Masked Prince - Nikolai Andrew Page 0,36

from her body so I could watch her, naked as she slept. She had her knee drawn up slightly towards her body, while the leg nearest the mattress was mostly straight.

Very carefully, I slid my hand down, down, down her thigh and slipped one finger between her pussy lips. She was drenched, fucking soaked, and I groaned hard when I felt her silky sweet juices. I went slowly because I didn’t want to wake her, not right yet, and penetrated her half an inch at a time.

My cock was so hard, I thought I might cum right there, without even grabbing my dick. Like a fucking wet dream—and I’d had a shitload of those in her honor, too. I’d made more sheets crusty with cum than I could count.

I penetrated her as she slept, with my first and middle fingers, gently massaging her cunt walls, like I was telling her to come here, come here. That same motion made her cum more than once last night. Figuring out what she liked and needed made me feel so fucking powerful. That was what this dance was all about.

I would dominate her only so that I could be her everything; I would rule her so that I would know every desire she had before she even knew it herself.

With the pad of my thumb, I touched her clit and she gave a low, sleepy moan. I paused, waiting to see if she’d open her eyes, but she didn’t. Her face didn’t give anything away either. She wasn’t pretending to sleep; there was no suppressed smile, no deep inhale of coming into consciousness. She was still sound asleep, and I was getting her close to orgasm. Fucking sexy as hell.

Her wetness increased and her clit swelled against my thumb. She parted her lips slightly and her breathing quickened. Fuck, I needed to be inside her. Right fucking now.

But just as I was about to get on top of her, she turned her body, and drew up her leg, pinning my hand right between her thighs. She was strong as fuck, much stronger than most women. I tried to rotate my wrist, but she had me pinned in the honeypot. Held hostage by the hottest pussy in the universe.

As soon as I stopped fingering her and massaging her clit, her breathing slowed and she drifted back off to the deep, quiet sleep from which I’d tried to wake her.

She was fucking exhausted, and no wonder. She’d been through hell and back yesterday, and then I rocked her fucking world hour upon hour until we were both spent and exhausted. Best thing I could do for her now was let her sleep. And that’s what I always wanted for her. The very best.

Though it pained me to do it, I slowly dislodged my hand from between her legs, careful not to move more than I had to. Once I had my hand free, I put my fingers to my nose and inhaled. Honey and seashells. My cock responded instantly.

There was nothing like that smell. Fucking nothing. The aphrodisiac to beat them all, bar fucking none.

Cock throbbing and so hard it hurt, I forced myself out of bed, adjusting my balls as I walked to the wash basin. Every muscle in my body was sore from fucking her. And if I was sore, I thought, glancing at her in the mirror, she must be fucking wrecked. After I splashed water on my face and pulled on a pair of britches, I made my way up to my own quarters, and tugged on a rope that ran up to the ceiling, which rang the bell for my maid.

After barely a minute, I heard a knock at the door. It was my maid, who’d been looking after me in one way or another since I was a kid. Her name was Melinda. I couldn’t have asked for better help. She kept all my secrets, put up with my shit, and wasn’t afraid to tell me I was being a bone-headed asshole when necessary.

“Good morning, my lord,” she said, with a deep curtsy. “Breakfast?”

“Yeah,” I said, keeping my voice low. Iris was one floor below, surrounded by walls of the thickest stone, but I didn’t want to chance her waking without my being there. “But it needs to be seriously special. The works. No trouble spared.”

She looked a little surprised. Without fail, I had a simple breakfast of eggs, fresh bread, and butter. But after a moment’s hesitation, she