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Your fists are clenched in his silk sheets, knuckles pale from the pressure and strain you are placing on them. On your hands and knees, each joint shaking as you struggle to keep yourself upright. Your throat is tight from your moans, your whimpering, your pleading words. Every movement of Lucio’s tongue against your swollen, aching cunt makes stars burst in your vision, and every time he laughs there—cruel, lilted, amused—it sends a new white-hot bolt straight to your core, starting your struggle all over again.
“I’m shocked you’ve lasted so long, pet,” he tells you. His teeth scrape against the skin of your thigh, and you clench your jaw a little tighter to stop yourself from asking him yet again to do more, to give you more.
But it is never more.
It never will be more.
He will drag this out for an eternity because listening to you huff, listening to you plead, listening to you struggle with half-formed sobs in your throat all because of him—it is all he needs, all he craves, your attention 100% focused on him and what he is doing.
His fingers begin to dance up the inside of your thigh, and you are stupid enough to hope, even for a moment, that he will be giving you something more than soft kisses and kitten licks to your swollen clit. He must sense the hope, too, because he laughs that same way and sighs at you.
“Oh, pet.”
His fingers linger for a moment longer before falling away. You can’t get hold of it fast enough, and a frustrated cry spills from your lips.
“What’s that?” He snaps. You duck your head, hoping he’ll leave it alone. “No no, pet, tell me – what is it you’re so frustrated about?”
Your voice is thick in your throat, shaking as you say, “I want to come.”
He laughs. “Oh, you want to come, do you? My wicked little pet wants to writhe around my fingers, scream my name while she takes her pleasure, smear her juices all over my face as she rides me until she collapses?”
Every limb shakes at his words, but you keep yourself up. You nod, just the once, because it is all you can do, and the less of a response you give him the less material he has to work with to bait and taunt you – though it is no secret by the slick running down your thighs, by the damp patch on his expensive silk sheets beneath you, that it is all for your benefit.
You hear him shuffle behind you, his hands smooth across your lower back, soothing you for a moment as he contemplates his next move.
“I suppose you have earned it,” he tells you. You wait with baited breath for the catch. “You’ve been doing so well tonight with all my teasing and taunting. I don’t think you’ve sworn even once. Maybe I should fuck you. Let you milk my cock like the whore that you are. Would you like that, pet?”
“Yes!” You gush out, then in a more subdued yet unsteady voice, “Please. Please fuck me. I’ve been so good. I want to come on your cock.”
After a few torturous moments, you hear his buttons pop one by one behind you, followed by the shuffle of his feet as he inches a little closer. You feel the thick heat of him against your cunt, where he presses it against your folds, dragging it upward in one slow, delicious movement.
“Tell me where you want it, pet,” he says. You whimper as the head of his cock presses ever-so-slightly against your entrance and then pulls away, moving through your folds again to gather your arousal as he waits.
“I want it—” You stumble on your words. “I want you to fuck my ass. Please.”
He hums at your response, but you can’t catch the tone of it. “Did you prepare for that?"
You nod eagerly, shifting your hips so they are a little further back, a little closer to where he is waiting. Even if you had not anticipated the mindless teasing and hours of aching torture he had planned for you that night, you had at least planned and prepared to have him fuck you senseless in your favourite way.
“Don’t move.”
You nod, listening as he moves off to the dresser in the corner of the room. You dare to turn your head a little, glimpsing him as he opens the top drawer and pulls out the bottle of lubricant you placed there that evening. In the candlelight, the gold of his arm glints and winks, matching the light sheen of sweat across his skin from the humid summer night. He reads the bottle label over, seeming pleased with the one you have chosen, then closes the drawer with his hip. As he does, the muscles of his abdomen clench and roll beneath his skin. You moan and arch in approval, pushing your hips back into the air. His eyes snap to you in an instant.
“I told you not to move. Or are you too brainless with lust from that needy cunt of yours to follow even a simple order?”
