Rosalyn

Insufferable.

Casteel Da’Neer was the most insufferable non-human that she had ever met in her life. She didn’t even ask to know him, to meet him, to marry him, to love him. But here he was, sliding his hands up her waist and ribs, squeezing gently to encourage warmth to seep into her clothes.

The horse beneath them was warm, but by the time it registered to her, the biting wind took all semblance of heat away from her, leaving her once more to suffer and shiver. Her body trembling against the man behind her.

“You’re shaking.” Casteel mummers against her ear, his breath hot against her skin.

“No shit.” Poppy snaps, turning her head to glare at him.

Insufferable. She thinks again, looking at the face that was concerned, but oh so beautiful.

A smile flashes across his mouth but fades back into concern as a harsh tremble wrack through her entire body. She was sore. Not only from the four days that she had been on the horse, trapped between Casteel’s thighs, but from the lack of warmth that she was unable to get no matter how many cloaks and layers she bundled herself into.

Stiff. Her muscles were stiff, making her shaking even more painful. Unused muscles clenching around the saddle, tremors vibrating her and Casteel.

“Poppy.” Cas mumbles, his arm tightening around her. “Why didn’t you say you were this cold.”

“It’s not like we have any more cloaks.” She responds quietly, teeth chattering against her words. A whimper rips from her throat as the wind surrounds them with its cold snap.

Casteel curses, pulling on the reins as he wraps his other arm around her torso. The horse falls back, and they land between the small group.

“We’ll stop in the next town for the night.” He announces, voice rumbling through her. “Get rooms at the inn and hot baths.”

A mummer of appreciation ran through them, a new pace set to reach the inn faster than reaching another clearing to sleep on the ground once more. A sigh went through her again, another tremble shaking her.

“We’re almost there Princess.” Cas mutters, kissing the tip of her ear as the hood fell back.

Almost there was another two hours.

She wanted to kill him, kill him for the fact that she was so cold, kill him for being sore, kill him for even making her go on this trip. A trip to another city that she wasn’t even required to go on, a trip that only actually needed Casteel and an entourage for the escort and for the looks. She had hated all three days that they were there, stuck to talk about politics and the ever growing land crisis in Atlantia.

She hated him for making her go with them, hated him when he said that it would make a better impression if he came with his wife. Because what was a Prince without his Princess.

Useless Kieran had added with a chuckle as he watched his friend try to convince her to come.

I don’t see how I really have a choice here. She had said, glaring up from the chaise that she had lounged on with her book.

Good to see you’ve finally caught on. Cas had grinned.

She wanted to cry as Cas swung himself off the horse, handing the reins to a stable hand that had rushed out the moment they pulled up to the inn. He turned to her, holding his hands up to grab her hips to help her off.

As her stiff joints bent to pull her legs off, she let out a small cry of pain. She noticed Cas’ wince without even looking up at him. When her feet were on the ground, she was unsteady, her husband’s body holding her up as she took a step to the front door.

“Oh dear.” A female voice said softly, revealing a small, overtly pregnant woman holding the door open. “Come in, come in please.”

They’re ushered in, and the heat from the fireplace on the back wall hits her like a brick. Poppy closes her eyes, cheeks heating almost immediately. She breaks away from her entourage, trailing closer to the fire and lifting her hands, not bothering to take off the gloves that Kieran had gifted to her.

She can hear Cas speaking to the innkeeper, booking multiple rooms, and asking for dinner to be brought up to all of them when it was ready. The footsteps of the men dispersed up the stairs, the sound of doors opening and then closing once more.

Arms wrapped around her, and her eyes open. Casteel nudging her hood down with his nose before resting his head on her shoulder.

“Go away.” She mumbles, looking at him through damp lashes.

“No.” he responds, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

Poppy pulls away from him, sidestepping as he moves to grab her again. “I’m warm enough without you.”

“You’re warm because of me.” He responds, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and leading her to the stairs.

“I was cold because of you.” She snaps back, pulling once again out of his arm and taking the steps up on her own.

“First door.” Cas says as she almost steps past it. His hand grabs the handle, pushing the door open to the toasty room. A fire roared between the two windows that overlooked the street, a kettle hanging in the fireplace.

One large bed pressed against the right side of the room, piles of heavy quilted blankets adorning it. To the left was a dresser with teacups stacked on the top of it, beside it, the door to the bathing room.

