Learn Me... - The Castle Under the Swamp

The King in Yellow chuckles darkly against her flesh at this delightful response. His tongue and lips and breath are used against the surface of her, the flesh of her. Each curve and curl and separation of her is doted upon. His hands drift up to caress her belly and breasts and flesh. A rich purr replaces the chuckle, and he draws as much pleasure for her as he can.

Her small frame trembled at his ministrations, each touch causing a small sigh, or whimper or some sort of pleasant sound fall from her lips.

The King draws as much pleasure from her as he can before his kissing caresses move up. They travel along the hollow of her hip, to her navel. They gently move along her ribs and against each breast. They linger upon her nipples, enjoying the sweet texture there. Slowly, along her collarbone and over her throat. The sweet spot below her ear. Gently along her jaw. Now, once more, his lips tangle with hers and his tongue seeks her own sweet one in return.

As their lips connect once more, he captures one of her wrists and guides her hand down to rest between them. First, on her own sensitive sweetness. Then against his own engorged excitement.

Her hand moved awkwardly down there, the inexperience causing a nervous fumbling for a moment. Slowly, she worked out a motion, running her hand along his length. With each stroke, her thumb brushed against her own soft spot, each motion causing her hips to raise slightly, trapping her hand between them.

The King purrs quietly against her, and as she rises her hips, he presses against her to meet the motion. He slides against her slick comfort and begins to claim her once more. The long, agile fingers of a hand cup beneath her bum to help guide her hips, and the other tantalizes the tender skin about a budding breast.

Her turn from obedient tolerance to obedient wanton had done something for the creature, and he wanted her now. Now, in fact.

She whimpered ever so slightly as he began to slide into her, her entire body tensing. With delicious contrast, gasps of pain and gasps of pleasure came from her lips, though neither indicated she wanted him to stop.

The King leaned into her, sliding into her deeper. With each forward thrust, he pauses, retreats ever so slightly, and presses forward again. His movements are slow, but intense, like part of some sacred dance that only he knew the steps too. His purr thickens and grows louder. With each gesture to work into her, there is less she can take. As she takes all she can, he pauses. The hand under her hips slides gently along her back to grasp her neck. The whole of her body now was a lever used to pleasure the pair, and he was so good at this.

Free long fingers trace patterns from the hollow of her hip to a nipple. Lips, tongue and teeth tease the flesh of her throat, neck and collar. For a time, he does nothing but remain within her and tease other parts of her body. Then he begins to slowly couple once more, holding her just so that she can't escape.

She continued to shiver and tense, lips parted to release soft sounds of torment and rapture. Her back arched from the bed, her little fingers teased down his chest, almost kneading as a cat would, her short fingernails catching briefly on his skin.

The King pauses before deciding to quicken his pace somewhat. Her protests are absent, and her enjoyment was delightful.

Quicker, more intense, he takes her. The purr grows slowly to a growl, and his licking nibbles at her neck slowly transform into an actual Kiss to taste her properly and roll the essence of her around in his mouth. Long fingers slide up to her wrists and capture them, pulling them above her head and pinning them to a pillow effortlessly.

She seemed to enjoy the idea of being restrained, arching her back further, her lithe little body squirming under him in a naive, though smooth sort of way. "Daddy.." Was all she could manage to murmur, her head rolling back and forth as her body was taken in ecstasy.

Finding her responses heightened, he works into her fast and faster. Her flavor is unbelievable. Fresh... young... perfect. Her whimpers and words are unbelievably intoxicating. Keeping her wrists pinned, he hooks his freehand under her hip and start to flip her onto her tummy.

The improved leverage keeps her pressed flat to the bed. He was close, and exploring these new things with her was thrilling. Odd. Within her, he swells and presses, filling her even more.

As he filled her further, she cried out into the sheets her face pressed against, her fingers stretching outward, before clenching tightly. Her small body continued to shake, the lithe frame writhing beneath him.