Page 54 of Cruelest Kiss and Fairest Blood (Tales So Wicked #2)

“Good. Maybe I’ll leave him like that. It will help dissuade you from putting it in your mouth again.”

I scoff. “I never put it in my mouth.” Which Harrow knows, since he was in my memories.

“Is that so? Is the princess too high and mighty to sink to her knees for a man?”

The question is not about Cassius. Harrow is baiting me.

I take a few seconds to decide how I want to handle this encounter.

Cowering like I did for Cassius, or strong, the way Harrow makes me feel when I’m with him.

The butterflies swarming my stomach disintegrate as I step into my power and rise to his challenge.

“I’ve never claimed such a thing.”

“No? I’ve never seen you on your knees. Not even for precious Prince Cassius. How am I to believe it’s true? Princesses only seem to know how to take.”

His words make something snap within me.

I’ve been tossed around, tortured, and treated like a doll for far too long.

The meek girl who hides alone in gardens, who blushes when any pair of eyes find hers, who shivers and cries and hides, she’s asleep in a faraway castle.

The girl who entered and survived the in-between is brave, strong, and curious.

A side I much prefer. A side I’ll be leaning into from now on.

Rolling my shoulders back, I push up against him, batting my eyes. “What makes you think you’re worthy of my royal mouth on your monstrous cock?”

Harrow lowers his face until our mouths are a breath apart. “Have I not eaten your royal cunt until you screamed? Fucked you with my mouth until the sheets were soaked and your body fell limp? I’d like to think that makes me worthy of knowing the pleasures of your mouth in return.”

Fuck . His words have me embarrassingly wet. That filthy mouth strips me of my power in seconds.

Without another word, I lower to my knees. I’m not experienced with this. Instead of asking for pointers like some innocent virgin, I decide to explore him. Hopefully his reactions will give me insight into what he likes.

The weight of his cock in my hands is thrilling.

I take stock of him, really looking. Precum beads along the bluish tip.

Using my thumb, I swipe it, sliding the pad to where the underside of his head meets his shaft.

Harrow’s groan has my thighs tensing. I guess that spot feels pretty good.

More precum spills out. I spread it down his shaft, twisting my hands in a corkscrew motion.

His hips shift. That must feel good too.

One of Harrow’s hands threads my hair and I’m reminded why I’m really down here.

A deep breath helps to settle my nerves.

My lips wrap around his swollen head. I already have to stretch and I’ve barely taken any of him in.

Tightening my lips, I slide a few inches further.

His cock hits my throat and I gag loudly.

“If you cannot take me deeply then focus on the head with your mouth. Use your hands on the shaft.” His instruction is extremely helpful. I’m able to breathe again as I focus on licking and sucking his head, making sure to give extra attention to that sensitive spot on the underside.

My hands grip his shaft, which seems to be growing longer by the minute. Spit gives me lubrication enough to twist my hands up and down, meeting my mouth and then sliding down to the base.

Harrow groans, teaching me his likes and dislikes. My mouth is not conditioned for this. The muscles in my cheeks and jaw burn. Even the back of my tongue aches from swirling it below his tip. How embarrassing. When he goes down on me, he barely even comes up for air.

He must sense my fatigue. His hips start to move.

Small forward motions at first. As he moves closer to climax, his hips shift harder.

My scalp burns when his hand fists my hair.

I can’t keep up with his movements. Instead I focus on sucking, letting his cock slide in and out of the tight ring of my mouth.

His broken moan tells me this is exactly what he wants.

My composure slips when his thrusts grow harder, triggering my gag reflex.

“You have to breathe, Roseheart. Through the nose.” Harrow’s voice is tight but instructive.

I do as he says, breathing through the nose.

It does nothing to lessen my continuous gagging.

Harrow pulls back, his movements more shallow.

He’s backing off because I couldn’t handle it.

Why the hell do I keep gagging? He’s able to give me absurd amounts of pleasure and here I am threatening to retch all over him.

“You’re doing great. That pretty mouth is taking me so well.

I’m not going to last much longer.” His praise sails me away from my thoughts of inadequacy and back into a place of curious determination.

I suck the few inches he’s giving me until my cheeks hollow around him.