Her fingers fumble quickly with the clasp of the cloak that rested on her shoulders. When it was undone, she let it fall to the floor before unhooking the second one and letting it fall onto the other.

“I’ll let you bathe first.” Cas says, taking off his own cloak and hanging it onto a hook beside the door. She turns to glance at him, watching him unbuckle all the leather straps that held his weapons.

“I was planning on it anyways.” She retorts, raising her eyebrow as he undoes the laces holding the top of his shirt together, revealing the tan base of his neck.

His gaze catches hers, a smirk tilting the corners of his mouth. “I can think of a few things that can really warm you up princess.”

She holds his gaze, watching him strip her with his eyes. Her cheeks becoming rosy from the thought of his hands on her, under her clothes. But her gaze darkens and she lifts her lip off of her teeth, baring them slightly.

“I can manage on my own.” She tells him, taking the two steps to the bathing room, her brain playing over and over the argument of not wanting to go on the trip with him. She spins quickly to shut the door, Casteel already striding towards her.

She hears his boot make impact with the door the moment she closed it. The lock quickly falling in place as she hears him curse.

“Poppy.” He warns from the other side of the door.

“Casteel.” She mocks, turning around and pulling her shirt out of her breeches. She tugs it over her head and drops it to the bin beside the door for the laundress to pick up later.

“I’m not playing princess.” He calls to her, and she knows from the influx of his voice that he had been thinking of a long night to warm up before the bath, had probably been thinking of it the moment he said they were coming to the inn.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” She coos, nudging her boots off and letting her pants fall atop them. When her undergarments followed, she leans over to turn on the tap, the water running immediately hot into the bath. “I’ll consider playing after I bathe.”

His groan is loud, but she hears him pushing away from the door, followed by a creak of the bed as he sits down on it. She smiles, raising her arms up and letting a tight stretch flow through her still stiff muscles.

As the bath fills up, she holds the side, stepping in and letting the water flow around her ankles. It was scorching against her skin, and she turns on the cold tap just to even out the temperature.

She lowers her body down, skin screaming at the heat of the water against it. Her skin still red with the cold. As her ass hits the bottom, she leans back against the wall of the tub, hair falling over it and hanging from it on the outside.

Poppy closes her eyes once more, letting the water rise around her.

As it reached to her shoulders, she turned off the taps. The silence filling the room around her. Her breath mingling with the steam that swirled around her.

As the hot water seeped into her bones, her muscles relaxing finally from the ache that had taken over them, she sinks deeper, water hitting her lips.

Her thoughts wander, finally not focused on how cold she was. But rather instead, on how truly aching she was. No longer all over, but between her thighs.

As she adjusts her body, the water laps against her, causing her to have a rapid intake of breath as it hits at her again and again like a tongue begging for her pleasure. A soft sigh echoes through her as she leans back down deeper into the water, hands coming off the edges and splaying over her breasts.

Her nipples were peaked, aching from the hours and hours spent in the cold, rubbing against the rough fabric of her shirt. Now, the feel of her soft fingers trailing over them caused them to harden more.

She pinches them between her fingers, gasping slightly at the contact as she pressed harder on them. The pleasure-pain that radiated through her went right between her legs, and she couldn’t help but roll her hips against the feeling, water lapping at her once more.

“Oh.” She whispers, one hand leaving her nipple to trail down against her stomach, scars rough against her fingertips. She let her fingers dance across her skin, running over her thighs and hips, between her legs and then through her folds, never once letting herself touch her clit. But she could feel the heat, a different heat than the water, surrounding her fingers as she pushed them over her opening.

Her hips rock, and her fingers clamp tighter around her one nipple, the pain easing the need that radiated from her core.

The hand holding her breast raises, releasing her nipple and grabbing a hold of her throat, easing some pressure against the sides. Her eyes fluttering closed as the blood rushes.

She was rocking against her hand, her fingers parted so she didn’t touch her clit. But the pressure against her lips, tips of her fingers running roughly across her opening. Her mouth opens slightly, breath hot as her eyes roll.

“Poppy.” Casteel says from the bedroom, the distance in his voice letting her know that he was still on the bed. “What, in the gods names, are you doing.”

“Nothing.” She says softly, fingers easing off of her throat as she closes the fingers between her legs, pinching her clit between them. She stifles her moan, squeezing her lips shut as she pulls her hand up, fingers sliding over her clit once more.

Casteel doesn’t respond, she wasn’t hiding what she was doing, but she loved the idea of him thinking about what she was doing, guessing where her hands were.

