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1060 Words
Celeste stood almost dumbfounded by Syzar’s command, but she couldn’t refuse.
Even though there was brutal pain with each step she took—her legs barely healed from Nyssa’s assault—Syzar’s command was not one she could refute.
She steadied her legs, hiding the wounds with the train of her black dress as she began to walk, biting back each painful step toward the table.
Her palms touched the smooth surface before her face lay flat on it, her backside in the air and presented toward the ruthless male who had watched her every move.
“Alpha…I don’t want to take off my dress—” she started, but was cut short by his presence buzzing right behind her. She felt the heavy grip of his hand on her hips, one that was sure to leave a bruise.
She let out a soft gasp as warm air brushed her chest and backside; the alpha had gotten rid of the dress, which now pooled around her feet—thankfully hiding her bandaged wounds.
Relief spread as she recalled Nyssa’s threats to hurt Anora and the other innocent servants if she dared tell Syzar it was her doing. Innocents would pay the price.
A painful grasp of her hair brought her back to reality just as she felt his large member penetrate her entrance, and before she could say another word, he slammed into her.
“Oh—ngh, Alpha,” she gasped from the pain.
Syzar was ruthless in his thrusts; the table shook from each slam of his hips while Celeste’s cries echoed through his study. Her nails scraped against the wooden surface, but to no avail.
Her face was pressed flat against the table while the king took his pleasure from her body; her pain quickly grew into an unfathomable pleasure, as though her body had become one with his.
Her walls had been shaped for his c**k only; the pleasure was immense as she began chanting his name.
“Syzar—oh Syzar… please,” she begged, just as a hand clamped around her throat.
“Do not call me that. I told you not to call my name, slave,” he snarled, biting her earlobe and then her neck. Her skin burned from his canine piercing her flesh.
His lips were red with her blood—a nonsensical act that made the blood rush to her head. He was insane, and this was insane.
She felt him thrust painfully past her cervix as her walls clenched, just as his c**k twitched and her orgasm burst through. Her skin felt inflamed.
“Oh—my king… ugh… please stop,” she pleaded for mercy from his wicked thrusts, but only a grunt echoed in reply.
Before she could take a minute to recollect her thoughts—her brain felt like mush—the world turned blurry. Then, in a quick motion, her waist faced the ceiling, and now her back was against the table.
Her legs wrapped around his hips as he pushed back into her once more; this time his arms held her captive, but she was thankful for something to hold onto as she pressed down on his forearms.
“Look at me,” his voice commanded. Celeste opened her eyes even as tears fell; her vision blurred for the first few seconds before locking with amber eyes that stared with a heated gaze.
His thrusts were merciless as her nails raked through his shirt and claws over his back; his muscles tensed as he drew her hand back, slamming it over her head, his hand quickly wrapping around her nape.
“Just what did I tell you about my rule, slave?” he growled, his hand tightening until the air fled her lungs and his thrusts drove deeper.
“No touching your torso and back…” she struggled out as he thrust deeply and widely into her. Celeste couldn’t do anything else, couldn’t think of anything else other than the hazy headspace she was falling into as her next orgasm surged.
Her cries echoed just as her legs wrapped tightly around his hips, her body weak and writhing, her chest heaving—and then she felt a painful intrusion through her ass. Tightness. Her eyes widened to feel his fingers there.
“What are you doing—”
“You dare question what I do with my toy, slave?” he called, thrusting a finger into the tight hold, earning a gasp from Celeste as her body burned. “Tell me who this body belongs to.”
“My body belongs to you, Alpha,” she whimpered, and in that moment he pushed his c**k into her p***y once more just as another finger pushed into her ass.
“I’ll make sure this hole gets ready for me soon, but in the meantime, I will savor this p***y for all it’s worth,” he hummed, Celeste’s body responding just from his words.
She couldn’t turn away as she beheld the satisfaction in his gaze; his eyes studied each emotion on her face—the pain, the pleasure, and the sheer devastation from each thrust and touch.
His other hand traced to her n****e, pinching the delicate pink flesh, and her orgasm erupted as her back arched with a cry—just as Syzar’s voice echoed:
“c*m for me,” he commanded.
A white, blinding orgasm burst through as her walls clenched against his c**k; hot spurts of c*m stained her insides as he watched her writhing beneath him. Then darkness took over her vision and she passed out.
“This p***y is mine… and I will make sure you don’t forget that,” he whispered, continuing his languid thrusts into her even as she lay unconscious.
Just as he pulled her legs over his shoulder, he paused when he felt the bandages wrapped around her heel. His brows furrow to see the wounds layered on her skin.
A strange dark feeling burned in his chest, and he recalled his friend’s words to let her rest for today.
How he had denied those words—his thirst for revenge was the only thing keeping him going. He felt nothing else for her but revenge, yet he found himself caressing her face.
“f**k… what do I do to finally rid myself of you?”
- Writer
