The Sorcerer's Revenge

Part 1

The chamber was dimly lit by flickering candles, their wax dripping onto the ancient stone floor. Shelves lined the walls, cluttered with vials of colorful potions that shimmered in the low light. The air was thick with the scent of herbs and mysterious concoctions, mingling with the musty aroma of old parchment. In the center of the room stood a large wooden table, its surface strewn with open magical tomes, their pages filled with arcane symbols and cryptic notes.

A cauldron bubbled over a small fire in the corner, emitting an eerie green glow. Nearby, an assortment of ingredients lay scattered—dried roots, crystal shards, and feathers from unknown creatures. The walls were adorned with tapestries depicting ancient spells and mythical beasts, their colors faded with age.

The sorcerer, Terryn Percivel, moved around his space with purpose, his robes sweeping the floor as he consulted a large, leather-bound grimoire. He muttered incantations under his breath, his fingers tracing the intricate patterns on the pages. 

The sorcerer, though young, possessed an air of wisdom and authority beyond his years. In his mid-20s, he stood tall and lean, his frame cloaked in flowing robes of deep indigo, embroidered with silver runes that seemed to shimmer with a life of their own. His dark hair was tousled, falling just above his shoulders, framing a face that was both sharp and refined. His eyes were a striking shade of emerald green, with high cheekbones and a strong jawline. His hands, often seen gracefully weaving spells in the air, were long-fingered and agile, marked with faint ink stains and small burns from countless hours of magical experimentation. He looked almost mad in his work as he flipped through the pages, the smoke coming from the cauldron a horrible smell. 

This was it. He was finally at the last part of his study. He had been researching this particular dark magic since he had become a sorcerer, a sort of sick fascination he couldn’t quite stop himself from obsessing over, and he was at the final step. His head was so deep in his work he didn’t hear the sounds of footsteps approaching as well as the definitive clicking sound of armor. 

The door creaked open slowly, and at the entrance of the chamber stood the princess, her figure silhouetted by the dim light. She was clad in light armor that gleamed faintly, the polished metal plates intricately engraved with delicate patterns that looked like it was designed just for her. A cape of deep crimson cascaded from her shoulders, adding a regal touch to her otherwise martial appearance.

Her expression was fierce, lips pressed into a thin line, and eyes narrowed in anger. Golden locks of hair, loosely tied back, framed her face, her sapphire-blue eyes locked onto the sorcerer, burning with a mix of betrayal and frustration.

She rested a hand on the hilt of a slender sword sheathed at her side, her fingers tapping impatiently against the pommel. The tension in her stance was palpable, every muscle taut as if ready to spring into action. Despite the fury in her gaze, there was an undeniable grace in the way she held herself, like she had years of being honed into who she was today. “Do you even know I’m here, Terryn?” She asked, her voice clipped and agitated. 

He broke out of his trance at once, and looked up at her. It was too late for him to stop what he was doing, but he hoped she wouldn’t know what she was staring at. It was forbidden, after all, and he was using the King’s money to fund all of his trails and experimentation. “Ah, yes. Princess Amarante, how may I help you this evening? Does the King need more of his daily dose of potion?” They were on a first name basis, mostly because they had grown up together, with him being an apprentice at the castle. 

“You don’t know why I’m here?” She replied, curt. “Surely, you must have some sort of idea.” 

He raised an eyebrow, and finally straightened his back to properly look at her. She did seem more agitated than he’d ever seen her. “No, I do not.”

“I know what you’re doing here,” she said, like it was all that was needed to explain herself.

His heart began pounding, but he didn’t move a muscle, not wanting to expose any of his thoughts to the intelligent woman standing in front of him. “And what, pray tell, am I doing here?” 

