I turn my head away, closing my eyes and frantically thinking of what to do, but before I can, he presses the tip of the dildo against my panty covered pussy. I’m so hot and wet that the cold transfers immediately through the material of my panties, making me jump. “Not inside me, please,” I say quickly.
He pauses, and I think he’s going to ask why or tell me I don’t get to make demands, but he doesn’t. He just resumes rubbing the frozen object against my panties, making me shiver with pleasure and cold. “As you wish,” he says.
Relief floods me. Maybe I can still enjoy the demanding, domineering side of him and still feel safe. For what seems like the first time in my life, someone has put my happiness before their own, and it’s an amazing feeling. It might still be beyond crazy that I’m in the dungeon in a hidden kingdom with a prince behind me whose holding a frozen dildo, but hey, I always wished for something different, and it doesn’t get much more different than this.
I hear him pull something from his pocket and a second later he’s tying a black cloth over my eyes. His strong hand presses between my shoulder blades, encouraging me to lay my torso against the stone floor.
“Put your hands behind your back,” he commands. He engulfs my wrists, turning them so my hands are palm to palm. The angle arches my back, causing my nipples to rub against the floor sending shards of pleasure through me. He ties something soft around my wrists, tight enough that I can’t escape, but not so tight as to hurt. “It’s time for your punishment. You need to cum before the cold becomes too intense, so don’t hold back, Princess.”
With my vision taken away, my world is sensation and sound. I feel the icy touch of the dildo against my pussy, making my panties even more wet as he drags a path of pleasure between my legs. I want his lips on me, his skin on my skin, but he doesn’t give me that. He only gives me the frozen touch of the dildo, and while it’s not what I want, I know it’s his hand that holds it and his mind willing me to climax, which ignites a tingling sensation in my belly that swirls through my body, making my hairs stand on end and goosebumps appear on my skin.
Just when the cold is almost too much to handle and the pleasure starts to fade into discomfort and pain, the warmth of his fingers against my hip hits me like an explosion. Even the innocent touch feels magnified into something sensual and reactive after the ice cold touch between my legs. Then he hooks his hand around the waistband of my panties and yanks hard. The elastic waistband pops and he tears the panties away, leaving me shuddering.
Jesus. Roark isn’t like the men I’ve known. He doesn’t hesitate or do anything in half-measures. It’s full-speed, maximum intensity with him. There’s a vulnerability and a blinding kind of excitement to having a man like that completely focused on me, like being on a rollercoaster and not being able to see the tracks, just knowing the wind is rushing in my face and ears and we’re not slowing down.
He gives my ass a quick slap that makes me jump. The sound rings out like a firecracker going off.
“Ow!” I say a little crossly.
“Say what you want,” he growls. “Unless it’s the safe word, your punishment isn’t finished, Princess.”
I squeeze my hands together, mostly because the way my wrists are tied gives me nothing else to hold on to--and right now I feel like I need to hold on to something as tight as I can.
He slides the icy member between my legs again and my mouth falls open in a silent gasp of surprise. The few moments of warmth from his hands make the ice feel even colder now, but the way he’s moving it, sliding it across me and using the head of the dildo to massage my clit… It’s almost enough to make me forget the cold. Instead, the discomfort and pleasure swirl together in a confusing storm I don’t want to end. Each time my pleasure nearly reaches a breaking point, the discomfort from the cold overcomes everything else and pushes down the climax that’s waiting to explode.
“You’re doing well, Princess. You’ve earned a reward, but only a temporary one.”
I’m about to turn and ask him what kind of reward I’ve earned when I feel heat between my legs that’s so blissfully good it nearly takes my knees out from under me. It isn’t long before I realize what is so wonderfully warm.
It’s his mouth. Prince Roark’s mouth. On my pussy. His tongue, swirling inside my entrance.
