citadel 2

He reached for a length of crimson silk ribbon on the bedside table. He wrapped it around her wrists, binding them tightly behind her back. He pulled the knot firm, ensuring she couldn't break free.

"Your Majesty, why?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"Because I want to see you struggle," he replied.

He pushed her back onto the massive bed, the velvet covers cool against her skin. He climbed over her, his heavy frame pinning her down. He looked down at her, the stoic king replaced by a predator.

He reached down and ripped her knickers away, leaving her completely bare. He stared at the pink folds of her pussy, which were already glistening with wetness. He let out a low, guttural sound.

"You are so wet for me," he observed.

"I can't help it," Lena sobbed.

He dipped two fingers into her heat, sliding them deep inside her. Lena shrieked, her hips bucking upward. The intrusion was sudden and overwhelming, filling her with a sense of fullness.

He began to pump his fingers, the sound of shlicking filling the air. He found the sweet spot on her anterior wall and pressed firmly. Lena's eyes rolled back in her head as waves of pleasure crashed over her.

"Do you like that, little bird?" he asked.

"Yes... oh god, yes," she cried.

He increased the speed, his fingers sliding in and out with a squelching sound. He used his thumb to grind against her clitoris, circling the engorged bud. Lena was on the verge of a peak, her body shaking.

Just as she reached the summit, he pulled his fingers out abruptly. Lena let out a moan of frustration, her legs twitching. She looked up at him, her eyes pleading.

"Please, don't stop," she begged.

"You haven't earned your release yet," he murmured.

He stood up and stripped off his robe, revealing a body carved from granite. His cock was fully erect, a thick, veiny pillar of heat that throbbed with every heartbeat. It was larger than anything Lena had ever imagined.

He grabbed a leather strap from the bedside drawer. He didn't use it on her, but he slapped it against his own thigh, the crack echoing in the room. Lena shivered, the sound sending a jolt of electricity through her.

"I have spent twenty years pretending I do not feel," Alistair said.

He looked at her, his expression raw. He looked haunted by the weight of his crown and the loneliness of his position. Lena felt a surge of tenderness for the man behind the mask.

"You don't have to pretend here," she whispered.

He lunged forward, grabbing her ankles and pulling her to the edge of the bed. He positioned himself between her thighs, the head of his cock brushing against her entrance. He paused, letting her feel the size of him.

"I am going to ruin you for any other man," he warned.

"Ruin me," she pleaded.

He thrust forward with one powerful surge. He buried himself deep inside her, hitting her cervix with a blunt force that made Lena scream. The sensation was an explosion of pressure and heat.

He stayed still for a moment, letting her body adjust to his girth. He was stretching her, filling every crevice of her vagina. Lena felt a mixture of pain and intense pleasure.

"You are so tight," he groaned.

He began to move, withdrawing almost entirely before slamming back in. The sound of their bodies colliding was a wet, rhythmic slap. Shlick, slap, shlick, slap.

Lena's bound wrists strained against the silk, her chest heaving. She felt the friction of his skin against hers, the smell of sweat and musk filling her senses. Every thrust felt like he was claiming a piece of her soul.

"Tell me you are mine," he commanded.

"I am yours... I am your slave," she cried out.

The words seemed to snap something inside him. He increased the pace, his movements becoming frantic and primal. He was no longer the King; he was a man possessed by a hunger that could not be sated.

He gripped her hips, his fingers leaving bruises on her pale skin. He hammered into her, the bed frame creaking under the force of his assault. Lena was drowning in sensation, her world reduced to the feeling of him inside her.

As he thrust, his balls slapped loudly against her perineum. The sound was vulgar and honest, stripping away the pretense of their stations. Lena felt her orgasm building, a tidal wave of heat gathering in her loins.

"I'm going to cum!" she shrieked.

"Do it," he roared.

Lena's body convulsed, her internal muscles clamping tight around his cock. She felt the clench of her orgasm ripping through her, sending sparks of white light across her vision. She sobbed, her head thrashing from side to side.

The intensity of her climax triggered his own. Alistair let out a guttural roar, his body stiffening as he delivered several final, deep thrusts. He buried himself to the hilt, his cock pulsing inside her.

Lena felt the hot, thick jets of his seed hitting her cervix. He filled her, the volume of his cum making her feel heavy and saturated. He collapsed on top of her, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

They lay there for a long time, the only sound the ticking of the clock and their synchronized breathing. Alistair eventually shifted, lifting himself up to look at her. His expression was softer now, almost vulnerable.

He reached behind her and untied the silk ribbons. He massaged her wrists, his touch gentle. Lena leaned into him, her heart still racing.

"Will you come back?" he asked.

"Every night," she promised.

For the next month, the secret passageway became their sanctuary. Lena learned the intricacies of Alistair's desires and the depths of his loneliness. They spoke of things they could never mention in the light of day.

"The council thinks I am a statue," Alistair told her one evening.

They were lying entwined, the sheets damp with their efforts. He was tracing the line of her jaw with his finger. Lena listened, feeling the weight of his confession.

"I see the man," she replied.

"The man is a monster, Lena," he whispered.

"A monster I adore," she countered, kissing his chest.