The Captain's Entertainer (Zolan Book 4)

17

CAPTAIN ZAIRO

Elystia lifts the heavy sack in panic-fueled adrenaline and runs off. Her footsteps are sloppy and unbecoming of a gracious entertainer. So endearingly typical of her that I can't help but chuckle.

I walk to the entrance, staring at her retreating back as she turns a corner. Once she disappears, I shake my head and return to my bed.

I hope she masters the alphabet soon, so that I can have her back in my domain. There's nothing more entertaining than standing inches from her and watching her squirm.

I groan as I lay on my furs, extending my arms over my head and feeling my muscles stretch. It was a long day, and but I've hardly made a dent in my pile of work. What's more, my father wrote that he'll be visiting my camp. I haven't seen him in a year, but he never fails to remind me of how disappointed he is with my lifestyle. As he says,'Royals belong in the palace. Not in the wilderness living like savages.'

No matter how much I rescind my damned title as a royal, it always finds me.

I shrug my top off and roll over on the furs, sighing. Falling asleep has been harder since an assassin attempted to slit my throat. I barely avoided hurting Elystia when she broke into my tent that remarkable, unforgettable night.

I shut my eyes, overwhelmed with unfamiliar tension. Looking after the camp and city often leaves me feeling stressed. The thousands of lives under my rule provide constant unease as I realize that my mistakes will cause ripples of suffering. I feel tension in my head and in my chest, but never my cock. I always had an endless supply of eager entertainers, but for the first time since I stepped foot on this camp, I'm haunted by sexual frustration.

I scratch my abdomen before reaching for my pants with both hands. I make quick work of undoing the ties, and fist both of my cocks. My eyes stay shut as I pump both hands, imagining an entertainer on my lap. Her eyes wide as they watch her Captain crumble inside her. Her lips plump and parted, tempting me to abandon her cunt and fill her mouth instead. She wears her typical baggy, ugly hunter clothes that hide her figure. But my cock is so deep inside her that there's no denying that she's snug and tight in the most desirable place. She's squeezing groans from my chest, sweat from my skin, cum from my cock, and promises from my lips. I'd give her anything to let her keep riding me.

Her hands are on my bare chest, fingertips digging into me like they do around her bow. Pulling me back, taunt, until I let go and fly. My cum shooting like an arrow and overfilling her.

A string of vile curses burst from my lips as I open my eyes and angle my cocks right on time, spilling my seed all over the carpet.

Damn it. I liked that carpet.

"Elystia," I grow, my cocks still pulsing.

Even when she's not here, she causes trouble.

– • –

The headmistress visits me in the morning. I'm sitting behind my desk with a steaming cup of becca in my hand. Once the headmistress enters, I can't help but notice that she's so angry she's emitting her own steam.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" I ask, tempted to run a hand down my forearm—a gesture from my life at the palace that I can't shake off.

I take a sip of my calming tea. I've been overloaded with energy all night and day. Even after beating my cocks and working out in the training fields, I'm still cursed by the same dilemma.

"An entertainer came to me with an interesting order. Ancestors, I can't remember her name," she growls as she runs a hand through her braided hair. She seems to think otherwise when she touches the many hairpins in her updo and remembers the effort she put into her appearance.