Page 74 of Their Blood Queen
“Did you think you could spread your legs and I’d forget my duty to Scarlett?” I ask her. My words drip with venom, and Eleanor tries to close her legs.
I hold them open, then flip my blade with a trained motion so that the hilt presses against her thigh. I drag it up her skin until I reach her pussy, then I hold it there, just at her entrance, and wait for her response.
Her eyes are wide when she responds. “Duty?” she asks. “Is… is that enough to make you forget me, Edward? Forget our love?”
“Love?” I all but snarl, then shove my hilt into her wet cunt. I clamp a hand over her mouth when she squeaks. “You don’t love me, Eleanor. You love this.” I move the hilt deeper until the wide handle bumps against her clit. Her hips move, betraying that she’s sick enough to enjoy what I’m doing to her.
Which makes any remorse I might have had vanish.
Because I’m going to make her come all over my blade so that any monsters attending tonight will smell her lust. They’ll come after her like a treat I’ve left out for them to feast on.
I decide to recall any servants from this side of the wing.
I don’t need to take care of my Eleanor problem. She’ll do it for me.
Pumping the hilt into her, I thrust harder and faster until she’s a trembling and whimpering mess. I stop just before a climax overtakes her body, because I have a special sort of humiliation in mind for a manipulative slut like this.
I can’t help but admit that my breath is coming in soft pants, that my cock is as hard as a rock and all I want to do is find Scarlett and claim her to release this need inside of me.
But the blade of my desire needs to be dulled first. Unlike Eleanor, Scarlett is untouched in that way. I know her brother teased her as a lure with other Earls and Lords, but she’s still a virgin. She’s still untainted.
She’s sweet and witty and special.
This slut is nothing, which makes her the perfect outlet for my cruelty.
Scarlett won’t ever be subjected to this dark side of me. It’s best I get it out of the way, for her sake.
Scarlett will only get my sweetness.
My tenderness.
Everything in me that is gentle and caring. Her needs will come before my own.
Which means my needs must never be wanting.
I have to satisfy my darkness if I’m to protect Scarlett. I should thank Lady Eleanor for giving me an outlet I hadn’t even realized was sorely needed.
Ripping the long hilt from the slut’s wet cunt, I stab the blade into the sofa’s material just between her legs so that the hilt sticks up.
“Ride it,” I command her.
She blinks at me with incomprehension as I slide away the rest of her clothing, leaving her naked except for the ballroom style hair that seems out of place now without her frills and lace. The silks I’ve removed puddle onto the floor, shredded and hopeless to ever be used as clothing again. There’s not a single piece large enough for her to drape around herself, should she come to her senses when she realizes what my punishment is.
Humiliation.
“And if I don’t?” she challenges. Her lower lip quivers, but she manages to look me in the eyes.
There’s still some fight left in this whore that needs to be dealt with.
I lean in and lower my voice, enunciating my threat with dark promise. “Then I’ll drag you into the ballroom just like this. I’ll throw you on the floor and tell everyone that you took off all your clothes and tried to seduce me. You’ll never find a husband after that.”
Her fingers dig into the velvety material of the chaise lounge as she stares at me. “I’ll tell them you did this to me.”
Cocking my head to the side, I call her bluff. “Who do you think they’ll believe, Eleanor? The slut with a wet cunt, or a fully clothed gentleman?”
I’d pass any monster-grade examination. I haven’t fucked her. Sex generates energy. So does lust. Such a scan would detect I’m aroused, but I’m thinking about Scarlett. It would point the needle to my betrothed, vindicating me of any wrongdoing.
I followed Lady Eleanor to nip this sort of behavior in the bud. No one blackmails me and gets away with it.