Poppy drags her fingers over her clit again, letting out a breath as she begins to speed up her pace. Water hits her body like waves, her fingers pressing hard as they trace her clit and keep her edging towards a release.

“Penellaphe.” Casteel growls. She could hear the frustration leaking through his words. “I can smell you. I can smell what you’re doing. Get here and let me do it for you.”

With a satisfied grin, she pulls her leg up, foot pressed against the lip of the tub. It opens herself up further, and she lets out another moan.

“No.” she says simply, leaning her head back and letting the pleasure ripple through her as she speeds her hand up over her clit, pressing harder against it as her other hand grabs at her breast.

“Penellaphe.” He groans, his head dropping against the door frame as he listens to her breaths, her moans, the water hitting her skin.

Her hips rise, another moan escaping her as she works her clit, the coil beginning to tighten in her abdomen.

“Oh.” She whispers, arching further up. “Oh. Oh.”

“Poppy.” Cas says, a whine lacing his words.

She lets out a gasping scream, the coil cutting loose and pleasure ripping through her body.

“Fuck.” Cas says, listening to her pleasure herself through the orgasm, moans and whimpers falling from her lips as she keeps running her fingers over, over, over her clit.

Finally, when the pressure was too much to handle, she pulls her hand away, gasping as the pleasure eases itself from her body.

Her eyes close again, and she lets her body calm from the climax.

“Poppy.” Casteel demands, heat filling his words. “Get out here. Now.”

She looks over her shoulder to the locked door, knowing that her husband was wound up, most likely aching for her as he did when he wasn’t inside her for more than a handful of days.

A smile tugs at her lips. “I don’t think I’m quite done yet.”

A snarl tears through the door, causing her to let out a laugh and place her hand back down between the lips, tugging a finger between them, back bowing at the sensitivity.

She pulls her hand away again, placing her hands on the sides of the tub and pulling herself up. Once standing, she bends to pull the drain plug, letting the cooling water rush away. Her feet land on a towel when she steps out. Her body turns, ass pressing against the tub as she leans back, foot up on the lip again as she holds herself open.

Her fingers find her clit again, dancing across it and grabbing the slickness from her opening. She dips her fingers in, moaning at the pressure.

There’s tension as her fingers slide in, pressing in all the places she wanted it most.

She pulls them out, pushing them back in, the heel of her hand pressing roughly against her clit. She works herself easily, having figured her own body out on the days that Cas was away on out-of-city excursions. She knew how to make herself feel good, how to make herself feel almost as god as her husband made her feel.

She was pulling herself closer again, closer and closer. Her hips arching off the tub, foot holding her up as she works herself harder.

But the door hits the wall, splinters hitting the floor as they fall from the broken door.

Her head swivels to the door, eyes half lidded as she stares at her flustered husband. His breaths coming fast and heavy as he stares at her, at how she was fucking herself like he often did.

“Poppy.” He whispers, gaze dark as she plunges her fingers back into herself. A wicked moan leaves her, and whatever spell that was cast upon Cas, breaks.

He strides towards her, knees roughly hitting the floor before her. She stares at him, watching him as he places his hands on her knees, trailing them up her thighs as he watches her hand move within her.

He’d never seen her fuck herself, never watched her cum from her own doings. He knew she did on occasion, when he was gone for too long. But he never could quite picture it in his mind, how beautiful and enticing it was to watch her make herself come undone.

“Let me.” He mutters, grabbing her wrist right as she was about to push back in. She whines as the emptiness hits her, but any thought she has racing through her brain leaves her as he takes her hand, bringing her fingers to his lips.

His mouth was hot around her fingers, tongue dancing over them as he cleaned them for her. His eyes never leaving hers as he slowly pulled her hand away, fingers retracting from his throat.

She was hot, her body on fire as she watched him. There was a smirk on his lips, fangs poking out against his bottom lip. He set her hand down, letting it rest on his shoulder while he leaned in closer, his nose skimming her thigh.

Her breath catches as he moves closer, lips pressing small, wet kisses over little bites he was placing up her thighs.

His nose brushes her clit, and she arches against him. There’s a chuckle that comes from him, basking in her need. Closer, and closer. Until his teeth skim over her clit.

She bows, arching against the sensation.

“Cas.” She snaps, staring down at him and pushing her hand into his hair. She tugs him closer to her, pushing his lips against her clit.

He takes the hint easily and quickly, darting his tongue out to push open her lips and drag it up over her opening and her clit.