You murmur an apology you know he doesn’t care to hear as he walks back to you, already uncapping the bottle and squeezing some of it into his palm. The sigh of it is followed by the wet sound of him stroking it over his cock as he resettles behind you.
“I like you like this,” he tells you, almost as if in afterthought to his movements. “Ass out to me, a trembling, pathetic little mess. Sometimes I think you’re more useful this way than when you’re attempting to solve my kingdom’s problems with your magic.”
You inhale sharply as he squeezes some of the lubricant into the cleft of your ass, the gel rolling down until it hits your puckered hole.
“Anything to say to that?” He asks. His index finger circles you, spreading the lubricant as he waits.
“No."
He snorts. “I should have guessed. You can’t answer questions, you can’t stay still when asked—at least if your magic proves useless you’ll prove to have a decent career as my fuck toy.”
The tip of his finger presses into your hole, gently shifting around, twisting and curling to try and coax you open. You moan softly at the feel of it, your entire body trembling from anticipation. He takes his time, his gloved hand smoothed over your lower back, claws scraping gently as he sinks his finger into his second knuckle, continuing to probe and pry and coax.
“Are you ready for two?” He asks after a time, his voice a little softer. You nod, and earn yourself a harsh smack from his gloved hand. You yelp, hips shifting away from the pain, but his hand is back in an instant, pulling you closer to him.
“Don’t pull away,” he growls. You feel his second finger carefully press into you, along with a little more lubricant. Some of it trails down to the lips of your cunt, cooling the heated skin there, reminding you of exactly how neglected you are.
“Lucio?”
“Yes, pet?”
“Can I touch myself while you stretch me?”
“Will you come all over your own hand like a fucking whore if I say yes?”
Your cheeks heat, and you bite down on the inside of your cheek as the heat ripples through your body. His words have squashed your request but done nothing for your arousal except made it worse, and of course he knows this, and of course he is enjoying it, watching your body tremble as you struggle not to disobey, as you press back into his fingers as they become three and crook and stretch your puckered little hole.
He could get off on this sight alone, the knowledge that his words were doing nothing to shame you and everything to turn you into a hot, writhing little mess, and once your ass and cunt were covered in strings of his seed, he would leave you there to sort yourself out without a second thought.
“I think you’re ready, pet,” he tells you after a few more minutes.
His fingers slip out of you, and you moan softly at the loss. But already he is lining the head of his cock up, dragging it through your sopping cunt to gather your slick and the lubricant that has dripped into it, before positioning the head against your asshole.
Hand holding you steady at the small of your back, he presses into you. Carefully at first, even though in the long minutes he’s spent stretching you, and in your desperation to have his cock filling your ass, you don’t think you would even care for the light sting if he rushed his movements. He inches into you, so slowly, pulling back and pressing in to test just how stretched you are, whether you need more lubrication, whether your body is still responding to him.
“Pet?” He asks, and you already know the hidden questions behind that single word.
“It’s fine!” You gasp out, dizzy from arousal.
Black dots are popping in your vision as you arch into him. Your knuckles are pale again. You think you hear the sound of silk ripping as you pull one corner of his sheets out from where it is hooked into his mattress. He will make you pay for that later, and it will be no more fun than the torture you just endured.
“P-please, please—” You are cut off by your own moan, and quite shortly after, the return of Lucio’s cold, cruel laugh.
“Please what, pet? Am I not already fucking you exactly where you asked to be fucked? Am I not stretching your tightest little hole, making you moan and writhe beneath me like the common fucking slut that you are? What good are you to me if you cannot form words, if you cannot make simple requests or tell me what you need?”
As he finishes his latest round of taunts, and your body rushes with a new wave of heat, he becomes fully seated inside of you, the thick length of him stretching your tight little hole. The inner walls of your cunt flutter at the feeling, as though trying to latch onto his cock, or hoping for something to stretch them, too.
