Broken Dove (Fantasyland #4)(117)
Author: Kristen Ashley

Apollo fell asleep before me.

And when I slept, I dreamed of wolves, black mist and disembodied beaks pecking at me.

Thus I woke up fatigued and restless. And even waking with Apollo’s hands moving on me, knowing all around me were special, adventurers and Raiders, warriors and warrior queens, lovers with interconnected souls, soldiers who commanded wolves…and then there was me, I woke still feeling empty.

* * * * *

Five evenings later, I had one hand to the headboard, one hand between my legs and both of Apollo’s hands at my br**sts, rolling and tugging my ni**les.

Apollo was f**king my ass.

And, believe it or not, I loved it.

Every freaking stroke.

“Baby,” I breathed.

He kept f**king me. “Do not cl**ax, Madeleine.”

“Honey, I’m about—”

He stroked in, filling me, a strange and brilliant feeling, especially since it came after he made me lie still while he touched me, then spanked me while he f**ked me normally, then he oiled me and finally, when I was primed, slowly took me.

He tugged on my ni**les. “You cl**ax at my command.”

Oh God. That was hot.

“I’ll try,” I gasped.

He started stroking again. “This is all I ask, poppy.”

He kept going and I kept moaning, touching myself, struggling to hold back my orgasm. The fight was making my muscles quiver and my fingers that were wrapped around the headboard dug in so hard I thought I’d break it with my hand.

“So beautiful,” he grunted, plunging in.

God.

“So beautiful, Maddie,” he rumbled. “Gods, I wish you could watch you taking me.”

God!

He stroked in and pulled out, declaring in a thick voice, “We’ll get a mirror.”

“Baby,” I whimpered, his words driving me to the edge and I wasn’t going to be able to hold it.

He knew it and ordered gruffly, “Take me yourself, poppy, then take yourself there.”

He’d slid out. I only had the tip so I pushed back, taking him at the same time coming apart as my orgasm shook through me.

When it did, Apollo hauled us down the bed and pressed in so I was on my belly, all of this with me still taking him. As my orgasm continued to shudder through me, he kept f**king me before he pulled out and I heard his deep groans. I knew he’d slid off the sheath he’d put on when I felt him come on my ass.

So.

Totally.

Hot.

“Arse up for me, dove,” he murmured after he’d lifted his weight from me, and I shivered as I slid my knees up under me.

He rubbed his “seed” into my delightfully sore ass and I closed my eyes, my thighs quivering as the intimacy of that, the sexiness poured over me making me warm and hot again, all at once.

His thumb slid between my cheeks, coming to rest lightly on my anus and he whispered, “Okay?”

“Totally,” I whispered back.

I felt his hand curl around my hip, fingers digging in in an affectionate squeeze, as his thumb did some soothing circling. Then his hands left me, only for him to come back with a cloth. He wiped himself from me, the cloth was gone and his hands were back, gently moving me so I was on my back and he was between my legs.

Then he surprised me by bending and kissing my belly and as he was sliding down the bed, his eyes came to mine and he murmured, “Rest, my dove. You giving me that deserves a reward.”

The minute he was done saying that, he draped my legs over his shoulders, dipped his head and gently, slowly, amazingly, beautifully ate me until I came again, my legs pressing into his shoulders, my heels in his back, my cries quiet but forceful.

By the time I came down from that one, I found myself on top of him, one of his arms wrapped tight around my back, the other hand cupped on my bottom, the tips of his fingers pressed into the inside curve of my cheek, soothing, claiming, possessive.

I closed my eyes.

“Did you like that, honey?” I murmured.

“You’re very tight,” he replied, his fingers giving me a squeeze.

I decided to take that as a yes.

He wasn’t done.

“I want you facing a mirror, arse up, shoulders down, cl**axing for me while you watch me move in your arse,” he went on.

I swallowed an excited noise at his words.

He still wasn’t done.

“But I prefer what’s between your legs. It’s wetter, sweeter, I can look into your eyes when I’m taking it and I can take it hard. And when you cl**ax, it spasms, milking me of my seed in a way I like very much.” His arm and hand at my ass gave me a squeeze. “Very much.”

That was hot, what we just did, and I loved it.

But I had to admit, I was glad he preferred “taking” my normal girl parts mostly because he liked looking into my eyes when he was doing it.

His hold again tightened. “Now all of you knows the stroke of my cock.” His voice lowered. “This is a gift, Maddie. One I cherish. Thank you for giving it to me.”

He thought it was a gift.

Suddenly, as they had time and again since she’d said them, that detestable woman’s words slid through my head and I squeezed my closed eyes tighter.

And you? The woman who uses a dead wife’s charms to enchant her heartbroken husband so she can warm his bed in order to wear his jewels and earn her place on his arm? Is the world richer for your presence?

The answer to her question was, no. It was not.

This world or my old one, neither of them was richer for my presence. I’d done nothing kind. Nothing thoughtful. Nothing witty or smart. Nothing brave.

Nothing at all.

This is us, my dove.

Apollo had said that to me when I’d taken his c**k that same night.

He was right too.

This was us.

This was what I could give him. All I could give him.

He could give me clothes. Jewels. Beautiful houses. Fancy sleighs. Trips to balls where intrigue was happening. A home. Laughter. Safety. Kindness. Good friends.

Children.

I could give him my ass. My body. My cunt.

I could not be Ilsa. I could not do anything, have another purpose, give him more in any other way. I could not replace what he lost with her, something he’d gone out of his way to find again when he brought me to this world.

And this was good. Apollo didn’t want me to be Ilsa.

But he did want this.

And I had this to give.

So I was going to give it to him.

I was giving it to him because he wanted it. I was giving it to him because I wanted him to have everything he wanted.

And I was giving it to him because it was all I had.