, slowly up and down. His flesh is as hot and hard as a bar of freshly smithed iron in my hand…and yet his skin is incredibly soft.
Like flower petals, I think.
Valen groans again and thrusts up into my hand. His shaft is clean now—well, mostly—and the true color is revealed. The broad, mushroom-shaped head is an angry red, shading to a deep plum near the base. It’s so huge I wonder how he can fit it into anyone. Clearly the women of his people must have a much larger area for receiving a man’s equipment than the women of my own people do.