Chapter 41: Scarred: Chapter 39

One word and I’m feral.

My hands grip and grope and grab, needing to feel with my fingertips that her perfect skin is unmarred. I’m enraged somebody thought to take matters into their own hands, after I explicitly stated not to touch her. When Edward told me, a blinding fury overwhelmed me, but it was also mixed with a new emotion.

Fear.

There’s only been one thing I’ve longed for in this world, and it’s at my fingertips, the crown so close I can almost reach out and place it on my head.

But now there’s her.

And everything else pales in comparison. There is nothing I wouldn’t do to keep her by my side. She is everything. And if she’s hurting, I will torture the people who caused it until they beg me to let them die.

I cup one of her breasts in the palm of my hand, feeling her soft skin mold beneath my grip. Her nipples are hard, pebbling beneath the thin material of her torn nightgown, and my mouth waters, demanding that I lean down and have a taste for myself. So I do.

“Tristan,” she moans, her fingers tugging at the strands of my hair until the root stings.

My teeth sink into her skin and she yelps, her hips lifting until she’s pressed against my groin, making my cock jerk from the friction. I release her nipple with a pop and move off of her, smirking.

“Where are you going?” she complains. “Come back.”

I ignore her pleas and walk to the nightstand, grabbing a thick candle off its base and heading back toward the bed. She’s watching me, her forehead scrunched, and her cheeks flushed red, as she sprawls out against cream silk sheets, her black hair splayed wildly around her.

My footsteps falter as I take her in, nude and aroused, her body high and sensitive from the roller coaster of emotions she’s no doubt already gone through today. A lesser woman would have broken. Yet here she is, acknowledging her pain and letting it mold her instead.

She’s breathtaking. I want to fuck her until she breaks; breed her until my cum oozes from her pores and every person knows who it is she belongs to.

I reach for her ankle, dragging her down to the edge of the bed, placing the candle on the ground next to my side.

She shrieks, her long legs kicking at my chest, and I smirk, delight filling my veins that my smart-mouthed witch is still alive and well. My grasp tightens and I tsk at her, fingers dancing along the front of her shin, over the top of her knee, and to the inside of her thigh.

And then I pinch.

Her eyes flutter and her mouth parts.

“I think you like pain with your pleasure, don’t you, little doe?” I tilt my head, trying to keep myself from pouncing on top of her and burying my face in her pussy.

“You don’t know what I like,” she bites back, her eyes flashing.

I let out a soft laugh, my hand smoothing over the reddened area from where I smarted her skin. “We both know you’ll take whatever I give you, ma petite menteuse.”

Grabbing the hem of my shirt, I lift it over my head, the air hitting my skin and causing a slight chill. Or maybe that’s her eyes soaking up my body like its water, flicking from the artwork detailed along my upper arms, to where they cover the front of my chest.

Together we rule, divided we fall. She mouths the phrase as she reads my tattoo, and it sends a shot straight to my dick, wanting to know what it would feel like if she spelled the words out with her tongue.

I roll my tunic in my hands, folding it over. “And when you’re on the edge of oblivion…” Her eyes close when I lay the fabric on top of them, my fingers slipping behind her curls to wrap it around her skull until she’s blind. I bend until our lips brush, reaching down with my hand and grabbing the candle, a shot of desire flying through me when the flame grazes my skin. “It’s my name that will be screaming from those pretty little lips.”

I raise the candle above her forearm, tilting my hand until the melted wax trickles from where it pools beneath the flame, drizzling onto the perfect cream of her skin.

“Oh,” she gasps. Her mouth parts as she jerks her arm back, but I grab her wrist, bringing it up to my mouth and blowing, watching as it hardens to a cast on her skin.

“Tristan,” she whispers.

“Do you like how it feels?” I ask, running my fingers through the cooling liquid. “I know you do. I bet, if I reached down right now, your perfect little snatch would be crying for me. Begging for something to fill it. Wouldn’t it, filthy girl?”

Moving to the top of her arm now, I repeat the action, the white wax pouring onto her skin as my other hand slips from her collarbone, down the length of her torso, until I’m brushing against soft curls. “Do you know how badly I’ve ached to touch you?”

I lean down, no longer able to resist the urge to have her taste in my mouth, and lave kisses along the middle of her belly, tilting the candle as I do, pouring a long line of paraffin to trace the places I’ve just marked with my lips.

