[ AYSEL ]
So… it wasn’t a dream.
Oh, s**t.
I’d woken up in a rush of awareness, to the feeling of heat and sweat clinging to my skin all at once. And the first thing I saw nearly kicked every air out of my lungs.
The King.
His head is still right there, perfectly nestled between my legs. His tongue… oh gods… it’s right where it shouldn’t be.
His eyes are dark, wicked, alive with that dangerous mischief that tells me he already knows exactly what he’s doing to me. And that he plans to do worse.
Wetness slides down my center shamelessly, as his fingers take over where his mouth just was. When he speaks, I burn harder.
“You know,” he murmurs, never breaking eye contact, fingers flicking and pinching my c**t softly, “if you like it this way… perhaps we should make a habit of it. Slip
