Chapter 63: Yer Majesty
Rose’s hands froze as she gathered the dress in her hands. She tightly squeezed before she let it go. Her bare butt felt weird against the chair, but at least it was cushioned. She didn’t know what he planned to do. Did he want to do it here? Rose wouldn’t be surprised. The door and the table. This chair was even closer to a bed than anything else they had used.
"Spread your legs," he ordered.
Rose closed her eyes and did as he requested. His right leg no longer rested on her legs to lock her in; rather, he placed it on the ground with his knee bent, and her leg that was closest to him rested on his bent leg.
Caius didn’t hesitate as she spread her legs open for him. She was great at taking orders, and as much as he wanted to pound his hard cock into her, he could exercise some patience. He licked a finger, two fingers, three.
He touched her, and Caius couldn’t help the shock that appeared on his face. She was wet, very much so. He ran his middle finger up and down her; it smoothly moved. Rose shook her head as she moved her hands to her lips. He wanted to tell her to take her hand out, to not hide her sounds from him, but he thought it would be better to make it so she couldn’t hide it.
His finger kept moving across her sensitive parts while his other fingers kept her spread out. Without warning, Caius invaded, sliding a finger right into her slick hole. Rose jerked, lifting her rear off the cushion.
He slowly pushed his finger in. Her walls were wet enough that she could take him without any trouble, and Caius wanted nothing more than to replace his finger with what would fill her more than this, but he had no plans to stop until he had her on the very edge. He felt the knob and rubbed it. Rose stiffened immediately and gripped his leg that was raised behind her back, while a hand was still over her mouth.
Caius pulled out his finger and shoved two fingers in. His hand shook without pulling it out, and Rose lifted herself as water pooled at the corner of her eyes. She tried to close her legs, but the crown prince wouldn’t let her. It felt like she was losing her mind.
Why did it feel so good, and why wouldn’t he stop touching that spot? Every time he did, she felt herself lose a little more control. He thrusted, shook, in fact, everywhere he touched inside of her was on fire. She couldn’t think—everything concentrated on the heat in her core, and it was spreading.
Rose moaned. Her other hand had moved from her mouth to the backrest, which she gripped tight enough to make her knuckles white as she fought for control—control that she had already lost.
She closed her legs tighter until she found the spot. She was close. She ground against his fingers; all logic was completely forgotten. She was about to explode, and that was all she cared about.
"Yer Majesty," she cried as she came apart.