She moans, her back arching off the bed as her legs clench together, her thighs pressing my hand between them. I force them back apart, my fingers gripping her inner thigh. “Keep them open. I want to see your pretty cunt as it swells and begs me to let it come.”

Her breathing falters, but her body relaxes, and her legs fall open wider than they were before. The sight of her pussy glistening and ripe makes my balls tighten and heat coil around my spine.

She’s surprisingly noncombative in this setting, and it pleases me. My hand slips from her thigh, running over the hardened wax and up to her throat, squeezing until I feel her heartbeat beneath my fingers. “Such a good girl.”

She licks her lips, and I move the candle to her collarbone, watching her reaction as I dribble the hot liquid onto her skin, moving my hand so it creates lines of wax along her chest, over the pink of her nipples, and down the line of her stomach, pooling in her belly button.

I blow out the candle and drop it on the floor. My hand on her neck tightens as I lift her by the throat until our lips graze. “So quiet, little doe. What happened to that smart mouth of yours?”

Her tongue peeks out to swipe across her lips again, and I take the opportunity, sucking it into my mouth and groaning at her taste. I release her neck, and push the blindfold from her face, desperate to have her eyes on me; to know I’m affecting her the same way she is me.

Because she wrecks me. Destroys me from the inside out.

Her eyes are dark, swollen and puffy from her earlier tears, and I step back, enjoying the way her gaze heats my skin as I undo my slacks and step out of them, my cock springing free, hard and angry, drops of cum creating a string of wetness that drips from the tip.

She watches me grip myself and stroke, and I love having her eyes on me. It turns me on, my head falling back from the sensation as I jerk off just for her. Because of her. “Do you see what you’ve done?” I rasp, stepping closer to the end of the bed. “You’ve made me insane.” I move onto the bed, spreading her legs wider as I crawl into the space between them. “I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can’t fucking breathe without thinking of you.”

Leaning down until our chests graze, I slap my cock against her swollen cunt, heat spiking through me when I can feel her nerves tense and pulse beneath my shaft.

“Do you deserve to come yet, ma petite menteuse?” I ask, thrusting my hips so my length slides along her soaking folds.

She moans, her breasts pressing into me as she arches.

“I always deserve to come.” She smirks.

My tongue traces along the seam of her lips, and I glance down, watching my dick slip along her pussy, my head engorged and purple as the skin pulls back with every forward thrust.

“I could tease you all night like this.” Rising, my hands grip her thighs, spreading them wider. “It’s a thing of beauty, making you wanton and flushed beneath me.”

“Tristan,” she mewls. “Please.”

“Are you a virgin, Sara?” My movements halt, muscles tensing as pinpricks of pleasure skitter through the tops of my legs and up my abdomen. Another man has touched her. She’s already told me as much. But I can’t imagine she would come to the castle without her purity intact, knowing she was planning to bed the king.

The thought of her with my brother is a serrated knife slicing through my middle, allowing jealousy to pour into the gaping wound like salt.

“Yes,” she whispers.

One word and my edges fray and snap, delirious with the need to be the one who claims her. Unable to bear the thought of it being any other way. My hand squeezes my throbbing cock and I slide it down her wet slit until it’s pressing against her tight little hole. I lean forward again, my chest grazing hers and my mouth skimming against her ear. “And if I were to take you?”

Her legs wrap around my hips, pressing me farther into her. “Then I’m yours for the taking.”

Heat shoots through my core, and my muscles tense with restraint.

I press in, the tip spreading apart her lips until they stretch around me, making my mind crazy with the need to thrust. To pump. To fuck. “And tell me, ma petite menteuse. Do you trust me?”

She hesitates, her eyes flaring with a dark emotion. “No,” she whispers.

I smirk. “Good.”

And then I slide inside of her, all the way to the hilt, my eyes rolling back as her tight cunt swallows me whole. There’s resistance, but it breaks, and my self-discipline disintegrates when I picture her blood coating the length of my dick, proving she’s mine and no one else’s.

The feeling of having her after so long of trying to resist is a drug. It flows through every vein and tantalizes every nerve, making warmth spread through my body until euphoria fills me.

She cries out, her legs tightening around my waist. I run my hand along the top of her hair and over her cheek until I’m cupping her face. “So fucking perfect.”

