Page 31 of What Fury Brings (Wrath and Fury #1)

“Good,” she echoed.

And then her finger dipped inside. He exhaled so sharply. Not because it hurt. She couldn’t have been deeper than a single knuckle, but his surprise was impossible to mask.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I thought you knew your body better than I did.” Her tone was self-important. He didn’t care for it.

“I think—”

Her finger slid in a little deeper, meeting the resistance of his internal muscles, but with the slick oil on her hand, she barely had to apply more pressure to break past it. The sensation was… not exactly comfortable.

He said in as calm a tone as possible, “Why is your finger in my ass?”

“You’re about to answer that question yourself.”

Just as he meant to demand she leave his ass alone, she curled her finger.

A burst of pleasure spread through him, cracking like a lightning bolt through his body. The sound he made was unintelligible, even to his own ears.

“There you go,” she said, and she made the motion again.

Gods, what was that? What sorcery was she performing back there? Was it magic oil? She placed her free hand on his hip to hold him steady, and then she found a slow rhythm.

“Fucking hell,” he panted, rocking backward on his toes to meet the thrusting of that finger.

“Are you enjoying yourself, Prince?” she asked him.

“Yes,” he mewled.

Her finger stopped.

“Yes, Olerra,” he corrected, and she continued once more.

He closed his eyes, and there was something about not seeing, only feeling, that made everything so much more erotic.

She kissed his back, nipping and licking where she could reach, never letting up with her finger.

She was so careful with him. She would hit that spot that made stars dance across his vision, and then she would retreat, hitting another area inside him.

She knew exactly what she was doing, and he did, too.

She was getting him as close to the edge as possible without letting him tip over.

“Please,” he said. “Olerra,” he tacked on belatedly.

“Would you like another finger?” she asked.

He swallowed, sweat trickling down his chest. He barely had to think over the question. “Yes, Olerra.”

Another finger joined the first, and the sensation was uncomfortable at first, until the doubled pressure hit that fucking spot again.

“Look at you,” she said. “All these beautiful muscles and pearly white skin. Oh, I wish you could see. I’m going to order a mirror brought into this room so the next time you’re a good boy you can see yourself riding my fingers.”

Gods but her words were filthy. They excited him to no end. The thought of next time was a sweet promise he intended to hold her to.

The pressure built and built, his cock beading with moisture. Just when he was close to something, she shifted her fingers.

“For gods’ sakes, Olerra!” he cried.

Her chuckle was sinful. “All right. I’ve had my fun. Let it out, Prince. Crane your neck toward me. I want to watch your face as you come.”

Her movements doubled, and every time her fingers slid inside, they brushed that spot that made him wild. It felt like dying until it felt like being born again. Getting a deep breath of air after spending an eternity of drowning.

His eyes met hers, his neck craned as far as it would go. He didn’t mean to, but it was her name he cried when he came, spilling his seed on the floor in front of him.

She leaned her forehead against his back, and the two of them stood still. He was catching his breath, and he suspected she was calming herself.

Olerra stepped away, and he felt the loss of her touch more strongly than he expected. When she returned, she stood before him holding a wet rag.

She cleaned her fingers and his cock before taking a separate rag to the floor. Then she leaned against the wall opposite him, drinking in the sight of him hanging, sweat-soaked and satisfied.

She cocked her head to the side. “Does the prince of Brutus like to be fucked in the ass by his woman?”

He didn’t know what she saw in his eyes. Was it hatred? Was it pleasure? The two were so tied together he didn’t know anymore.

He looked at the discarded rag, the evidence of his pleasure.

“I want to hear you say it,” she insisted.

“Why? So you can say I told you so?”

“No, Prince. It will only make me burn hotter for you. As soon as I leave you, I will take my satisfaction in my own room. I will think about the noises you just made while I touch myself. Would you like to hear me? I can be extra loud so you know exactly what’s happening.”

Impossibly, his cock twitched.

She grinned.

“What was in that oil?” he asked.

She rolled her eyes. “That’s what you think brought you pleasure?” She stepped forward. “No, Prince. That was my fingers, touching the part inside you that brings immense pleasure. Make me proud, and I’ll do it again for you.”

Gods, but he wanted that. He shouldn’t want that. He should want to kill her. Instead, he found himself fantasizing about what she looked like naked and spread before him.

She pulled the lever that summoned the servants before leaving him chained up. When the eunuchs let him down, they attached him to the bed for the night.

Now that he had some distance from her, he could think clearly again.

As he remembered the feel of her inside him, he knew that he couldn’t let that happen again.

He didn’t need it again. He’d used her for pleasure, though it felt like she had used him.

Still, he should be done now. Ready to move on.

But with his body still vibrating from the best orgasm he had ever experienced, he could only imagine what it would be like between them if he were the one inside her.

He needed to get out before she could ensorcell him again.