He relished in her moan, the tightening of her fingers in his hair, forcing him closer against her. She needed him, whether or not she would admit it. She needed this.

Her head falls back, mouth open as he flattens his tongue against her, moving his head with his motions so he could make her feel as good as fucking possible. He was buried between her thighs, letting them tense around him as he worked his tongue on her.

Her moans were loud, music to his ears. His hand trails up her thigh, squeezing along the way. His fingers were rough as they came between her legs, dragging her open below his tongue.

As her thighs began to quake, he pushes three of his fingers in.

Her screaming moan echoed in his ears, his grin unable to be forced away as he ate her, licking her like it was the last time it would ever happen.

“Cas-.” She gasps, fingers tugging at his hair. “Cas, please.”

“I’m going to cum.” She sobs, grinding herself against his face as his fingers ram into her fast and hard. A quick turn of his wrist and his middle finger was pressing tightly against a spot that had her seeing stars. “Cas, please I’m gonna – please. I’m gonna-.”

A scream falls from her lips, legs wrapping around his shoulders in a tight embrace. She’s arched, back aching as the pleasure strings her up like a bow ready to break.

His tongue and fingers don’t stop, they keep up the brutal pace. Sending her into the realm of overstimulation and pleasured pain. Her screams turn into jagged whimpers, sobs wracking her body as she finally curls around him.

As her body trembles, he slows his pace, letting it drag on before coming to a stop.

It takes her a few minutes of shaky deep breaths before she unfurls herself from around him, placing her legs down and setting her toes on the floor.

Casteel is staring at her, eyes dark and his features tight. He moves faster than she can process what he’s doing, and suddenly, she’s in his arms. Her legs wound tightly around his hips and her arms around his shoulders.

His lips are on hers in seconds, the sweet taste of honeydew coating her tongue as he shoves his own in her mouth.

They’re moving, his hands firmly cupping her ass as he takes her to the bedroom. His movements are bumpy, and she can feel him pressed up against the back of her thigh.

Her lips are still against his, moving and sucking on his bottom lip, holding it between her teeth and biting down lightly. His groan vibrates through her, almost as much as the fall onto the bed.

It creaks beneath their weight, mattress hard against her back. She grunts slightly, feeling him adjust above her, his hand fumbling with the ties of his breeches. She can feel him push them down, unleashing what she wanted most.

The pants were around his thighs as he tries to line up with her entrance, his breaths rasping against her cheek.

There’s a moment, and she wraps her legs around him, using any momentum and surprise against him to turn him onto his back.

His head hits the pillow with a slight bounce, her folds perfectly holding his burning cock between them. His cheeks are rosy, red seeping over his chest from the heat of his desire. His moan is intoxicating. “Poppy.”

She smiles down as him, sliding herself over him, not letting him in despite how badly he wanted it. “Yes, your highness.”

“Now is not the time to play games.” He tells her, she could almost feel him trying to compel her. But the magic of his words wrapped around her like a hug.

“Oh but I think it is.” She coos, leaning down to take his earlobe between her teeth. “Don’t you want to have fun?”

“I want to be inside you.” He grumbles, his hands sliding up her thighs and landing on her ass again. With a quick snap, his hand stung against her ass.

She arches from the pain, but there’s a grin on her face with a look in her eyes that told him he would not be getting what he wanted as quickly as he thought.

Her hips rock, dragging her cunt against him, coating him in her previous climax. His eyes roll back in his head, the feeling almost euphoric. She sits up, bracing her hands on his chest. Her hips rock again, rolling against him. She lets the tip of his cock brush with her entrance, teasing what he wanted.

He grunts beneath her, looking down to watch her tease him. He was going to die this way, he knew he was going to die this way. There was no way he could survive the pleasure rippling through his body, couldn’t survive this almost pleasure that she was giving him.

He was going to cum. He mumbles it to her, watching her move faster and harder along him. “I’m going to cum princess.”

“No you’re not.” She replies, going up on her knees and pulling herself away from him completely.

He curses, hands gripping her hips tightly, fingers digging into her as his orgasm fades from him. “Penellaphe.” He warns, watching her eyes light with mischief.

But she’s already moving. Her skin dragging against his as she moves down his body, looking up at him only when his cock was resting between her breasts.

He was flushed, watching his once pure, innocent wife looking at him like a predator chasing her prey. Her hand reaches his cock, wrapping around it gently, giving it a slight squeeze.