“You’re performing dark magic, that’s what. We pay you to devise ideas of how to help our people - spells to speed up the growth of crops - not to sit here and try to raise the dead!” Her voice became louder and louder as she spoke, and with the final word, his heart felt like it was stopping. She did know what he was doing. He shouldn’t have underestimated them. The King and Queen, they were foolishly trusting of him, especially knowing him since he was a child, but the Princess, she was very intelligent, beyond her years. Of course she was going to find out one day. It had just taken her so long he had become more and more relaxed every day, to the point where he wasn’t trying to hide it anymore. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. Maybe he’d be able to get out of this. If she believed him, even just for a few hours, he could take all of his belongings and leave this place. He didn’t know where he would go, since he infrequently left the castle, but he would have to do so. 

“Oh?” She said, “but while you were enjoying dinner last night, I took the liberty of taking this.” She fished into her pocket, and pulled out a pendant. One that glowed a sickly emerald green. 

He began frantically patting his pockets, until he looked at her and glared. “How did you get that?”

“I hired a thief. I wanted to make sure the pendant you were always carrying was precisely what I thought it was. I’ve read about it in a book, and the diagram looked exactly like the one you owned. I have been suspicious of you since.” He had purchased the pendant from a local market, the seller themselves had no idea what they were holding, but he knew what it was. It was the key to immortality, the essence swirling inside of it capable of lifting beings from the dead, and he wanted to use it on himself - over and over again. He was so close, but the damn brat princess had to get in the way like she always did. 

“That isn’t what you think it is,” he said. He was a good sorcerer, but not a very good liar, and he didn’t know how to get her to a point of distraction. 

She practically rolled her eyes at him, and pointed to him before yelling, “seize him!” Before he could react, two guards, both incredibly built and honed, both covered from head to toe with heavy armor, rushed into the room. They held him on both of his arms,stopping him from being able to exercise any spells without the ability to move them. He struggled against them, but they were the Princess’s personal guards, the best of the best, and there was nothing he could do to get away. 

He shifted his strategy from denial to pleading, “please, Princess. You’ve known me as a child. I would never do something to hurt the Kingdom. Someone must’ve placed the necklace on me so you would doubt me. They’re manipulating you.”

She shook her head, “I’ve always seen darkness in you, Terryn. I just didn’t know where to look. Until now.” 

“No… don’t do this… please…” he begged, and continued to struggle as the two guards dragged him from his chamber, not letting him even turn back to look at his sanctuary one last time before tossing him into the dungeons. 

He was alone in the chambers for a week. The dungeons were a grim and oppressive labyrinth of despair, one he’d only spied a few times in his life in the castle. His small cell, cold and damp, offered little comfort. The rough stone walls seemed to close in around him, and a single, narrow window high above let in a sliver of weak, flickering torchlight. The air was thick with the stench of mold and decay, mingling with the acrid smell of fear.

His thin mattress of straw did little to soften the hard, uneven floor, and the rusted iron bars of the cell door felt like an impenetrable barrier to freedom. A wooden bowl with a few scraps of stale bread and a small, dirty cup of water were all that sustained him, leaving him constantly hungry and parched.

The screams and pleas of other prisoners echoed through the dark corridors, and he questioned whether or not he should do the same, or if it was futile. The sounds of chains clinking, doors creaking open and shut, and the occasional harsh bark of a guard added to the cacophony, making him feel like he was going insane. His mind grappled with thoughts of escape and the magic he could no longer access. The manacles around him completely inhibited his ability to wield, and he had to salute the Princess for being so clever in his capture. She must’ve been thinking about it for quite some time.

She arrived after a week, a grim expression on her face. He despised her, so much more than the day she had captured him. She was now his eternal enemy, and when he escaped this cell, he would spend the rest of his life trying to get his revenge on her and this kingdom. “The court has discussed your punishment. I am quite sorry it took this long. I did not want you to have to be in such a state, even you don’t deserve to stay in the dungeon like this.”

“Don’t pity me, Princess,” he spat out. “Just tell me my sentence.”

She paused for a second, and he knew at once what his sentence was. “I see,” he said, without her having to say it out loud. “When?” 