The climax that has been struggling to erupt comes roaring to the brink now. My body quivers in anticipation and I know it’s going to happen, but then it’s gone. The soft kisses, the gentle warmth of his tongue sliding between my folds and exploring every inch of me, the way his strong hands gripped my ass as he buried his face in my most private place… It’s gone, and the absence is nearly enough to take the breath from me.
“You didn’t think you would get to cum before you’ve finished your punishment. Did you?”
“No,” I say.
“You’ll address me properly, as your prince.”
“No, Prince,” I say, feeling my skin tingle at the submissiveness in the phrase.
“Now, you’ll cum this time. If I have to give you another break, there will be more consequences.”
I nod my head, still blindfolded and feeling dizzy from the overwhelming emotions I’ve experienced since stepping into this room.
The icy dildo presses against me again, and it’s as if every near-orgasm I’ve had has built up and formed something frighteningly powerful inside me, like a white light that is about to burst free at any moment. I grind myself shamelessly into him, completely forgetting to be embarrassed of how exposed I am or the moans spilling from my lips.
“Oh God,” I gasp.
The pleasure mounts but so does the pain of contact with the ice. My skin begins to numb, but the pleasure is so intense now that it runs deeper than the surface of my skin and I still feel something growing ever stronger deep in my belly.
His strong hand slips around my neck, putting pressure on my throat until I have to strain to breathe. The word “Red” starts to bounce around in my mind, and I nearly say it as my breaths grow more and more shallow and the intensity of the ice against my bare pussy starts to feel like hot, unbearable pain.
Roark leans over me from behind, still working the dildo against me and gripping my throat. “You’re strong, Princess. Cum for me. Fucking cum all over this dildo and scream for me. Take the pain and make it your pleasure. Use every bit of it.”
The sound of his voice is an anchor for me, something to focus on as my world dissolves into a storm of indescribable pleasure and pain. As if his words unlock something deep inside me, all the sensations blur together into an experience of pure, unadulterated pleasure that explodes through me and unleashes an orgasm that dwarfs anything I’ve ever felt.
My knees slide out from under me and collapse to the ground, shuddering from the strength of my orgasm. Wave after wave of pleasure rips through me. It’s almost too much, but Roark’s warm hands soothe me, rubbing over my skin, providing comfort, grounding me in the here and now. He releases my hands and rubs them gently to ensure they aren’t harmed.
When he finally removes the blindfold, I roll over and sit up. I’m covered in sweat and feel like I just ran a marathon. I look to Roark, who watches me proudly, as if I’ve done everything he hoped and more. Maybe it’s stupid, but his pride in me makes me glow. It makes me want to do more, to please him again. To even go above and beyond what he thinks I can do for him.
10
Roark
It has been four days since I was with Elizabeth in the dungeon. One of the only reasons I dragged myself to the royal ball tonight was in hopes of seeing her. All around me, men and women mingle, laughing too hard at jokes that aren’t funny enough and drinking too much wine. Everyone is dressed to impress, and even I had my tailors touch up one of my nicer suits for tonight--a black jacket with gold trim and a coal gray undershirt. I normally don’t concern myself too much with how I look, but I knew Elizabeth would be here--not that I’d admit this, even under torture, but I want to look good for her
.
I still marvel at how sated the darkness within me is since our time together. In all my adult life, I haven’t gone this many days without some sort of violence to push it back, yet here I am after four days of nothing even close to violence, and all I feel is the growing lust for my Princess to be under my power again. This innocent woman from the outside may be the cure for my curse. I may be able to steal a taste of her here and there, but ultimately she’s out of reach. Centuries of tradition and an entire kingdom stand between Elizabeth and I, yet I’m not ready to give up on her yet.
She fascinates me in a way no woman ever has. Even though I could tell how badly she wanted to fuck me in the dungeon, she was prepared to resist me. I had to convince her that the promise made by her parents isn’t her promise. In a way, I feel guilty that I persuaded her into giving in to our desires, but I shouldn’t. I meant everything I said. As much as I appreciate her loyalty to honor what was promised, I know Titus will make her miserable.