“You’ll cum when I tell you to.” She all but purrs, leaning down to press a kiss to a scar on his hip.

His mind went blank, watching her move a little bit further down.  Her mouth was so close to his tip, lips so close to his possibly spontaneous combustion.

His cock was purple, aching and dark against her pink lips. Her eyes never leaving his as she lowers her mouth onto him.

He was wrong. This was how he was going to die. Right here, in his wife’s beautiful mouth.

Her tongue was pressed right under the head, sending shocks up and down his body as she swirled her tongue around him, lowering her head further down and taking more than half of him into her mouth, his tip brushing against the top of her mouth and the back of her throat.

The vein that threaded the underside of him pulsed against her swirling tongue, and she paused on it, putting slight pressure against it as she dragged her mouth off.

Her hand found his sac, massaging it gently with a wicked gleam to her eyes while her mouth returned to its ministrations on his length.

His hips were bucking, pushing himself further into her mouth. His mouth open in silent moans as she wraps her other hand around his base, moving along with her mouth.

His sac tightened, abdomen trembling under the pressure of his once more building orgasm.

“Poppy.” He warns, moving up onto his elbows to watch her.

But she didn’t stop, not until he had fallen back, tangling his hand into her hair and trying to guide her further down on him.

The muscles in his legs tense, breath held in his throat as he let out a brutal moan, his climax right there.

But then she was gone, kneeling between his legs, wiping her mouth of his precum and saliva, the other hand trailing her nails against his locked muscles. He wanted to curse, to bring her onto him and make her ride him.

But instead, as the orgasm faded away, he stood on shaky legs, kicking off his pants. His hands shook as they held onto the pitcher of water beside the bed. He poured two cups, handing her one with a look that promised her that he would ruin her.

Innocence glazed over her features, taking the water with a soft smile, a smile that almost covered her knowing what she was doing to him.

She sips her water watching him.

He dumps his on his head, the droplets clinging to his hair and trailing down his face. “You are a menace.” He tells her, sitting beside her.

She’s hiding her chuckles, a gasp replacing it as he wraps his hand into her hair and pulling her closer to him.

“I will give you what you deserve.” He promises into her hair, kissing the top of her head before pulling his hand from her hair.

His hands reach into her hair, sectioning it quickly. She’s confused for the slightest of moments before he starts to plait her hair, twisting the strands together into a messy braid, as clean as it can be without being brushed.

There’s a tie on his wrist, and he wraps it around the bottom of her plait.

“Ride me.” He commands, fingers trailing and grabbing her chin, forcing her to look at him.

“So demanding.” She says, setting the cup down on the table.

“Please, Poppy.” He corrects himself, the whine showing through the command.

She purrs, her chest warm. She brings her knees up, crawling onto her hands and knees, following the lines of his body as he leans back.

She’s seated above him, her hand gripping his member, angling it to slide into her. “Is this what you want?”

She lowers herself, sliding just his tip into her.

“yes.” He hisses, clawing at her hips, pushing her down.

She holds herself still, despite his urging. “Are you sure?”

“Poppy, please.” Cas curses, pushing her down.

She releases herself, and with his push, she’s fully seated on him.

His cock is hitting her cervix immediately, the curve of it exactly where she needed it. His eyes close, relief flooding his face.

She lifts herself, rolling her hips as she goes back down. So much different than the first time she had done this to him on the forest floor. So much time had passed between then and now, but his reactions to her hadn’t changed.

His one hand stays on her hip, the other trailing down and brushing her clit as she moved against him.

Her eyes roll, the bud still sensitive from her two previous orgasms. But she was determined to have another. She rocks her hips, clenching around him as she moves.

“fuck.” He curses, snapping his hips up to meet hers. There’s a rough skin on skin slapping that fills the room, orchestrated with her soft moans and his frantic gasps. “Poppy.”

She stills again, and he’s ready to lose it. She sits on him, fully seated as his orgasm once again fades from him.

“Poppy, I can’t do this.” He says, body shaking beneath her. “Poppy, fuck princess, please.”

“Not yet.” She whispers, leaning down to him and giving him a kiss full of promise. Her hips begin to move again, her pussy tightening around him almost unbearably. His finger is dancing over her clit, feeling her coil and uncoil as he urges her closer towards her orgasm.

She’s beautiful, a beautiful, murderous, torturous little creature.

