A Love From A Different World

Chapter 31

Aelin was by far the least excited about playing a whore. Especially for a male. She had been finally freed from her chains years ago- and now she was willingly given her leash to someone else. Breathing, Aelin reminded herself of why she was doing this, of the payoff. Being the consequentialist that she was, the assassin simply gave her own smirk to Rhysand as she accepted his waiting hand.

She followed him to his throne, willing to keep her smirk from turning into a sneer as he unceremoniously dumped her on his lap. It was uncomfortable sitting on the male; his strong body against hers, the cold spreading across her body. It was just as unpleasant as she had imagined.

Has acting always been this difficult? She wasn't sure. Nonetheless, Aelin kept her expression intact, focusing on the still kneeling subjects before her. She felt rather than saw Rhysand smirk.

"Welcome back," He whispered, his hot breath caressing her ear as his hands drifted down her body.

Instantly her body recoiled from his touch, wincing from the coldness of his hands. As if he understood perfectly, his caresses immediately turned warm. "Pleasure's all mine," She answered back, forcing the words out of her mouth. Aelin wondered how Rhysand was holding; after all hadn't he been forced to play a similar role? Or at least that is what the Mortal Queens had said. And from his reaction she guessed it was true. Despite herself, Aelin felt pity for the male; she was simply doing this for a couple hours, whereas he had done it for decades. Reminding her of this, Aelin stretched back and laid her head on his shoulder.

If he was surprised he did not show it. Instead, Rhysand turned his face towards hers and said, "Rise."

Silently his subjects rose up, standing stiffly, none looking directly at their High Lord.

"Go play."

None had to be told twice; the room instantly moved away from his gaze, they mingled while discreetly watching the pair on the throne.

From the corner of her eye, Aelin saw Azriel fade into the shadows and leave the room- but not before giving a distinctive look towards her. Quickly focus was redirected when she sensed someone staring at her. It was an older-looking male, his golden eyes burning into her skull. The assassin disliked him instantly. He reminded her of a snake.

Just as she was stewing this sudden realization, a hot mouth gently pressed against her neck. Rhysand had just kissed her-was kissing her. His soft lips trailed up and down her neck, making her feel things she didn't want to feel. Every part he touched felt hot, felt magical, felt- she didn't even know. Gods dammit, it felt so good and Rhysand had barely done anything at all. Aelin tilted her head more as his hands went to her legs, spreading them open. The cold was replaced as his fingers doodled on her thighs. If this was bad, this was dangerous. Was it possible to get so wet from such minimum touch? Was it because she hadn't been intimate with anyone in so long? She couldn't think clearly- Rhysand's skilled hands were overpowering her abilities to do much at the moment.

When he nibbled on her ear she sucked in abreath, begging her body to resist to no avail. Her heart slammed against her chest, her mind fighting oh so desperately to keep her sanity. That was another lost battle as Rhysand's tongue made its way out of his mouth and flicked her earlobe.

When had the room blurred? She could not see anything, could not hear anything over the thumping of her heart. Breathing became difficult as she tried resisting the urge to moan. Her entire being fought hard against the impulse, fought hard to keep a shred of her dignity. What would Rhysand think? What would-Gods Dammit, his hands went further down, getting dangerously close to the apex of her legs.

In defiance of herself, all she could think of was that she wanted-needed more. The princess needed those splendid hands elsewhere. Just a little more and he'd be right where she needed. Oh gods, the heat from his mouth was intensifying as he got to her collarbone, sucked it. Aelin was writhing in anticipation, in fear. To hell with the consequences, nothing mattered more than the indescribable pleasure she was feeling. Had she ever felt something so blissful? She wasn't sure of anything right now; for Aelin was totally lost in her rapture. Her body burned so intensely she feared she might effectively burst into flames and reveal all. A tiny portion of her held onto enough sense to stop her magic from taking over.

Her body was singing, vibrating with glee, and Rhysand's hands dived further down and finally went where she needed them- and felt the dampness.