The Alpha King Marked Me. I Still Haven't Told Him I'm A Girl-Chapter 164: XVI

Valka

I straddle him, cage him between my thighs and sit straight as I disrobe. His eyes are near glassy as he watches me pull at the ropes.

The silk gives around my skin and it falls open, revealing my red chemise.

Lucien swallows, his gaze burning a line of heat along my neck, down to my nipples poking through the soft material. His fingers twitch on my waist but he keeps them there.

I reach for the hem of my gown and take it over my head. It lands in a pile somewhere on the ground behind me.

Leaning forward, I place a palm over his heart. It’s racing. It always races for me. It’ll never stop racing for me. And I bring my lips so close to his, I can taste the sweet mint of his breath. "For your eyes alone, sire."

His eyes flash with dark amusement, his mouth curving into a small smile as I straighten, purposely letting my pussy rest against his groin.

I reach up into my hair and run my fingers through the strands it a little dance I might have found silly if Lucien’s eyes weren’t already on fire. I let my head drop back, arching my spine so that it leaves him with a spectacular view of my breasts.

My fingers run down my neck slowly, circling lightly then tightening until I let out a small whimper, like the thought of being choked by him makes me wet.

It does. I can already feel the heat gathering between my legs, trickling down to his own skin.

Further down, my hand travels until I am cupping my breasts and pressing them together. I lower my head then and find Lucien’s eyes dark, his pupils blown wide.

I lick my lips, then I bite them as I squeeze tightly on each nipple, giving them all of my care and love and attention, in the same manner Lucien normally would.

"Valka," he says, voice strained.

I feel his cock throbbing, twitching impatiently as it swells and tents harder, pressing hard against my inner thighs like it is merely making a demand that I make way for him.

"If you keep teasing me like that, I just might impregnate you again."

It is a rather valid threat, but I’m past the point of caring if I having his seeds pumped into my very blood stream. My blood pounds viciously in my ears and I can’t hear a single thing past the pressure gathering between my legs, begging for more. So much more.

With one hand, I hold both breasts together and trail a line down my stomach, down the apex of my thigh and I brush aside his cock, burying my middle finger inside me.

I gasp. He groans, shifting to accomodate me. I’m so wet, the impact makes a wet slurpy sound and my finger falls out by itself. Again, I plunge my finger into my core and curl.

White explodes behind my eyes and I let out a dark moan.

Lucien could easily overpower me like this, but I know he won’t. For one, he loves to watch me do this to myself, to bring myself to the very edge of that precipise. That edge where fingers feel inadequate, where the emptiness throbs in my core, begging for friction and pressure.

He snatches my wrists and pulls them far away from my body. And in a split second, I find myself underneath him, the delicious weight of his body pinning me down and my wrists trapped above my head.

"You fucking tease," he cusses, settling himself between my legs, nestling closer until the thick ridge of him is lined deliciously against my center.

I giggle and wink at him.

His response is pushing in an inch. The burn is ecstatic. I gasp and he slaps his hand over my mouth, pressing my teeth against my lip as he pushes in another veined inch.

I let out a muffled cry, eyes rolling back in my head. He leans back on his haunches to watch himself ease back in and out of me with that rapt fascination you would have thought he’d have gotten weary of in the last few years, but it’s the same every time.

Pushing back against him earns me a thrust so deep, I’ll feel the ache for days.

Sweat runs rivulets down his skin. He raises my legs at some point, tossing it over his shoulder. His hand leaves my mouth and I scream into the pillow instead as he sculpts up my ass and angles himself even deeper.

My legs turn to jelly, my heart as full as my insides. The bed creaks and shudders, the wood in Voss weak and hardly built to take the weight and pressure of us.

He nips my neck, his voice rumbling thickly against my skin. "I love you."

I turn my lips to his ear, kissing the sharp tip. "That’s just your cock speaking."

I feel him smile against my neck. "Smart fucking mouth." And then, he kisses me hard, groans into my mouth and fucks me slowly.

My hands travel down his back, infatuated with the feel of him, the smell, the strength of him. I could never get enough of him, even if I wanted to. And I didn’t. If we didn’t have duties, I would be more than pleased to being tucked away safely with him, doing nothing but breathing the same air he did.

It was fucking wrong, but there were days I wondered we were both terrible people for being more obsessed with each other than we were with anyone else.

We love our children, would live or die for them without thinking, without hesitation, but it felt like we’d built a cocoon around each other and our children were an addition to it. Lucien thought it was because we’d spent centuries with each other. In the first few months, it had, in fact, been difficult, having to relearn to share me with other people. Even if they were our children.

He was always the more expressive one, so I never had to let on that I felt the same way every time he had to drag himself out of bed.

I felt like I did back when we were in the mountains and I was on heat. I felt clingy and desperate to keep him close for even a second longer.

It was unhealthy, Margot once said, our fixation with each other. I politely thought she could go fuck herself. We’d been through enough shit to ’not be fixated on each other’.

My legs wrap around his hip tightly and a sigh escapes me when he sucks my nipples into his mouth. The word becomes a blur of skin slapping against skin. The scent of man and sweat and hard, soft sex. The nip of teeth and flick of tongue. The scrape of nails and jamming of his cock up against my womb.

I come apart underneath him in a soft exhale that carries too close to a ragged cry. He gasps, his body stilling inside me as I feel the hot spurts against my insides, like a hot shower on a cold night. My inner walls contract around each drop of semen, milking it out of him until he groans, collapsing against me.

His head remains against my chest, his silky tresses tickling my skin fondly. He is still hard inside me. Still ready, never quite finished.

I run my fingers through his hair as we both pant and his arms form around me in a half hug as he leans closer like he’s an infant, pressing his cheeks against my breasts. "No wonder Tristan enjoys it so much."

"You’re too old to be competing with your sons," I muse.

"Who says?" He raises his fingers to the light, wiggling them. "For a while, I wondered when I’d expire. If it’d start slowly. Or if the weight of it would hit all at once. Maybe it’d begin with back aches. And then, fallen teeth. Or wrinkles. Or maybe I’ll go bald first."

I laugh. "I’d really love to see that one."

He half-heartedly glares at me and sighs, like the weight of the world is on his shoulders. "I’ve decided to stick around for an eternity merely out of spite. I’m going to be so fucking overbearing and selfish with you."

I blink. "Worse than you already are?"

Just then, the doors to our chambers swing open and Evadne storms in, unbothered that Lucien and I are naked as we were born. Lucien growls in annoyance, throwing the sheets over my skin, but he doesn’t at all bother with his nakedness.

At this point, Evadne seems to lack a sense of privacy. I can no longer count on both hands the amount of times she’s walked in on us being intimate. One time, Lucien and I got creative with the training halls in the castle, and she had walked in on my weight being suspended from the ceilings, my legs spread far apart as he ate me out to a damn near state of unconsciousness.

She simply took the position closest to us when Lucien ordered her to get the fuck out, and said, "The castle is a public space. You can’t evict me just because. And please, don’t stop on my account."

But now, her face is blotched red, her eyes bloodshot, and I sit up, holding the sheet to my chest. "What’s wrong?"

Her lips shake once, but her eyes remain clear. "Astrea’s... dead."