I’m rewarded with the tensing of his muscles as he peaks.

I’m thoroughly unprepared for the hard thrust when his climax hits. The first trace of cum hits the back of my throat. Swallow it, Lenore. That’s what guys want . The thick, salty substance spurts inside and I violently gag.

Breathe through the nose, breathe through the nose .

I gag again, attempting to swallow his spend.

“Let it out, Roseheart. This should be pleasurable for the both of us. Don’t do anything that doesn’t feel good.

” His words are strained but honest as he continues to find his release.

I stop trying to swallow. Instead, I enjoy the feeling of those hot ropes spilling into me, then let them fall out when he pulls his shaft back before the next thrust. It feels powerful to know I brought him to this place.

Harrow doesn’t seem to mind that I’m unable to swallow it all.

He continues to pummel into my mouth, letting the cum run back down his shaft and drip from his balls.

My jaw is aching and eager to go slack by the time he slows. There’s a wet pop when he uses the hand in my hair to guide my mouth off of him.

“You did so good.” He wipes his thumb across my cum-coated chin. “It’s too bad Cassius didn’t get the chance to experience that for himself.”

Mentioning Cassius throws my defenses back up. “Don’t use him against me.”

Harrow smirks. “How wet are you, little raven?”

I’ve been naked with this man for hours at a time. I’ve let him put his tongue inside me. I let his seed fill my mouth and still the directness of his questions make me blush. “Dripping.”

“Was it my cock in your throat or the memory of your cunt around Cassius’s dick?”

“I already told you?—”

His hand grips my jaw. “What you desired of him was beastly. Is that what you wanted? Something inhuman? I can give you the monster again. All you have to do is ask.”

This Cassius situation and Harrow continuing to bring it up has me frustrated and flustered.

I want to tell him that it’s my body and I am free to use it how I like.

Instead, his dominant and antagonistic actions only turn me on more.

He knows how to slink beneath my skin and push every button.

How is it I’ve been so fully seduced? I’ll do anything when it comes to Harrow.

He’s right. I have been craving his less-human side.

Fucking Cassius didn’t leave me satisfied.

“Can I have your monster?” I begin to rise. Harrow pushes me back down. My knees slam against the floor.

“I’ve changed my mind. I want you to beg . Beg me to ravage you in my monster form. Beg me to break you, like you begged him.” Gone is the tone of praise.

“Fuck you,” I bite back. “You want to humiliate me?”

“Was it humiliating to let a human fuck you until you cried? Were you satisfied with his mortal tricks after being taken by an immortal?”

“You know I wasn’t.”

“I won’t know anything if you don’t use your words.”

Hate boils within me. Hate for this conversation. Even more hate for the way my pussy is practically weeping for Harrow. I don’t want to admit there’s a side of me that’s loving this interaction.

“He left me unsatisfied?—”

“But you came.” Bastard. He wants me to use my words and he won’t even let me finish speaking.

“I came but it wasn’t like when I was with you. Cassius doesn’t know my body the same way. I came but I wished it was you fucking me, breaking me.”

“I don’t believe you. I saw what happened.”

“You saw it but you weren’t there. Please, Harrow. For fuck’s sake, give me your monster. You toyed with me in the labyrinth, promising to finish what you started. You still haven’t given me your monster. Are you afraid to follow through?”

“Lenore.” My name comes out as a warning.

I grip his thighs, staring up. “Please give me your monster. Take me, break me. Show me the things Cassius could never dream of doing to a woman like me.”

Harrow grins, satisfied. His smile is the first thing to change.

It consumes his face, growing impossibly wide as his fangs fill the new space.

Ink stains his hands and feet next, spreading upward and covering his arms and legs in a swirling darkness.

Talons tear forth, leaving deep scratches in the wood floor.

The silver of his eyes and white of his hair both fall prey to a pitch black that matches his wings.

Feathers sprout from his arms and face. Like this, he barely fits in the cabin.

The wind rushes from my lungs when Harrow snatches me up.

“You asked him to break you.” Harrow pins me to the wall. “He thought that meant he should make you cry. I’ll show you what it means to break. You’ll shatter for me. Shatter with pleasure so intense you’ll lose sight of everything but the feeling of my cock splitting you open.”

Harrow