“Now, let me entertain you, Nathan,” Khillea purred, her voice a melodic taunt that twisted itself into my gut like a snake coiling tighter with each word. Her lips curved into a sultry smile that was anything but innocent, the kind of expression that made men weak and reckless.
But my eyes snapped open wide, the shock of hearing her say my name like a sudden knife between the ribs. Narrowing them quickly, I tried to conceal the storm brewing behind my gaze. How the hell did she know my name? It was impossible. I had been careful. Always careful. Only one scenario replayed in my mind, and I cursed myself under my breath.
Aisha.
It had to have been her. That moment of weakness when I was lost in her body, when every thrust made her call out my name like a prayer. It must have slipped, then. Khillea must have been listening.
This was bad. If she kept uttering my name, letting it slip to the wrong ears, everything could spiral out of control. Liphiel finding out would be more than a problem—it would be a death sentence. She’d call several Divine Knights to get rid of me.
Meanwhile Khillea’s delicate fingers were already moving, tracing lines of heat over my chest, but I wasn’t about to let her take the lead. My hand shot up, gripping her wrist before she could go any further. Her startled gasp sent a pulse of satisfaction through me, but I kept my voice cold, cutting.
“I’ll be the one entertaining you.” The words were low, edged with menace. I wasn’t playing her game. I was going to make her submit, to crush whatever fantasies of power she thought she held over me. Her pulse fluttered beneath my grip, but I didn’t release her.
Khillea’s throat bobbed as she swallowed, her eyes wide with expectation. She wasn’t just a predator—there was prey lurking underneath, waiting to be snared. She just didn’t know it yet.
“Achilles—or anyone else—won’t hear a damn thing about what happens here.” I leaned in, letting my breath brush over her ear. “Do you understand?”
“Y-Yes,” she stammered, her head nodding rapidly, but her gaze was distant, glazed. Was she even listening to me? Or was she too caught up in her own twisted desires to comprehend the danger she was in? Her pupils were blown wide, lips parted like she was waiting, yearning for something.
“Kneel,” I commanded.
A flicker of hesitation crossed her face, her brows knitting together. “What?” she questioned, as if her pride had reared its ugly head for a brief moment, blocking her compliance. Was she really that arrogant, or just oblivious to what was coming?
I yanked her wrist, forcing her down with a snarl that wiped any resistance from her face. “Discard your pride,” I spat. “You won’t need it for the next twenty minutes, because when I’m through fucking you, Khillea, you won’t be able to remember what pride feels like.”
She barely had time to process the words before her knees hit the ground. I could see the tremble in her thighs, the quick rise and fall of her chest. Her lips parted as if to protest, but no words came. Just a soft, broken sound—uncertainty mixed with fear, maybe lust. Her gaze lowered, then landed directly on my crotch as I unbuttoned my pants.
I pulled down my trousers, my cock springing free, still slick from the remnants of my encounter with Aisha. Khillea’s eyes widened, her lips trembling as her breath hitched audibly. Her voice was a nervous whisper. “It’s… bigger than I thought.”
I smirked, my hand finding the back of her head, fingers tangling roughly in her hair. “Stroke it,” I ordered, watching her face for any sign of resistance.
“Stroke?” she repeated dumbly, blinking up at me like she didn’t understand what the hell I was asking. The blank expression on her face made me pause. Could she be… a virgin? Impossible. Achilles had been with her, hadn’t he? But now, there was doubt crawling into my mind, curiosity clawing its way in.
“Don’t pretend you don’t know,” I muttered darkly. I grabbed her wrist and guided her hand to my cock. Her touch was tentative at first, fingers wrapping around my length slowly, the warmth of her skin making my pulse hammer in my ears. Despite myself, a low groan rumbled in my throat since it’s been awhile someone did a handjob to me.
Her hands were softer than I expected, delicate, yet firm enough to ignite something primal in me. “You’ve got good hands,” I grunted, rolling my hips forward just slightly, the heat coiling in my gut intensifying with every stroke.
Her breath was quickening, her chest heaving with a mix of anticipation and nerves. She bit her lip, watching the way her fingers moved over my cock, eyes flicking between my face and the thick, throbbing length she was handling.
Her hand moved awkwardly, her grip unsure, fingers barely wrapping around the base of my cock as she attempted to stroke me. I could feel the hesitation in her touch, the uncertainty that radiated off her as she tried to please me.
Khillea’s breath hitched every time she glanced up at me, her wide eyes flicking between my face and the thick length in her hand. Her lips parted slightly, her breath quick and shallow, betraying the mix of nervousness and anticipation that seemed to war within her. But she was too clumsy, too inexperienced. The contrast between her aloof, prideful exterior and the fumbling, virginal way she handled me made something dark coil in my gut.
I growled, low and deep, wrapping my hand around her wrist to still her pathetic attempts. “You call that stroking?” I muttered, my voice a harsh rasp. Her gaze darted to mine, confusion clouding her features, her lips parting as if to question me. I didn’t give her the chance.
“Open your mouth,” I ordered, the command sharp and absolute. She blinked, hesitating for a fraction of a second, as if she hadn’t quite registered the demand. Her lips moved, forming the start of a protest, but I tugged her wrist firmly, guiding her hand up my shaft, making her feel the way my cock throbbed in her grip, hard and eager.
“Open your mouth and lick it,” I repeated, this time slower, more deliberate, watching her for any flicker of resistance.
“Lick?” Khillea gulped, her throat bobbing as she stared at me, her pulse quickening under my firm grip. Her lips trembled for a moment before, with a hesitant intake of breath, she finally obeyed.
Her mouth parted, her tongue slipping out cautiously, pink and glistening as she lowered her head. There was a moment of hesitation, as if she was still grappling with the absurdity of what she was about to do. But there was no going back now. I wasn’t going to let her stop.
“Sluuurp~” Her tongue met the head of my cock, rolling over the sensitive tip in a slow, tentative swirl. A sharp gasp escaped her lips as she tasted me, her tongue moving with deliberate slowness, unsure of how to please but eager to try. She licked the ridge of the glans awkwardly, her warm tongue tracing the edges, before circling back around, flicking over the slit.
“Sluuuuurp!”
“Orgh…” I groaned softly, my hips shifting forward, watching the way her tongue explored me with growing curiosity. The sight of her kneeling there, her tongue swirling around the tip of my cock, was enough to send a surge of heat through me. Her lips were parted, breath warm and ragged against my skin as she struggled to keep up, her strokes still clumsy but slowly improving.
“Lick it all,” I ordered, my voice thick with impatience. “Don’t just play with the tip.”
“Sluuuurp~~sluuurp~sluurp!”
Her eyes darted up to meet mine, wide and startled, but she obeyed, her tongue dragging along the length of my cock, starting at the base and working her way up. Her strokes were still awkward, but there was something intoxicating about the way she moved, the way her lips trembled around each lick, as if she was both terrified and enthralled by what she was doing.
“Good girl,” I muttered, my hand tightening in her hair, guiding her movements as her tongue rolled along my length, wet and eager. “Now put it in your mouth.”