Bride of the Emperor (The Prophecy of Sisters Book 4) by Hayley Faiman (urban books to read .TXT) 📕

Her cunnus grips me, wrapping around me, and almost demands that I stay planted deep inside of her. I do not. Instead, I continue to slam into her, over and over until I venio, hard. So hard that I am forced to close my eyes and it is as if I am looking up into the night sky and am surrounded by stars.

She trembles in my arms, and I should slip from her body and leave her immediately, but I am not finished with her, not yet. Turning around, my mentula still buried deep inside of her, I carry her over to the bed.

Lying her down, only then do I slip from her body and groan as I do, wishing to still be buried inside of her. My eyes have since adjusted to the darkness around me, but not enough that I can see her features. I hate that I cannot turn up the candlelight to see her, but it cannot be done, at least not yet.

Perhaps one day she will not find me a hideous monster, but that day is not today and I need her to be filled with my seed before she turns from me and does not allow me inside of her body.

Disrobing, I help her out of her gown as well, and together we silently crawl into the bed and beneath the sheets. I reach out to her, slowly tracing her body with my fingertips, growling as I guide my fingers along her breasts and feel all of her.

Inching my way down the middle of her chest and stomach, she spreads her thighs for me as if an immediate instinctual reaction. I enjoy this, my fingers finding, and taking liberties with the most treasured part of her.

“Pulcher,” I rasp. She is that, too, beautiful. “Melculum,” I breathe against her lips before I touch my mouth to hers.

She speaks, though her words are lost to me. I call her melculum again before I stroke her and prepare her for my mentula again, slipping two fingers inside of her. She will take me as many times as we are able every night until she is carrying my child deep inside of her—my boy.

Her hips jerk as my fingers begin to stroke, then I hear her mewl. She wishes for more. My mentula rises to attention, ready to give her what she desires. Climbing between her legs, I do not stop, my fingers cannot stop and I wish that I could see all of her in this way.

I hear her whimper, then feel her flutter around my fingers as I pump in and out, feeling her climb higher and higher, waiting for her to find her sweet pleasured release. But instead of her shifting and moving, she stops. I feel her fingers wrap around my wrist and she squeezes.

Stopping, I frown, wondering what she could want, but I don’t ask her. I hear her words coming out of her, but I do not understand a single one. Then she pulls my hand away from between her legs and I growl in frustration. The last thing I want to do is have a famulus finish me tonight, I want to plant my seed inside of her.

I feel her hands on my shoulders, she applies pressure and pushes me backward. Once I am on my back, she climbs on top of me, her thighs straddling my hips and she positions herself, my mentula in her grasp as she sinks down along my length, taking all of me inside of her.

Lifting my hands, I wrap my fingers around her hips and hold her still. Her palms lie flat against my chest and she begins to move.

She takes her time.

Her hips roll, her soft breaths the only noise that fills the room and I am unable to do anything else, but listen and feel her body, wishing that I could see her in this moment. I clench my jaw, holding back my release as she searches for her pleasure enjoying my body.

She may always enjoy me. Always. I am proud to allow her the freedom to take from me what I willingly give.

Her hips roll and buck as she begins to move harder and faster. She rides me and I allow it, every second of it. She grinds her landica against my pelvis, her moans and whimpers growing louder with each stroke until her entire body freezes and she lets out a cry of pleasure that is sure to be heard throughout the domum.

Lifting her by her waist, I flip her onto her back and take her. She wraps her legs around my waist tightly as I ride her hard and unforgivingly. She does not protest, instead she squeezes her thighs and lifts her hips.

It doesn’t take me long to find my release and when I do, I bury myself to the root as deep as I can, knowing that my seed will travel toward its destination and hopefully impregnate her. Soon she will be with my child and even sooner, she will be my bride.

The gods may have made a mistake by allowing her match to be with a monster, but I will fulfill their desires to the best of my ability.

Chapter Five

TIBERIUS

I cannot get enough of her. Every part of her feels amazing. I did not think it possible that this woman could make me feel the way that I do. Sexual intercourse is and always has been gratifying rather by freewoman, prostitute, or famulus. It, however, feels nothing like it has with this woman—my fated.

She lets out a little whimper as she rolls over, curling closer to my body. When her arm wraps around my waist and she presses her chest against my side, I close my eyes and allow the sensation of her body against mine to flow throughout me.

I cannot stay in this bed with her all night. I cannot chance her seeing me in the