Chapter 10: Rising Tension

Thane Drogos "You have quite the selection," Evelyn mused, gazing at my bookshelf. Her back was to me, the loose cotton shirt barely hanging onto her narrow shoulders. My eyes trailed downwards, taking in her lithe feminine form. Her hips flared out into leather pants I knew were Rio's. They looked much better on Evelyn. Slightly too big, but her round ass still curved against the fabric. "I like to read on voyages," I answered, unable to pull my eyes away from her, dipping down even further to her legs. She's wearing too many clothes. At that intrusive thought, I turned away, thinking about her freckled thighs I knew hid beneath those pants. I wanted to see them again, but this time spread wide so I could get a good look at her pretty pussy before I leaned down to taste it. I'd fuck her with my tongue, her arms restrained over her head. Make her nice and wet, teetering on the edge until she begged for my cock, tears of desperation welling in her big doe eyes. How would she sound when she came? Would she still call me a motherfucker, all breathless, when I sent her flying into the next orgasm? Or would she finally stop talking, unable to find her voice in the throes of pleasure? Both options seemed unbearably sexy. My cock pressed hard against the seam of my pants, aching to be let out. I've never been more thankful for this table. I wanted nothing more than the taste of the princess. To show her how a man could properly make her come. That fiance of hers probably didn't know how to pleasure a woman. Two humps and he would probably need to be resuscitated. What man in their right mind would promise their daughter to a man three times her age? Didn't seem completely off-kilter for a Stanton. Her father was no spring chicken, nearing seventy years old. But I believed the same man who slaughtered my family would happily send his daughter off to be another man's incubator. That fact alone made me want to keep her away from that castle. But then, I would only endanger my mother, my crew, the people in my life who protected me. It was my responsibility now to protect them. I shouldn't care about what happened to Evelyn once I sent her on her way. But I did. A beautiful woman with a bite like her deserved more than that. "Thane?" she asked again, looking over her shoulder at me, hair tossed over one shoulder. Her soft throat looked so dainty, like satin under my fingertips. I wanted to drag my tongue up and down the entire length of her throat, reveling in how she quivered. I bet her skin tasted as sweet as she looked. With her back pressed against my chest, I'd turn her head and devour her mouth. Teach her how to kiss. How to use her hands. Use that tempting, spiteful, little mouth that knew filthier words than it should. Oh, I wondered what filthy things she'd say as I sank into her, hand around her supple throat. I'd fuck her until she couldn't form words anymore. Until the only noise she could make were screams. The creatures at the bottom of the ocean would hear it by the time I was done with her. Or better yet, when she was done with me. I shook the thought out of my head. "Yes?" "I was asking if I could borrow your books sometime," she breathed, the pink still hadn't left her cheeks. So fucking adorable. "As long as you take care of them," I decided, my tone not giving away how strained I was under the table. "Anything off limits?" she turned away from me again, running her fingers down the spines of a few water-warped novels. You. "The one behind my desk," I answered. "It's my favorite." Evelyn looked over my desk at the worn down novel, the years and years of use made it delicate. She stroked a gentle finger over the cover. "It looks well-loved." "Do you have a favorite book, Evelyn?" I asked, leaning back at the table, our dirty dishes stacked neatly, ready for a cabin boy to take them away in the morning. She glanced at me from over her shoulder, a smile pulling on the corners of her lips. A devious smirk that screamed indignance. "I do. It's called, 'The Art of Profanity'." A laugh vibrated from my chest. My shoulders quaked from the force of my laughter. Between wheezing breaths, I said, "I was wondering where you got your… colorful vocabulary." "My parents certainly didn't teach me. I'm sure they found it under my bed by now. Fun while it lasted, I suppose," she answered, a tinge of sadness leaking into her playful tone. "I think I'm going to turn in for the night, actually." "Be my guest," I offered, gesturing to my bed. The furs tangled with the sheets, but I couldn't be bothered to make it. It annoyed my mother, but why make a bed when I would just use it again the next night. Seemed like a waste of time to me. Evelyn crossed her arms, brows furrowing. She pursed her pink lips. "Where will you be sleeping?" "My bed," I stated confidently. "There's only one." Evelyn's grimace deepened. "You can sleep on the chaise if you want, but I'm sleeping in my bed tonight," I said with a wave of my wrist. I was polite that first night, but I didn't want to give up my bed a second time. Sleeping in that chaise always gave me a stiff back. Perks of getting older. I wasn't much older than Evie, but old enough to claim my own bed. Evelyn frowned, putting her hands on her hips in the brattiest way she possibly could. And fuck, if that didn't make me even harder. She was asking to be