A few weeks ago I might have thought the same of myself, but she brings something out of me. I’ve only felt the first hints of it because our time together has been so fleeting, but I think she could make me into something better, something more. I know one thing. I would never hurt her, at least not in any meaningful way. Any pain from my hand will be with the sole intention of making my Princess cum harder than she ever has before, I can’t say the same for my brother.
I smirk, feeling my cock stiffen at the idea of having her again. There’s so much I still want to do to her, but I suspect she’s a virgin. My brother and his people kept very close tabs on her throughout her life, and if she did have sex at some point, it would come as a great surprise to me. When she asked me not to penetrate her with the frozen cock the other night, my suspicion of her virginity grew. After all, what woman would want her first penetration to be with a frozen dildo?
“What has you so amused?” asks Dirk, who I didn’t even see moving to my side. He wears his Blade on proud display. The chrome of his weapon is polished to a mirror finish and his jacket carefully positioned behind the weapon to avoid concealing it.
My own Blade is concealed. As a Prince, I have no need to boast about my social status by flaunting my weapon. It’s not a symbol to me like it is to some. It’s just a weapon--one I hope to need less with Elizabeth in my life. “Nothing,” I say.
“If only nothing could amuse me so much, I would be a happy man,” muses Dirk.
I glare at him. “Why is it that you talk to me like your equal?”
“You’ve never told me not to. Would you like me to bow and scrape for you, My Prince?”
“No,” I say sourly. “I just think you’re an asshole.”
“That’s why we get along so well. You’re an even bigger prick than I am.”
“I may have a bigger prick, but that doesn’t make me one.”
Dirk sputters his wine, grinning. “I didn’t realize you were taking measurements in the bath houses. I would’ve made sure I came aroused.”
I want to be annoyed with him, but can’t manage, so I crack a smile. “You didn’t know I was measuring? I’d think you would’ve noticed the magnifying glass.”
Dirk barks a laugh. “Now you know I don’t treat you like anyone else, because you’re the only man I’d let get away with that joke.”
“Speaking of tiny pricks, have you seen my brother?” I ask.
Dirk gestures with his wine glass toward the far end of the ballroom. Titus stands in a large group of mostly women who are laughing at some story he’s telling. I spot Elizabeth among them, looking absolutely breathtaking in a sea-green gown that has a neckline leaving little to the imagination. Knowing she’s used to more conservative clothing makes the dress even sexier somehow. I’d wager no man has ever laid eyes on those heavy tits of hers, and call me barbaric, but I’ve always been drawn to the idea of exploring the unexplored. I suddenly regret not having her remove her bra for me back in the dungeon. I was so busy admiring everything else, I forgot I might never get a chance to take her again. If I have to die without having seen those tits… fuck.
I nod my farewell to Dirk and move toward Elizabeth’s group, intending to find a way to separate her from the crowd, but instead I nearly run over my mother, who places herself directly in front of me. Relatively puffy dresses are in style with the women of the Shrouded Kingdom, but my mother’s dress pushes the boundaries with balls of fabric so large at her shoulders they nearly tower over her head. The rest of the dress hugs her small but severe frame. She was always accounted as one of the most beautiful women in all of the Shrouded Kingdoms, but I can only see the venom when I look at her.
“Mother,” I say, trying to step past her.
She looks up at me with pursed lips. “You need to come with me.”
I look once more toward Elizabeth. She’s watching me, but turns away when I notice her. I motion for my mother to lead the way. She guides me out of the main ballroom to one of the side chambers reserved for guests, closing the door behind us once we’re inside.
“I’ve heard whispers,” she says, pacing around the room without taking her bulging eyes from me.
“You can afford a psychiatrist. Why are you talking to me about this,” I say dryly.
