The Nymph Wants to be Plundered - Chapter 41
A low, approving hum vibrated in his throat.
“Evelyn… how did you endure it?” His voice was rough, thumb circling the aching bud just hard enough to make her hips jerk. “Nike’s performance was agonizingly long. And you sat there… legs trembling, trying not to squirm… while this sweet little c**t wept for me, didn’t it?”
She looked utterly wrecked—like a blossom forced open too soon, petals quivering under a storm. Her eyes were glazed, lips parted around shallow gasps, body arched helplessly against the chair. So fragile. So his.
He could wait forever, watching her unravel.
“I-I…” Her voice was a broken whisper. “You only… held me. You didn’t… t-touch me like… this…”
“If I’d known,” he mused, dragging a fingertip along her slit, “I would’ve had you dripping down my fingers in front of the entire court.”
The thought should have satisfied him. Instead, it coiled something dark and possessive in his gut.
Because she hadn’t been his from the start.
What if—?
The questions slithered like poison.
What if she hadn’t transformed that night?
What if he’d tossed aside the crown like the worthless burden it was?
What if he’d ignored the report of a surviving nymph—just another triviality beneath his notice?
She would’ve been erased. A single line in some clerk’s ledger: Nymph birthed. Nymph deceased. No name. No Evelyn.
The fury was sudden, violent. His fingers dug into her thigh, his other hand pressing hard against her c**t—claiming, punishing—as if he could brand himself into her flesh.
Mine.
“You held back so prettily,” he murmured, “but this greedy little body betrays you.” A slow, cruel stroke through her folds, gathering the evidence of her shame. “Look at how wet you are. You’d have come just from the friction of my robes, wouldn’t you?”
She sobbed, thighs straining—not to close, but to open wider.
Perfect.
“F**k—! Ah…! N-no—!”
Her thighs spasmed shut, a weak attempt to escape the ruthless intrusion of his fingers—only to force him deeper, the thick press of his knuckles stretching her in a way that made her gasp. A dark laugh rumbled from Cassis’ chest as her body betrayed her, clenching around him like a greedy little thing.
“That’s it. Squeeze me tighter.” His voice was a rough growl, fingers crooking just so, dragging against that spongy spot inside her until her hips jerked. “You’re already dripping down my wrist.”
“I’m n-not—!” A broken moan tore from her throat as he twisted his hand, the heel of his palm grinding against her c**t with deliberate, bruising pressure.
“Liar.” His free hand fisted in her hair, yanking her head back. “You’ve been aching for this since I pinned you to that chair. Since you fucking whimpered when I touched you.”
She couldn’t deny it—not when her body arched like a bowstring, not when every ragged breath sounded like a plea. His fingers pistoned into her, relentless, the obscene wet noise of her arousal filling the room.
“Look at you,” he snarled, “taking my fingers like you were made for it. Could’ve fucked you right there in the library—should’ve. Would’ve bent you over the damn desk and made you scream.”
Her nails scraped helplessly at the armrests, her vision whiting out as the coil in her belly pulled taut—
Then his thumb pressed down hard on her c**t, and she shattered.
“Ah! F**k—!”
The soaked underwear peeled away with an obscene squelch, clinging lewdly to her swollen folds before finally releasing. Her arousal had drenched the fabric so thoroughly it left glistening trails down her thighs as he tore it aside. His fingers slid through her slickness with possessive familiarity.
“Christ,” he muttered darkly, admiring his handiwork before suddenly—
His mouth crashed onto the delicate arch of her foot, tongue laving a hot stripe upward. She jerked against the chair, a broken whimper escaping her throat.
“Cassis—! God, please—!”
“Mm. Still not trembling here,” he mused against her ankle before biting the tender flesh. “We’ll fix that.”
In one brutal motion, he wrenched her upright and forced her knees apart. Her hands scrambled for purchase on the armrests until he peeled them away one by one, forcing her to grip her own thighs – making her hold herself open for him like some cheap w***e.
The realization punched through her: he meant to feast on her c**t right there in the chair. Shame and desperate need warred as another rush of wetness betrayed her. The scent of her arousal hung thick between them.
“Look at you,” he growled, drinking in the sight of her glistening pink folds, swollen and twitching. “Dripping like some common tavern s**t.”
When his tongue finally stabbed between her lips, it wasn’t gentle. He fucked her with his mouth – rough, open-mouthed kisses to her c**t before spearing deep to taste her properly. The obscene wet sounds filled the room as her hips canted upward, her body overriding her mind’s protests.
“F**k! Right—right there!” Her fingers tangled in his hair, nails scraping his scalp as he worked her over with ruthless precision. Every flick of his tongue, every suck at her c**t pushed her closer to that sweet oblivion.
The bastard knew exactly what he was doing.
“Hahh… f**k—”
His exhale scalded her exposed c**t, the humid breath making her sparse curls cling to glistening skin. As her throat flushed scarlet, he buried his face completely between her thighs—no pretense, no mercy. Evelyn’s nails carved half-moons into the armrests when she understood. That wicked mouth wasn’t just going to tease—it would devour.
“Nngh! God—! Don’t—don’t lick my—ah! Fu—!ah!”
Lie. He’d planned this. The bastard had always planned to ruin her like this—to spread her dripping p***y open with those skilled fingers and eat until she sobbed. His tongue dragged a slow, filthy stripe up her slit, pausing to circle her c**t with obscene precision. The vibration of his chuckle against her swollen flesh sent lightning down her spine.
“Cass—please—!”
“Begging already?” His teeth grazed her inner thigh. “I’ve barely started.”
When he snapped his fingers, firelight erupted across the study—illuminating every shameful detail: her flushed chest heaving, his broad shoulders forcing her thighs wider, the disgusting wet sounds as his tongue fucked into her.
She tried to clamp her legs shut—useless. His thumbs spread her lips wider, exposing her throbbing c**t to another ruthless lick. “Look at you,” he growled at her c**t. “Dripping just from my tongue. Imagine how you’ll scream when I finally f**k you.”
