Romans & histoires King Of Lust

Our tongues touched and embraced each other like they were old friends. His kiss felt familiar, like it wasn’t our first time. He kissed me like he was claiming me. Shit. I wanted it to keep going. And it did. His hands found my neck and pulled me in closer. Heat and wetness pooled between my thighs. Yes, I was horny. Wishing for more. His wandering hand found its way under my crop top, lingering just below my boobs. I wanted it to move higher. I shouldn’t have but I wanted it to.

“Start with the fingers. He won’t need them anymore.” Then I turned, pushed Dax to the wall, dropped to my knees, and took his cock in my mouth—slow, deep, queen style. He groaned, hands in my hair, hips moving. Lula filmed it on my Z9—new title already in her head: “QUEEN RIVEN’S FIRST DECREE”. By noon the crew knelt and swore loyalty. By night the first new load rolled—my roads, my prices, my rules. By the end of the week half the Southwest bought from the woman who took the pit with a detonator and a soaked cunt.

His hand was strong, proving that he was truly a mafia as described. I don't know why, but I began to breathe heavily. His eyes suddenly monitored my breasts which were slightly exposed as I had stoop low to wipe his face. I saw him gulped gently and continued staring into my bust. I wonder why he did that? Why is he staring at me lustfully? What is in his mind? Couldn't he just let me go? I made a gentle pull to get off his grip, however he tightened it. "You---Look" he paused and relented from saying anything further.

“Someone will hear.” Despite my protest, my clit throbbed with need. Heat gathered like a firestorm in my lungs as those strong, deft hands caressed me, molding to my hips and thighs, stoking the fires higher and hotter until they incinerated my reservations. “No, they won't.” James sank to his knees and pushed my knees wider, granting him an unfettered view of my soaked arousal. His eyes gleamed up at me, dark and bright as volcanic glass. “It's my apartment.”

But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. During her stay, his fascination only grew. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. One night, a loud thud from her room startled him. King Magdon rushed to her chamber, his heart pounding in his chest. He pushed open the door to find Queen Lustia on the floor, her body twisted in agony, her wrists still bound by the cuffs. Her eyes, wide with panic, flicked up at him. She was trembling, beads of sweat dripping from her forehead, and her breath came in desperate gasps. The king had never seen her in such distress.

She motioned for me to sit and got behind me to undo my braid. "The King has four partners at the moment. You will see their rings. They're the Kings. Three women and one man. He has a preference for women, so Ren, the male partner, is there to please the other women. The King feeds off Lust, which means he will be able to fill himself with lust that other people feel. He doesn't necessarily have to have intercourse, but of course he does with his partners, except for Ren. The realm of Lust is quite known for... Well you can guess." Guela explained. I cleared my throat and ignored the thoughts in my head. Four of them?

I was placed on a bed and the man turned his back on me and started walking away. I thought he was going to close the door before coming back to me. I wasn't a fool. I knew why I was here. After hearing the man I didn't get to see refer to him as your majesty, I knew I was doomed. I was a slave to the notorious mateless Lycan King. Rumour has it that he's ruthless and a womaniser. He takes female wolves or Lycans as his sex slaves and discards them when he's bored.

"I'm terrified. What if the King actually chooses someone this time? What if it's someone we know?" "It won't be us. We're Omegas. Servants. He wants a Luna to strengthen his bloodline." "Still." She sat back on her heels, wringing out her rag. "They say he's cursed. That his beast is so violent he can't control it. Three pack members died last year just for looking at him wrong." I'd heard the stories. Kael Devereaux, the Lycan King. Thirty years old, ruling for fifteen, and absolutely brutal. He'd unified the territories through conquest and fear. Packs that defied him were destroyed. Traitors were executed publicly.

One more second and he was about to take my silence as consent, his other hand squeezing my ass was getting desperate. So, I pushed him away with full force. Gasping hard for breath, I yelled at the top of my lungs. “How can you use my gratitude for your lecherous intentions? NO! You are a King; how can you even stoop so low to fuck an omega maid? Are you out of your mind?” A look of great bitterness swept across King’s face as he balled his fingers into fists, his elongated nails dug into his palms, puncturing his flesh. The sight of blood dripping from his fists put the last nail in my coffin.

The constant whispers from behind him diverted his attention. "She is indeed beautiful," the Blood Lust pack members who accompanied Lycan King murmured among themselves. But one threatening growl from Lycan King was enough to make everyone shut up. They were well aware that the Lycan King is very possessive, and that if they looked or stared at his mate, who is soon to be the Luna Queen of their pack, he would squeeze out their eyes and pull out their tongues and chop them in pieces in less than a second. The Lycan King's eyes met Princess Orla's eyes, which were blazing with rage and hatred. But it makes no difference to him because he knows that willing or not, she has to be his. There is