THE DARK SUN UPON A BRIGHT STARV
etta spent half of the night reminiscing about their days in captivity. It put the king on edge, and as hours passed, he was tense, like a coiled snake waiting to snap.
It was exactly what Vetta wanted. Why would he want to forget what they’d been through? Why would he try to forget what shaped him into the man he is now?
Vetta took her fertility pills around midnight, the body-weakening pills already wearing off like the healer told her. An hour after taking her pills, she was horny as hell and ready to have the king to herself.
He was lying behind her, tense and ready to sleep. But he had always been a man who sleep did not favor, so she knew he was awake even when he had been silent.
She turned towards him and reached boldly for him. She did not think it was possible for him to get any more tense, but he did when she placed a hand on his chest.
“Not tonight, Vetta.” she felt the vibration of his deep groan.
“I need you, my king. I need you so much,” she whispered, untying his rope.
His hand stopped hers. Blue eyes like bottomless pits of hell met her face. “You are sick. You do not need this.”
“Yes, I do. Please. It’s been so long. Danika came along, and you no longer want me. You treat me like I’m dirty, like you no longer want me. It pains me,” she said with tears.
“Vetta---”
She rose from the bed and pulled off her clothes. She’d prepared for this night, so she wasn’t wearing much. Sitting up naked beside him, she shook her head miserably. “I am your mistress, my king. I feel like I’m no longer good enough for you, maybe because I wasn’t born with royal blood. Maybe because you have forgotten everything we’ve been through. Maybe you glance at me and remember filth.” Tears filled her eyes, and she sniffled. “The same filth King Cone created when he raped my mind and my body right in front of you.”
King Lucien slid his eyes closed; the memory made his heart—which was warm earlier in the day—go cold.
“He dropped a streak. Wanted me to crawl on my hands and knees and eat it out straight from the ground with my mouth. Like a dog.” He remembered the event.
“Something so utterly degrading for you,” she whispered.
His head moved in a nod. “I would not do it, so he starved me for three days. Came back afterward to force such humiliation again in front of twelve slaves. He raped you brutally right in front of me because I would not do it.”
She closed her eyes at the shameful remembrance. She didn’t have to fake the tears; they came all on their own.
“I can still remember it like yesterday. Your screams. The blood. I will never forget, Vetta. There are some things that can never be forgotten,” he breathed.
“Those memories stayed with me,” she admitted, her hand on his chest again. “When you keep me so far away like you have done these past few weeks, I cannot help but feel dirty. That you do not want me anymore.”
He rose and palmed her cheek. “That is untrue. I do want you. And about your past, they do not define you, Vetta. What defines you is your present and your future.”
She lowered her head then and kissed his lips. His hand on her waist tightened. A small reaction, but with the king, intimacy did not get much bigger. She pulled back and sniffled. “See. I repulse you. You can’t even bear to kiss me, but you do so with Danika. All the time. She was the princess. The Untouched. The Unraped. The Pure. The innocent. And I am just dirt.”
“I do not kiss Danika for those reasons, Vetta,” he said at her miserable cry. “And you are not dirt. I dislike such an assessment. If being battered makes you dirty, then I would be mud.”
“Then kiss me. Take me to bed, just like old times. I crave it: the pain, the pleasure, the pressure, everything. I crave you.” At that whisper, she kissed him again.
He remained unresponsive for a few seconds. Then he took over. Kissing her, he undressed. Naked like she was, she wet her hand with the lube on the table before touching his phallus. She took hold of his length and stroked him to arousal.
They laid on their sides, with her back to him. Raising her leg, she moaned when he pushed into her to the hilt. His thrusts were restrained and controlled, as if his body was with her, but his mind wasn’t.
She reached behind him and circled his neck, arching her back to push him deeper into her. “Let go,” she moaned. “Let me have the man that has fucked me for over five years. The pain, pleasure, the animalism. I want it all.”
It reminded him of that day he was overwhelmed, and he lost all control with Danika. He had taken sexual pleasures so unrestrained from his mistress before—but he had not lost the real control with her.
“Be careful what you wish for,” he grated out.
“I know you want it too,” she persisted, rotating her hips on his in a way she knew he enjoyed. He emitted a low groan. She continued. “That man will always be in you. The one who loves to inflict pain and pleasure at the same time. I don’t cave in the face of pain, and you know it. It is one thing Danika can never give you.”
“Do not pretend you know her. You do not.”
“I know her likes.” Swiveling her head to watch him over her shoulders, she panted. “Would she want you to yank on her hair as you fuck her hard enough to hurt? Would she want you to bite on her neck hard enough to leave a mark? Pinch on her nipple hard, not to pleasure but to hurt?” Her voice lowered more to an octave. “Would she let you take her in the ass?”
“Vetta—”
“She would not want to. She can’t. You know it and I know it.” Her pants increased, and so did his thrusts. “She c-can never sate that broken man in you. The monster her father created.” Her eyes glazed over as she pushed down on him over and over again. “I want that monster. I can feed him. You know I can…”
His erratic breathing was all that met her word