“Tomorrow, at sunrise.”

He turned away from her, not wanting to see her face any longer. There was nothing he could say or hear from her that would change anything, and the more he looked at her, the more he was filled with disgust. She’d clearly never cared for him, not a single moment of his life. He didn’t know when she left, but he spent the rest of the evening awake, his mind spinning with ways he was going to escape. He had assumed he would be scared to die, but he was so confident in his brain, so confident in his hatred for her, that he knew he would be able to get out of this. He had to. 

She was being truthful. The next morning, two guards appeared at the door, different from the Princess’s personal two. The sorcerer winced as the two guards yanked him from his cell, their rough hands gripping his arms with iron strength. They dragged him through the narrow, dimly lit corridors of the dungeon, his feet stumbling over the uneven stone floor. The clinking of their armor and the heavy thud of their boots echoed ominously, blending with the distant wails of other prisoners left behind in the darkness.

Emerging into the harsh daylight outside the castle, Terryn squinted against the sudden brightness, his eyes adjusting to the open space of the courtyard. The air was filled with the murmurs and shouts of a large crowd, villagers gathered to witness the grim spectacle. He had hoped she would be kind enough to murder him in secret, and not throw him to the wolves, but it seemed she wouldn’t even give him an ounce of respect. 

His heart pounded as he took in the sight of the makeshift platform at the center of the courtyard, a stark symbol of his impending fate.

The villagers' faces were twisted with a mixture of anger and glee, and as the guards dragged him forward, the first piece of rotten fruit flew through the air, splattering against his chest. More followed—a barrage of spoiled vegetables and overripe fruit, pelting him with humiliating force. He’d never been to an execution himself. He had always found the idea of it distasteful - why would he want to watch someone being murdered, perhaps for something they were falsely being accused of? It was disgusting.

The Princess was there, but up from the balcony, staring at him with the same sick pity, one that he wanted to smear off of her face. He barely spared her a glance, not wanting to give her the pleasure of his attention.

Jeers and curses filled the air, the crowd's hostility a palpable wave of disdain. He wondered if they even knew what he was being hung for. The guards' grips tightened as they hauled him onto the platform, forcing him to his knees. This was it, this was the only chance he was going to have. He had snuck away a last piece of energy, deep inside of himself, right when the Princess had her guards wrap the manacles around him. He drew that energy out of himself now, bit by bit, until it was crackling on his skin. He closed his eyes and whispered an incantation, the words of power slipping through his lips like a secret prayer.

In an instant, the air around him crackled with energy, a shimmering aura enveloping his body. The villagers gasped and took a collective step back as the platform began to tremble. The sorcerer's eyes snapped open, glowing with an intense, otherworldly light. With a forceful gesture, he shattered the manacles binding his wrists, the metal exploding into fragments.

The guards lunged forward, but they were too late. With a wave of his hand, the sorcerer summoned a whirlwind of magical energy, lifting himself off the ground. The wind roared through the courtyard, whipping up dust and debris, blinding the onlookers. He ascended into the air, his robes billowing around him like the wings of a great bird.

As he hovered above the crowd, he raised his arms, and bolts of lightning arced from his fingertips, striking the ground around the platform and sending villagers scattering in panic. The executioner dropped his axe and fled, and the guards shielded their eyes from the blinding light.

With a final burst of energy, the sorcerer soared higher, the courtyard below shrinking rapidly. He cast one last glance at the astonished faces of the villagers before disappearing into the sky, a streak of light against the bright blue canvas. The courtyard fell silent, save for the whispers of disbelief and awe, as the sorcerer made his escape in a blaze of magical brilliance, only looking back for a second to spy the expression on the Princess’s face - a look of complete outrage. 

He was going to be back. He would be away from the Kingdom, to create his own life away from them, but he would be back, and she would pay for doing this to him.

