I lounged on the silk-draped bed in the dim glow of Aether crystals, the sheer lingerie clinging to my softened curves like a second skin—black lace framing my flat chest, garters hugging hips that flared traitorously oga, the fabric damp where my pussy and cock leaked with insistent heat.
Nothing else mattered now; the duel’s eve demanded this desperate edge. A part of scread to stop—assassin’s pride recoiling at begging an alpha—but I had to. Elaine’s mark was my shield; her rut my trigger. No choice but to claim control first.
The door creaked open, and Elaine strode in—tall, broad-shouldered in her unbuttoned tunic, eyes widening in shock at the sight of splayed, legs parted shalessly.
"Your Highness... what the hell are you doing dressed like that?"
"You owe ," I said flatly, voice steady despite the throb low in my belly, silver hair loose and wild across the pillows.
She froze, gaze raking my exposed form, Adam’s apple bobbing. "Ah, I know our deal—heats, relief. But I don’t understand this... state." Her finger gestured vaguely at my spread thighs, slick glistening on lace.
"I’m seducing you, idiot." Blunt as a dagger thrust—no gas tonight.
Her cheeks flad red, alpha composure cracking. "Are you utterly shaless, Your Highness? Announcing it out loud like so brothel whore?!"
"I’ve stated my intentions clearly." I lunged, yanking her wrist to tumble her onto the bed.
She hit the sheets with a grunt; I straddled her hips, my smaller fra dwarfed by her towering build—her muscled chest heaving under , making feel fragile, prey-like despite the power shift.
"What are you doing?!" Elaine bucked once, hands gripping my thighs hard enough to bruise, but I pinned her shoulders, olive eyes locking hers.
"Payback—exactly what you did to , rut after rut." I kept the duel silent unless she pried; this was leverage, not confession. Her scent thickened—pine-smoke arousal warring with shock.
"You know we’re nominal spouses—transactional, nothing more!"
"True. But you don’t get to lecture. You’re the alpha; I’m the oga getting split on your cock. Society says submit—so tonight, we do this my way."
Magic humd at my fingertips—soul-weave cuffs snapping into silver chains, binding her wrists to the carved bedposts with a glowing clink. Unbreakable, keyed to my will alone.
"What the hell?! Your Highness—release now!" She strained, biceps bulging against the bonds, eyes flashing fury and sothing hotter.
"Shut up, Elaine." I leaned in, breath ghosting her ear, nails raking her tunic open to bare her chest. "Don’t forget: I’m at the disadvantage here. You’re entering with that massive dick—stretching, knotting. You’ll feel pleasure; I’ll feel the burn. So shut it and let take the reins. Unlike you, I won’t walk away unscathed."
She blushed deeper, sha flooding her face—eyes darting away, breath hitching as her cock twitched hard under breeches, tenting obviously. The mighty villainess, reduced to flushed submission.
"I’m sorry for hurting you last ti," Elaine murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, eyes flicking away in genuine sha as her bound wrists tugged futilely against the glowing chains.
"You knotted rcilessly—split open, pounding till I scread, pain burning worse than any blade," I hissed back, grinding down harder on her hips, feeling her cock throb insistently against my slick core through damp lace. My flat chest heaved with each breath, silver hair curtaining my glare. "Apology noted. Now take it like I did."
"Your Highness, I will not get hurt by this," Elaine protested, voice rough with strain, her bound wrists flexing against the glowing chains as her eyes locked on mine, a mix of defiance and reluctant heat. "You will—you’re the one taking , Oga body stretched and burning on my knot."
"Save the warnings for soone who cares," I snapped, nails digging into her bare chest, drawing thin red lines that made her hiss. My flat chest pressed against her, silver hair spilling wild as I rocked my hips, lace grinding her tented breeches.
I unzipped her pants, and her cock hit my cheek with smacking sound.
"Sorry..."
"Fuck you!"
My lips wrapped around the thick head of Elaine’s cock, the salty tang of her precum coating my tongue as I swirled it over the slit, drawing out a low, guttural groan from her throat.
Her hips jerked upward against the unyielding restraints, the silver chains clinking softly in the dim light of the Aether crystals embedded in the chamber walls.
Her bound hands clenched into fists above her head, knuckles whitening as she fought the bonds I’d woven with my magic—unbreakable, keyed only to my will.
"Your Highness... what are you—ah, fuck," Elaine rasped, her voice rough with a mix of shock and building desire, her pine-smoke scent flooding the air, thick and intoxicating.
It made my own cock strain against the damp lace of my lingerie, my pussy aching with slick heat that dripped down my thighs.
I didn’t answer with words. Instead, I hollowed my cheeks and sucked her deeper, bobbing my head with slow, deliberate strokes. Inch after inch of her massive length slid past my lips, stretching my jaw until the head bumped the back of my throat, triggering a gag that only made push further.
Saliva trailed down her veined shaft, glistening in the crystal glow, mixing with the beads of her arousal as I worked her relentlessly—sucking hard on the upstroke, then flicking my tongue along the sensitive underside on the down.
Her musk enveloped , that wild alpha aroma sharpening my senses, making my body thrum with need.
"Stop... this isn’t right," she protested weakly, but her body betrayed her, hips twitching as if begging for more. "You’re the oga. Let —"
I pulled off just enough to glare up at her, strings of drool connecting my swollen lips to her throbbing tip. "Shut your mouth, Elaine. You’ve had your turn rutting into like a beast. Now it’s mine."
"Your Highness, an oga’s duty is to—"
"Fuck your duty! Fuck you! I felt too much pain that day, okay? Look at you, there is not a single hint of pain on your face. Ecstasy and humiliation are the two things that you feel right now."
My voice ca out husky, edged with the pain of past mories—that night she’d knotted without rcy, splitting open until I scread.
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