Kingdom of Lust and Lies

Chapter Eight

That lying bastard.

The third dose of the potion hit her just as hard as the second, compounded by the second having not yet worn off. She strained and twisted, unable to find any form of relief from the aching, throbbing need.

It grew to a point where she couldn't think of anything else. Not escape, not how much she missed Beckett and the others, not even fantasies of revenge against Xanth. What dominated her thoughts now were memories of Beckett and Coen sharing her in a stream hidden deep in the forest, of Gryff's skill with his abnormally long tongue in werewolf form, of that last night in the keep when Beckett bent her over the table.

Sometimes she even thought of Xanth, of the look in his eyes while his head was between her legs. Of the multiple times he made her cum, even when she begged him to stop.

Each time Xanth crossed her mind, she would chase it away with other memories of different men, but he always managed to worm his way back into her fantasies.

With the sounds of the chains rattling and her own desperate moans as she writhed, she didn't hear the door open, didn't hear the soft thud of boots on the plush rugs. Didn't hear anything at all until Xanth spoke.

"Beg me."

Her eyes snapped open. He stood at the foot of bed, his eyes heavy-lidded with lust as he raked her body. Alayna was certain she made for a lewd sight with her legs spread open, the material of her sleeping gown sticking to the moisture between her legs.

She met his gaze. "Please."

It wasn't hard to say the word. She'd say anything as long as he would ease this burning, consuming need.

"Please what?"

"Please fuck me!"

"Yes." His hands went to the buttons on his shirt. In his haste, several of them went flying across the room. Alayna swore it took him ages to unlace his breeches and shove them down.

He was on top of her a moment later, his weight pinning her to the bed. He claimed her mouth in a hard, hungry kiss. Her nipples scraped against his chest and she moaned, the sound lost between their lips. Her hips arched as she sought to find his erection, needing any sort of friction against her clit, but he was careful not to give it to her. He plundered her mouth with his tongue and lips.

Xanth pulled back with a growl and proceeded to rip the sleeping gown from her body, baring her to his gaze. His eyes roamed over her face, her hair spread across the pillow wildly, down to her breasts, which quivered from the force of her breaths. Lower, to her flat stomach, until coming to a stop between her spread thighs.

"You are dripping wet, Fox."

"I can't take it!" She cried, rolling her hips on the bed like she could beckon him. "Please!"

He snatched one of the many pillows from the top of the bed and use one hand to lift her hips, the chains slackening enough to allow them to rise. He shoved the pillow under her backside, forcing her body to tilt at an angle. When he had her in just the right position, he sat back between her legs on his knees, cock in hand.

It was so fucking big. And thick to boot, with ridges all along the top. Her body cried out for it, but her mind was still hesitant.

"I'll go slow," he promised, as if reading her mind. "As slow as I can."

She didn't want slow, even if her common sense knew that was for the best.

"Just do it. I'm dying."

"So am I." He repositioned himself, the crown of his cock kissing her inner folds.