Part 2

Three years had passed. Terryn had spent it from village to village, never calling a single place home. When the townspeople began becoming suspicious of him, of the incantations he spun deep in the night, or how he made money charging those in need for potions, he would move to the next. With the way his home had betrayed him, he never wanted to call another place home again. It was just too painful. 

Giving up on his quest for immortality, as the Princess had the necklace he needed to achieve it, he had moved onto something else - something he needed to finally take his revenge. He visited cities with large libraries he could frequent, and read up on the knowledge he needed to seek the artifact he wanted to use against her. 

Terryn’s journey to the ancient temple of Sinestra, one worshiping a dark Goddess of a forgotten civilization, was arduous, but the memory of the tome’s promise drove him forward. The tome, discovered in the depths of the library, spoke of a sacred temple hidden deep within the enchanted forest, where a single, mythical peach could bestow unimaginable powers upon those who dared seek it.

The temple loomed before him, its ancient stone walls entwined with thick vines and moss. It was a structure of forgotten majesty, with towering columns and intricate carvings that whispered of a long-lost civilization. It was so different from the world he knew, the world he was sequestered in. As Terryn approached, the massive wooden doors, weathered by centuries, creaked open as if welcoming him to his destiny.

Inside, the air was cool and filled with the scent of damp earth and incense. Faded murals adorned the walls, depicting legendary sorcerers and mythical creatures. Terryn moved cautiously, his eyes scanning the surroundings for any hidden traps or guardians. He had made sure his energy was full before he entered, for fear that he would have to fight something with magic to access what he needed. 

The main hall of the temple was vast, its high ceiling supported by grand pillars. At the far end, an altar of polished stone stood illuminated by a shaft of sunlight that broke through a crack in the ceiling. Upon the altar, resting on a delicate golden stand, was the peach.

It was unlike any fruit Terryn had ever seen, its skin glowing with a soft, ethereal light. He couldn’t believe no one had found it before him. It seemed so easy, almost too easy, like it was meant for him and him alone. The peach seemed to pulse with life, emitting a gentle hum that resonated deep within him. As he approached, he could feel the power emanating from it, a tangible force that made the hairs on his arms stand on end. He hesitated only for a heartbeat before bringing the peach to his lips and taking a bite.

The taste was indescribable, a burst of sweetness and warmth that filled him with an overwhelming sense of vitality. As he consumed the fruit, his body began to glow, the light from the peach merging with his own aura. He felt his powers expanding, growing more potent with each heartbeat. The temple seemed to hum in approval, its ancient magic acknowledging his newfound strength.

He only tested his new abilities a single time, on an unsuspecting villager, before heading back to his home. He was too eager, too excited, to wait any longer.

That night, he had teleported to the top of the castle tower, and stood in the shadows, watching the golden telescope sitting in the center of the room. The Princess emerged right when he knew she would, carrying a journal with her and a long quill. She had removed her usual armor, which was a rare sight, since she always liked to be ready for a fight, and was wearing a delicate matching set of white pajamas, covering most parts of her skin. 

He waved his hand, and an invisible wall appeared at the top of the staircase, entrapping her without her knowledge, and he watched as she worked. She rotated the knob of the device a few times, opened up her journal, which was filled with drawings of the stars, and began peering into it. When he knew he would shock her the most, he stepped out of the shadows. “Hello, Princess,” he said, his voice low and calm.

She gasped and stepped back, dropping her journal onto the floor. “Terryn? Is that you?”

“It is,” he said. “Did you miss me?”

She looked at her exit, then back at him. He knew she would be calculative of the whole thing. That’s exactly what he wanted. “I… what are you doing here?” She said, her voice firm.

“I’ve come to seek my revenge,” he said. “I told you I would, and here I am.”

“I thought you were dead,” she replied honestly. “We had sent so many assassins to search for you… no one had heard of your whereabouts, only rumors of a sorcerer, but you were never there.” 

“I was always moving…” he admitted. “But that’s not what’s important right now.”

“You’re here to kill me?” She asked, looking like she wasn’t nervous at all. Maybe she thought she’d be able to take him. She did have many more years of physical training compared to him.