flipped over my knee and spanked. Her cute ass in the air, red from my palm. A little squeak every time my hand came down with a smack. Reminded me of when I threw her over my shoulder, and she screamed her head off until I smacked her ass. She made the most offended huff and continued to insult me. But this time, I'd paint her ass red. I needed to stop thinking about her like this. "You know what, fine, but keep those big hands to yourself," Evelyn relented, dropping her hands from her hips. "I wouldn't dream of touching you, princess," I retorted. That was a bold-faced lie. I dreamt of it often, but she didn't need to know that. "Would you go somewhere else?" she asked. I leaned back in my seat. "I told you that I'm not letting you have my bed to yourself." Evelyn sighed, turning her head away from me, her cheeks lighting up again. "I would like to get out of some of these layers, and I can't do that with you staring at me." My eyes widened. "Oh." "I don't expect you to be sleeping in those leather pants either, but at least give me a little privacy to get comfortable," she continued, tucking her ringlets behind her ear shyly as she looked down at the floor before slowly back up to me again. My chest tightened, that innocent nervousness in her eyes enough to send me onto my knees for her. Another visual came into my mind of just that. Me on my knees before her as she tentatively touches me. First, my jaw, then my shoulders. Her fingertips would explore me, and I would let her. The intimacy in that visual startled me. She's a Stanton. The daughter of the family that murdered mine. But what sweet revenge would it be to have her. The Stanton princess, fucked by the son of their worst enemy. "As you wish, Evelyn," I decided, standing up, turning away, so she couldn't see my hard cock standing to attention, pressed against the front of my pants. I tried to repress my desires, ignoring the discomfort as I stepped into my side room, where my bathroom was. I closed the door behind me, reaching down to palm at my erection to ease the desire. A bolt of white hot pleasure shot through me as I stifled a groan. I didn't want to get into bed with Evelyn like this. It was too noticeable. One of two things would happen. One. She would notice, get really uncomfortable, but not say anything. That was the more likely outcome. I would feel incredibly guilty. I don't want her to feel uncomfortable with me regardless of who she is. I never want to be that man she would be afraid to be alone with. Two. Evelyn would notice, but get curious. I wouldn't put it past her to rub against me just to see what would happen. I don't think my dick could handle that. The temptation of her curious, wide eyes, and her greedy little hands. Fuck. Helplessly, I stepped to the furthest corner of the side room, back to the door. I unzipped my pants, releasing my cock. A quiet moan of relief left my lips as I stroked down the length of it. Once. Twice. My shoulders trembled. "Fuck." I bit my tongue, working myself up and down. Over and over again. A hot bead of pleasure formed under my skin, coiling and writhing within me. My hand wasn't enough. I didn't want my hand. With one hand stroking myself, the other pressed against the wall in front of me. I closed my eyes and I could imagine Evelyn's warm brown gaze. I visualized her hands, having to use both of them to accommodate my size. Her cheeks flushing. Her mouth salivating as she looked at me. I imagined her on her knees, debating whether she wanted to taste the arousal beading up at the crown of my cock. She would lean forward with an exploratory lap of her tongue before taking me into her hot mouth. Oh fuck. I craved her. I thought about all the dirty positions I could put her in and how eager she'd be to try. I groaned again, working myself faster, getting off on the idea of the princess bowing to me, wanting me. Goosebumps climbed up and down my body, tightening at the base of my cock. My balls drew up with an impending orgasm when I heard a small, feminine, gasp. I froze, cutting my pleasure off short. Evelyn said nothing, but I could hear her heavy breaths. That curious gaze on my back. I didn't turn around. I wanted her to watch me. I tightened my hand around my cock again. This time much slower. I could get myself off, but I wanted to give Evelyn a show. I groaned loudly, panting at the steady torture. Her breathing was quiet, but it quickened the longer I went. Suddenly, I heard a quiet whimper. A sigh. A gasp. A moan. Was Evelyn touching herself? A delirious shock of desire shot through me. Electricity hummed in my veins. I wanted to turn around. I wanted her to see how thick I was and how heavy my cock was for her soft little pussy. I wanted to see how wet her fingers were as she rubbed herself. But as soon as I turned around, Evelyn would run. It would mortify her. Then I would be robbed from her sounds. I wanted to listen to her get herself off for me. Watching me. Instead, curiosity turned me on even more. I thought about how she was touching herself. Was she flicking her swollen clit, or was she fucking herself with her fingers? Trying to get a feel of what it might be like if I were inside her. A deep throaty noise got stuck in my throat, and I stroked myself even faster, hearing Evelyn whimper from behind me as if she was trying to keep up. Yes, princess, use me. Get off on using me.