Chapter 6 Rougher Than Before

Mistress Suri's lips stayed locked around the swollen head of King Daze's cock, moving slowly, deliberately, like she had all the time in the world to unravel him.

Her tongue swirled lazy circles, then pressed flat, dragging along the underside in one long, wet pull.

The king’s fingers twitched at his sides. He wanted to yank her off, shove her away, end this before it dug any deeper into the hollow place inside him.

But his body betrayed him, his hips rocking forward just a fraction, his muscles locked tight, his wolf snarling low in his chest.

Five years she’d been coming to his palace, and every time she knew exactly how to drag his dead mate’s ghost to the surface.

The scent of jasmine oil on her skin, the way she hummed against him, soft and knowing, it all pulled memories he tried to bury. His mate laughs. Her fingers in his hair. The way she used to look at him like he was more than teeth and claws and a crown soaked in blood.

Suri felt the change in him, the way his thighs tensed, and her eyes flicked up, gleaming. She smiled around his length, then took him deeper, her throat relaxing until the thick head bumped the back.

She held there, swallowing around him, letting him feel the tight pulse.

“Shit,” Daze hissed through clenched teeth. His hand shot to her hair, his fingers twisting hard enough to make her scalp sting.

She eased back just enough to wrap her hand around the base, stroking firm and fast while her tongue teased the slit. Precum leaked steadily now, salty on her lips.

“Moon…” The word tore out of him, raw.

He hauled her up suddenly, spun her, and bent her over the heavy oak table. Papers scattered. Ink bottle tipped, black pooling like blood.

Suri resisted for half a heartbeat, planted her palms, and arched her back the wrong way.

“I want you from the front this time, Your Majesty.” Her voice came out breathy but sweet, like honey over broken glass.

“Five years you’ve taken me from behind. Let me see your face when you cum.”

King Daze’s lip curled. “You don’t tell me how to fuck.”

He shoved her down flat, her breasts mashed against the wood. She gasped, half-laugh, half-protest. “Easy, Your Majesty...”

He ignored her. His knees forced her thighs wide. Rough fingers callused from sword and rein traced her slick folds once, twice, then plunged inside.

Then three brutal strokes, curling, stretching. Suri jerked, cried out sharply.

“Ahh... Your Majesty!”

Another thrust of his fingers and she was dripping down his wrist.

He lined himself up, his thick head nudging her entrance, and slammed home in one merciless push.

Her scream echoed off the stone walls. “Ahhhh...!”

Three hard, punishing strokes right after. Her thighs trembled violently. She clawed at the table edge, her nails scraping wood.

He wasn’t like this before. He was always careful, almost gentle, and finished fast so he could push her out and be alone with his ghosts.

Now he felt endless, iron-hard, relentless, chasing something he couldn’t name.

Suri’s mind spun. She liked the roughness, craved it, but unease curled in her gut.

Something shifted in him these past weeks. Was it someone? No. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. She was the only one he let close. The only one who knew how to soothe the monster long enough for the man to breathe.

Another brutal snap of his hips drove the thought away. He pounded into her, hitting that deep spot over and over until her vision blurred. She moaned, sobbed, her body shaking.

“Y-Your Majesty… slow...”

He didn’t hear her. Or didn’t care. His mind roared. Why can’t I finish? Why does it feel like nothing touches the ache?

He growled, pulled out abruptly. Grabbed her hips, flipped her onto her back. Her legs splayed open again. Before she could catch her breath he shoved back into her mouth, fucking her throat with the same ruthless rhythm.

Wet, choking sounds filled the chamber. Her fingers dug into his thighs, guiding, urging, trying to keep control even now. Tears streaked her cheeks. Mascara ran in black rivers.

His wolf snarled inside his skull,' Call the slave. She might finish what this one can’t.'

Daze shoved the voice down. No. Not her. Never like that. The woman was punished enough for Suri’s delay with the message. He wouldn’t touch her again. He wouldn’t give her that power.

Suri’s nails bit harder. He thrust deeper. Once. Twice. Then it hit slow at first, a low burn, then it exploded. Hot spurts flooded her mouth. He groaned long and low, his hips jerking.

He pulled free and looked down.

Suri’s face was wrecked, it was red, swollen lips, her cheeks flushed, her tears and spit shining. She swallowed deliberately, held his stare, then licked her finger clean like she’d won something precious.

“You’ve improved, Your Majesty,” she purred, her voice hoarse.

King Daze’s jaw tightened. He tucked himself back into his trousers, then turned away. “You can go.”

She blinked. “What?”

“You heard me."

“I’m not leaving today.” She pushed herself upright, wincing as sore muscles protested. “I’m staying.”

His head snapped toward her. “You’re not staying in my palace, Suri. Go back to whatever hole you crawled out of. Your service here is finished.”

He strode to the desk drawer, yanked it open. A small white pouch hit the table with a clink. He grabbed it and walked back to her. He upended it over her lap.... Gold coins rained down, bouncing off her thighs, rolling across the floor, some striking her bare skin with sharp pings.

“That’s your pay. Take it and leave.”

Suri stared at the glittering mess, then at him. Her chest rose and fell fast. He’d never spoken to her like this. He had never looked at her like she was dirt under his boot.

Her wolf howled in her mind. 'He can’t change. We won’t allow this.'

She forced a small and trembling smile. “I’ll leave, Your Majesty. Tomorrow. Just… let me stay tonight. Please.”

He studied her for a long moment, cold, and unreadable.

Then gave one sharp nod. “Tomorrow. First light.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

She moved slowly, her body aching in places she hadn’t felt in years. She dragged her discarded dress over her head, not bothering to tie it properly.

“Guard!”

Two men burst in, their eyes down, bowing so low their foreheads nearly touched the floor.

“One of you... Pick up every coin. The other, tell the maids to draw a bath for me. A hot one. Now.”

“Yes, Mistress,” they murmured in unison, scrambling to obey.

They left. Silence fell again, thick and heavy.

Suri limped to the massive bed and sank onto the edge. The furs were soft under her bruised thighs. She looked up at him through her lashes.

“I’ll sleep here tonight.”

King Daze’s hand froze on the parchment he’d picked up.

“No.”

“Why not?” Her voice stayed soft, coaxing. “You used to let me stay. You used to hold me after. What’s changed, Moon? It’s not like there’s another woman warming your bed.”

His growl rolled low, and dangerous. The air thickened with the scent of angry alpha... pine, smoke, and iron.

“You don’t question me, Suri. You’re my whore. My whore. Nothing more. Nothing will ever change that.”

The words landed like a blade between her ribs. She felt the twist, the bleed. She’d always known her place, wore it like armor.

But hearing it from his mouth... cold, and final cracked something inside in her.

Her eyes narrowed. A slow, dangerous smile curved her lips.

She rose, stepped closer, her voice dropping to a whisper only he could hear.

“Whore today, Your Majesty. But tomorrow?” She tilted her head.

“Who knows what a woman can become… when she wants something badly enough.”

King Daze didn’t answer. He just watched her, his eyes dark and stormy.