She advances on me, pressing a well-manicured finger up to my throat like a dagger. “Don’t fuck with me,” she hisses. “You know what I’m talking about.”
“Enlighten me.”
“You and Elizabeth. I know you’ve been seeing her when you shouldn’t.”
I raise an eyebrow. That is a surprise. I was exceedingly careful, or so I thought, but I guess my mother has had a long time to get her claws dug into this palace and put eyes where I least expect them.
“What do you have to say for yourself?” she demands, finger still poised at my throat.
I take her hand, pushing it away from me. “You want me to apologize? Make excuses? Fuck that. I was with her. Yes. But if you want to know what happened between us, I guess you’ll need to work on your little network of spies, because you won’t hear it from me.”
“Listen to me you little shit,” she says through twitching lips. “You may not care about the future of this kingdom, but I’ve worked too hard to see it pissed away by you. Why don’t you do what you do best? Step aside and let the people who care handle it.”
I clench my fists, skin heating. “Yeah. You care about the kingdom. So much you made sure father was out of the way so you could--”
She brings her arm up as quick as a snake to slap me, but I catch her wrist.
We both stare eye to eye for several seconds her face contorting from the effort of struggling against me, but I don’t let her go until she stops fighting. She glares at me, clutching her wrist. “You could have been so much more than you are, Roark,” she says, expression softening until there’s genuine sorrow in her face. “You were always the strongest and most clever in the room. When you spoke, people listened. All your father's advisors gushed and gushed about what a natural leader you were. We were so proud. But I know your dirty little secret. You think the little violent accidents that started to add up weren’t noticed? That you just got lucky and no one noticed?
“No,” she says. “We followed behind you, cleaning up until you got your shit straight. But you never did. You never did anything of meaning. You pissed away potential marriages, alliances, and everything else. Princess Tyrene’s father contacted me yesterday. He says he is strongly considering canceling the offer of marriage and presenting her to the Acretians.”
I shake my head. Hearing her version of the way things played out is almost laughable, but I’m not here to antagonize her. “Tell me something,” I say quietly. “Are you planning to try to put Titus on the throne instead of me?”
She doesn’t answer for a long time. “You may be a disappointment, but you’re still my son, so I’ll tell you this much. Events are already in motion, and there will come a point where you’ll either have to break yourself against t
he waves or let them take you where they will. Don’t fight it, Roark. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
With that, she leaves, heading back to the ballroom.
What a pleasant woman. My brother is a sociopath and my own mother just implied I’d be killed if I don’t step out of the way when Titus makes his move for the throne. It’s almost funny, though. Before, I was neutral at best on whether I wanted to make my claim for the throne, but I thought I would get around to it eventually if only to stop Titus from poisoning it. Now though? My mother just gave me a reason to want it, and a reason to watch the two of them fail. She thinks a storm is coming, and she’s right, but it’s not going to look like she expects.
Outside, the dancing has become more fevered as the alcohol has had time to flow. One aspect of our culture here that has always struck me as odd is the way we hold on to so many of the old traditions, and yet we listen to the outside’s modern music. Turning even the most fanciful function into what could be considered a dance club, this particular song has a driving beat that the women shamelessly gyrate to.
I scan the room, looking for Elizabeth, and I just barely catch her platinum blonde hair and the hem of her dress as she steps into a side room. I have to push through dancing bodies and crowds of people who want to stop me to suck up, but I pay none of them any mind, eyes locked on the door I saw Elizabeth go through.
I pause outside the door at the sound of raised voices.
“Stop!” I hear Elizabeth shout.
I try the door but find it locked. I slam my shoulder into it, breaking it away from the hinges. Inside, I find Elizabeth with her back to the wall while Titus pins her there with his arms on her shoulders. Her head is pulled back and he’s leaned forward like he’s trying to kiss her.
I draw my Blade, hating how good the weight of it feels in my hand right now and how hard it is to resist squeezing the trigger. “Step back, brother,” I say calmly.
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