Another sharp smack to your ass brings you back to reality, along with his biting tone.
“Answer me, pet.”
“I—”
You whimper as he begins to draw his cock out of you, almost as achingly slow as when he pushed in. You know now that he is doing it on purpose, that he is choosing to move only when he requires an answer from you – when he knows that you will not be able to give it, too lost in the sensations he and he alone can give you. When he knows he will be able to degrade you for your incompetence as a result.
You part your lips to try to give him something, anything, but before you manage to dislodge any one word from your throat, he thrusts back into you. The movement jolts you, sending you forward onto your elbows, your hips tilted up toward him as he settles a hand on each hip and begins to fuck you.
He sets a brutal pace, one that jolts every nerve in your body, has you reaching forward to try and grasp anything you can to steady yourself, but there is nothing there. You are at his mercy, unable to protect yourself as he fucks you, unable to leverage yourself enough to push back into his hips to try and find a little more of him.
“Look at you,” he growls. The slap of skin echoes around you, the wet squelch as you come together again and again. “Can’t even form two words. Can’t even move. This is all you’re good for. Fucking. You are nothing but a set of holes. A throat, a tight little asshole, and a greedy little fucking cunt. Tell me, pet, do you think you deserve to come? Do you deserve to touch yourself and make yourself scream as I fuck your ass, if you’re just that useless?”
Your eyes sting as you scramble to answer him, but your answer must not come quickly enough. He pauses for barely a moment in his brutal movements to lean forward and pull you up, golden arm wrapped snuggly around your throat, holding you back against his chest but not tight enough to choke you. Not yet.
“You don’t,” he tells you, his hot breath curling around your ear as he murmurs to you. “You don’t deserve to touch yourself, and you sure as hell don’t deserve to come. But what I deserve, and what I so love, is to feel you shudder against me as you come, to hear you screaming my name for the entire palace to hear.”
He begins thrusting again, his movements a little slower from your new angle, but oh so much deeper. With his golden arm still flush around your neck, he slides his other hand down your stomach, knocking your thighs apart to delve his fingers into your sopping folds.
You whimper against him while he fucks you with his fingers and his cock, whispering softly to you all of the filthiest things that he loves about you—your mouth, your moans, your screams, the way you beg, the way you give him and only him all your pretty noises and most desperate and darkest desires. How he would give anything to be the only two people in the world, to have endless access to you to hold and love and cherish and worship.
Too quickly, or perhaps not quickly enough, you feel every single one of your tells fall into place, and then a moment later you are crashing around his fingers, screaming his name to the palace in the exact way he told you that you would.
He coos softly in your ear, encouraging you through each wave as it crashes and causes you to shudder and cry out against him. Your cunt squeezes his fingers while your ass squeezes his cock, milking every drop of him as he spills into you and groans into your shoulder. Only when you are weak, and only when he is spent, do you sag back against him, eyes closed.
He presses a kiss to your shoulder, inhaling your scent with a slow breath.
“Are you alright, pet?” He asks, his voice soft once more, all of his usual affections for you weaving their way through his words.
You nod, turning your head to accept his kiss to your cheek. He keeps you tight to his chest as he pulls out of you, turning you in his arms and laying you down on your back as you feel his seed begin to drip out of you and down your thighs.
“That was quite the performance,” you murmur to him. Your lips quirk into a smile, and he kisses each corner dutifully before pulling you into his arms, his leg hooking around you for extra measure.
“I’m always up to scratch when it comes to you, pet,” he tells you. “Rest for now, but we’ll have to get you cleaned up afterward.
He pulls his fingers through your hair as you nod, murmurs more soft words that you barely hear as he waits for you to settle into yourself once more. Despite his promises that your rest was only brief, that he would clean you up before the night takes you complete, his touch lulls you with its softness, and his praises are the last thing you hear before you drift off in his arms, safe, spent, and sated.