My chest pulls and my cock pulses against her walls, her tight virgin hole squeezing against me with every breath.

I lean down and kiss her because I need to kiss her. Want to feel her lips on mine and her breath against my mouth as I make her come apart around me.

Her arms fly to my shoulders when I start a slow and steady rhythm, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in, relishing in the way her body molds to mine like the missing piece of a puzzle.

“Are you okay?” I whisper against her mouth.

“You’re right.” She sinks her teeth into my lip, biting down until skin breaks, my balls drawing up so tight, a little cum leaks out. “I like the pain.”

I groan, throwing my head back. I’ll be damned if this woman wasn’t molded in the heavens and plucked from the sky just for me.

“Harder,” she demands, her legs tightening around my waist.

Heat collects at the base of my spine as I pull my cock out to the tip, glancing down to see her wetness coating along the shaft. I slam back in. She cries out, her fingernails digging into my back.

I hiss at the sting and increase my pace, unable to hold back, an animalistic need blinding me to everything except the need to claim her. Sweat collects on my brow as I drive inside of her, over and over, from root to tip, her walls fluttering around me and squeezing tight.

“You try to be so difficult,” I rasp. “But you’re such a perfect filthy girl when I’m breaking apart your cunt.”

Her eyes flare, mouth parting on a silent scream.

“Does it hurt?”

“Yes,” she whispers.

“Good.” I rise up, my hands gripping beneath her legs as I lift them, spreading them apart so I can watch her swollen and abused center take my cock. The sight is incredibly erotic, and a sense of rightness spreads through my chest. Nothing has ever felt like this.

Her walls flutter, and I drop her, chasing the high that only she can provide. My fingers slip to where she needs me most, rubbing until her head thrashes back and forth.

She’s close. I can feel it in the way her muscles tense, arousal dripping from her and making a mess of me. Lifting my hand, I bring it down on her swollen nerves, a sharp smack resounding through the air.

She gasps, crying out as her legs tremble at my sides.

My muscles tighten as pleasure threatens to consume me. “Such a filthy girl, drenching my dick like you’re my whore.”

I do it again, sharp slaps that make her skin puffy and red, her inner walls milking me until my vision blurs.

And then she explodes, the top half of her body flying from the bed, her arms and legs wrapping around me, her chest pressing against mine. My hands move to her hips, holding her to me as I thrust up into her, chasing my high as she shatters around me.

“Tristan!” she cries.

She bites the juncture of my neck, whimpering as she holds on.

My balls tense and for just a moment, I consider coming inside of her. Everything in me screams to do it. To coat her walls; ensure that no one else can claim her as theirs. But a bit of logic floats in, knowing if she were to become pregnant before I ascend the throne, there would be nothing but death in her future.

So at the last second, I push her back down onto the bed, slipping out of her with a pop, and I pull at my length, her wetness making my hand glide along the shaft effortlessly. Groaning, I throw my head back, my muscles seizing tight. “Tell me you want it.”

“I want it.” There’s no hesitation in her tone now.

“Beg for it,” I demand.

She moves from where she’s lying, flipping around until she’s on all fours, that perfect ass high in the air as she crawls toward me until she’s beneath my rigid length. She looks up at me from beneath her lashes, her hands gliding up the inside of my thighs.

My abdomen clenches in pleasure, the coil winding tighter inside of me. It’s an incredible sight, her slinking toward me like an animal, her virginity smeared along my cock as she prepares to beg me for my cum.

“Tristan,” she whispers. “Please.”

My muscles tense, my shaft jerking in my hand.

“Paint it on my skin so everyone knows who I belong to.”

And that’s all it takes for me to explode, stars dotting my vision as my cock spurts shot after shot all over her face, dripping down her cheeks and splashing onto the swell of her breasts.

My chest heaves and my ears ring from the blinding pleasure.

I look down at her, my mouth parted, aftershocks vibrating through my veins.

She smirks, her tongue peeking out to lick the cum from her lips, her fingers swiping through the mess on her collarbone and rubbing it into her skin.

“Yours,” she purrs.

Reaching down, I smooth my hand over her face, my thumb pressing into the wetness on her cheek and smearing it before moving it to her mouth.

She sucks, her tongue swirling around the tip of my finger, and my cock twitches again, something I’ve never felt before bursting like fireworks in my chest.