Page 169

Story: Princes of Chaos

Reluctantly, I gather his cum to the part of my lips and push it into his warm, waiting mouth. Pace sucks it off my tongue as his cock empties another hot surge of his seed into me. It’s not so strange anymore, the thought of how much cum he puts into me. If anything, it’s almost beginning to make a certain kind of sense.

Pace keeps so much locked away.

When his hand dips between us, finding my clit and rolling it around, I’m confused. Lost. Suspicious. And then, I remember that I gave in.

I said the words.

Locking gazes with me, Pace brings me ruthlessly, brutally to the edge. Even when I whimper, turning away, he wrenches me back, cock twitching with another fresh round of his load.

That must be why it explodes inside of me like a nuclear bomb, my mouth falling open on a shocked cry as I spiral, spinning out.

Even after I float back down, he’s still pumping the last of his seed inside.

Rolling off, he moves between my legs, scooping up the semen that drips out and pushing it back in. He’s focused and intent, only stopping when he’s satisfied. I’m not even surprised when he spreads my folds, purses his lips, and spits. He aims what I’d given him from my mouth right into my entrance, clamping down hard on my thighs when I flinch.

Looking up at me, he uses two fingers to push it in. “One day I’ll come so hard in your mouth, it’ll rattle your teeth, Rosi.” He spits another glob of cum and spit onto my pussy. “But not just yet.”

There was a time, not too long ago, where such an act would have been the height of humiliation for me.

Now, I just lay there, boneless.

Submissive.

I blink when he reaches into his pocket, pulling out something foreign and metallic.Golden. “Don’t move,” he quietly commands, still kneeling between my spread thighs as he slowly begins the long slide of his cock from my body.

I feel slight pressure at my entrance as he pushes the strange, small, flared object close, his dark eyes fixed to where we’re connected.

I wince at the stretch. “What’s–what’s that?”

He pushes me back down when I rise up, keeping my thighs wide. “It’s a plug.” Before I can ask what that means, he acts swiftly. The loss of Pace exiting me is replaced with a sudden, thick fullness, the object slotting inside.

I whimper, pushing against it. “A what?”

He holds my legs open, heedless of my struggle to close them. “To keep my cum inside,” he explains, some of that dazed horniness returning to his eyes as he watches me flutter around it. “You’re to keep it inside you until one of us takes it out.”

“But—” Abruptly, he grabs me by the hips and drags me to the top of the bed, settling us into the pillows. My heart thrums as he methodically undresses himself, both from the orgasms and the weird feeling in my vagina, only adding to the sensation of my body barely feeling like my own. It’s not until he settles, hand flattering over my belly, strong and wide, that I realize how close we are.

“Can you feel it?” he asks, skating his fingers just above my pubic bone. “Can you feel all my cum in there?”

Shifting uncomfortably, I answer with a weak, “Yes.” It’s a slick, unavoidable fullness, my body filled with the urge to push it out.

After a long beat, he asks, “Has anyone told you about this bed?”

I shake my head, breathing hard against the instinct to pull the plug out. “No.”

Pace hums. “It’s considered good luck. It’s where the first Princess conceived.”

Tipping my head back, I glance at the headboard above us. I hadn’t really thought about it before, butdamn, this bed has probably seen some fucked up shit.

Pace reaches over his head, drawing my eyes to his defined biceps, and runs his fingers along the engraved, bejeweled crown in the center of the headboard. “Each one of these jewels signals a pregnancy.”

My eyes flick to the thatch of tattoos on his forearm. “A tally.”

He laughs and rests his hand back on my stomach, his spent dick flopped over his hip. “Yeah, that works. Father does love to keep score. I should have taken you in here earlier,” he says, pushing his hand between my legs. With two fingers, he gives the base of the plug a small, testing nudge. “Used the luck of this place to secure the deposit.”

I squirm against the sensation of being stuffed too full, feeling a pang in my chest. I’d lied to Pace before. If there’s a weird desire for creation to happen, it’s belied by the knowledge that Pace isn’t the father I’d ever want for a child. He’s unstable. Violent. Codependent. If he ever had a kid, he’d probably lock it up, hold it hostage from the world, allow his paranoia to take over.

Just like Effie.

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