She’s bouncing on him, breasts grazing over his chest with every pump. He was thrusting into her, sac slapping against her ass as he pounded into her. His fingers still grazing her clit, her slick coating his upper thighs and hand.

“Oh.” She whispers, squeezing her eyes shut. “Oh, again again again. Cas please again.”

He pulls his hand away, grabbing her hips with both hands tightly. He took over, she was a statue above him, mouth open in a silent scream, her hands holding her breasts as she sat up and leaned back, arching painfully.

She was a vice around him, so tight he couldn’t breathe as she came. She tossed her head back, legs tensed into stones on either side of his waist.

As the breath tore from her, she let out a primal scream, a sob following it as he continued to pound into her, harder and harder. Faster, until she sobbed again. He paused, breath heavy as she collapsed onto him, body shaking dangerously.

She was whimpering into his ear, his hands running up and down her sides gently, down to her thighs to massage the tenseness out of her.

As she loosened around him, he looks at her, pulling her off of him slowly.

He set her beside him, her body still shaking from her still wracking orgasm. He moved quickly, kneeling behind her as he brought her hips up to him, her ass pressing tightly against his upper thighs.

“Tapping out princess?” He teases, reaching around her to graze her clit.

She whimpers, but presses herself back tighter against him, and he knew she wanted more.

God did she want more, her orgasm still making her toes curl and her breath come in gasps. But fuck she wanted more, she wanted it again.

He was sheathed back into her within seconds, her raw pussy clenching around him. He held her hips, rocking her back onto him slowly, getting her used to this position and the ease of her fading orgasm.

But then his hand reached up, wrapping tightly into her braid, the thick strand coiled around his knuckles. He pulled on it, her back arching downwards and letting him hit that perfect spot in her, the spot he knew would have her screaming at least once more time.

He was ready to blow, holding himself back as he began to snap his hips, length pulling all the way out of her before snapping back into her repeatedly. Slow pull out, harsh push back in.

She was a moaning mess beneath him, her breath coming in jagged gasps as he tightens his hold on her braid, guiding her back against him, forcing her to meet his thrusts.

“One more time princess.” He tells her, and he’s sure she didn’t hear him, or couldn’t comprehend his words in her muddled mind.

“One more time.” Cas repeats, getting slightly harder with his thrusts. He angles himself differently, and she lets out a strangled screech.

There it is, there’s a smirk on his lips, sweat gleaming over his skin like a film. He could feel himself beginning to lose control, frowning, he reaches around her again, tugging her up by her hair, bringing her closer to him.

His fingers were on her clit once more, brutal in their pace against it. She was sobbing against him, cursing and blubbering, begging for him to give it to her again, begging him to cum in her. She was a mess, words almost incoherent.

He was hard against her, skin slapping as he sped himself up, pushing himself further into her as his abdomen began to tighten.

Casteel was becoming sloppy, his fingers moving harder and faster against her.

He felt her still, arching away from him as she screams again, her hands reaching to grab onto the headboard with both hands.

But he wasn’t done yet, she could feel that he wasn’t. He was still hard in her, his pace unforgiving as he slammed harder and harder into her, his fingers relentless against her clit.

She was tight around him, making it hard to move within her.

He let go of her plait, gripping her hip again, the other hand still working her, elongating her orgasm in an almost painful way.

She was still holding the headboard, slamming her ass back against him as she screams again, eyes squeezed shut, knuckles white.

It tore through her again, before the last one was completed, she was going through another one. It was brutal, how the pleasure flashed white against her eyelids. He was going harder, hips stuttering every other thrust.

She was still on the peak of her orgasm as his ripped through him.

His grunting moans were loud, fading into yells as he pumped himself dry in her.

“Princess.” He chokes, hands tight on her hip, the other still torturing her clit.

He doesn’t stop, letting himself work her through her high as he softens. She’s still screaming softly, mouth buried against her arm, trying to keep herself quiet.

But finally, she whimpers, shaking against him, pulling herself away from his cock.

“Please.” She sobs, her body wracking with the tremors. She was shaking the bed, her skin coated in sweat and flushed from the orgasm that was still there, still fading away.

He pulls his hand away, leaning forward to kiss her shoulder blade.

She leans back, collapsing against him with gasping breaths, her head tilting so she could kiss his skin, salty against her tongue. He holds her, holding her chin and capturing her lips, letting her sit against his thighs while she finally relaxed.

“Good girl.” He praises, kissing her again. “Don’t play again unless you know you can take it.”

She glares, eyes darkening. “Insufferable.”