Page 13 of His Stolen Queen
"My Queen." He bent to steal a kiss from me. I could feel a sharpness against my mouth, but instead of feeling frightened, it comforted me as more memories flooded my psyche.
His familiar term of endearment also warmed my body like a heavy blanket on a cold winter night.
My Queen. Always his Queen.
I cupped his face, memorizing his features, determined to etch them into my soul.
I can't forget. I can't forget.
"I love you, my Queen." His voice had a melancholy tone, and I could feel my heart mourning in twin anguish. He rested his forehead against mine, our breaths mingling.
I hated that our meetings were always tinged with a lingering sadness.
I wrapped my legs around his waist, clutching his shoulders desperately. "Don't leave me," I begged.
Instead of answering, he lined his cock up with my pussy and slowly inched inside. I welcomed the burning stretch even though I protested the act.
He always left after it.
Selfishly, I wanted to soak in our love forever, whispering sweet nothings and murmurs of devotion into each other's mouths.
But I also lived for the violent love we made. The way our limbs tangled. The animalistic sounds we made. And when that pinnacle arrived, where his seed seeped into me—it was my favorite final act because he reciprocated by taking my life source into his body.
"The sweetest nectar I have ever tasted," he would reverently say. "Nothing has ever compared."
As he moved inside me, his movements became a rapid blur. I tossed my head back and reveled in the familiar sensation. The pleasure. Nothing and no one had ever come close to how he felt inside me.
The sudden sting of his sharpness licked up my neck, and with a strength that almost matched his, I flipped him. His body quickly transitioned to under me, and he flashed me a primal grin. He knew how much I loved this position.
He sat up between my spread thighs, and I instinctively moved my head to the side. My hips thrusted up and down on his lap, my breathing frantic, and my eyes closed…anticipating the act of mutual love that awaited. That carnal, criminally delicious deed that made me come harder than I ever have. The way my insides clenched and released as the warmth left my body and into…him.
Him. Him. Him.
My love. My Ki…
"My Queen," he commanded.
My wet eyes clashed with his, gasping as they turned black. Instead of feeling frightened, I cupped his cheeks gently as I chanted his name.
"Yes, come for your King!"
Light burst behind my eyes as a sting penetrated my flesh—
I jerked awake with a gasp, panicking as my hands clawed at my neck.
Sweat beaded my forehead, and my body felt damp with it too. My breaths puffed out rapidly, and my heart was galloping as if it were about to pound out of my chest.
A deep, sorrowful sadness hit me, and my face crumpled with emotion. I rubbed at the pang of loneliness in my chest just as I felt it start to ebb.
One moment, I was collapsing under a great weight of grief, and the next, I was slowly coming around to the fact that all was right in my little world. I recognized where I was and what had occurred.
I’d had a dream. A nightmare?
For a minute, I was disoriented again. The room was dark and unrecognizable. My eyes closed, and scenes from a familiar place blinked behind my lids before they slowly faded.
Blue eyes.
I gasped, and my eyes flew open.