“No, I thought I would do something worse. And something that I’ve always wanted to do to you,” he said. She didn’t seem like she really heard him, because she shot across the room, so fast he could barely see her, aiming for the exit. She hit face first into his invisible wall, and fell to the ground.

“I’ve underestimated you once. Never again,” he said. She glared at him, the same expression on her face as the day she had caught him red handed. 

He blinked, only once, and said, “I think you should strip for me.”

She laughed, out loud, and he almost thought the magic of the Goddess had failed for a second before she stood up and began taking off her clothes. “Wait.. wait… what did you do to me?” She said, her voice frantic as she pulled her pants down, exposing her long and perfect legs. His heart began pounding. He had imagined her naked so many times over the years, but he’d barely ever seen an inch of her skin. He had assumed her legs would be muscular and tough from all the training, but it seemed she was still a woman under her tough exterior, one with beautiful soft looking legs. 

“I sought out magic to control you, and that’s exactly what I’m doing,” he replied. There was no point in lying to her now, there was nothing she could do except listen to his commands. 

She pulled her shirt off next, lifting it over her body and tossing it down onto the ground. Her face was filled with a mix of outrage and disgust, and he told her to pause, just so he could stare at her form. Gods, she was absolutely lovely, the perfect curvy body with breasts that he wanted to suck deeply into his mouth. “Your breast covering next,” he commanded.

She shook her head, “please, don’t do this…” It sounded so much like the words that came out of his lips years ago that he was filled with a sense of sadistic pleasure.

“Isn’t that what I said? Before you tried to kill me?” She removed her covering, the fabric dropping to the floor. Her breasts were released from their confines, and were even larger than he had imagined. Her nipples were hard under the cold air of the night, and as she tried to cover it up so he couldn’t stare, he stopped her at once. “I want to see all of you. Don’t you dare cover yourself. Now, the rest of it,” he said, staring at her panties.

Tears began welling in her eyes, which was shocking to him, knowing how confident and ruthless she was in the battlefield as the commander of the King’s army. Who knew she was such an innocent girl under all of it? She wrapped her hands around her panties and pulled them slowly down, making herself completely naked for him. Her pussy looked so innocent, covered with a thin layer of well groomed hair, and like no one had ever touched it. She stood there naked, looking at him, almost like she was wondering what he was going to do next.

His cock was already rock hard, and so he walked up to her, making sure to tell her to freeze so she wouldn’t try to bang her head against the wall or jump off the tower. “On your knees,” he said. She was almost shaking as she fell to the floor. “Take off my trousers.” She did so, her hands moving up slowly as she grasped his pants, slowly pulling them down. His cock sprang out from within, freeing itself, and she stared at it with a mix of curiosity and disgust. “I assume from that expression you’ve never seen a cock before…”

She shook her head. “Do you know what to do with it?” He asked, knowing that the wealthy, particularly a Princess, would’ve been very sheltered in her upbringing. She shook her head again. “Wrap your hand around it,” he said, then added, “gently.” She did so, and he said, “I want you to tell me your thoughts out loud.”

“It’s disgusting,” she said. “I can smell it… and it feels… really hot.” She tried to seal her lips, but the words kept tumbling out. “Stop this, please. I feel so embarrassed. Have some sort of mercy.” 

“You never gave me any mercy. Now stroke it, particularly squeezing at the tip, then back down again.” She stroked up and down, and he told her to look into his eyes as she did. It felt so fucking good to have her fingers around him, just as he’s imagined. He’s been with women before, but hadn’t in almost a year with his new obsession with his newfound powers, and it felt so tantalizing to have someone else touching his cock. “Now, put your mouth around it.” He knew from his research that the more headstrong the woman, the more she could try to resist his control, and she seemed to do so now, her head jerking back with each movement forward. The magic was too powerful, though, and she ended up wrapping her mouth around the head. “Don’t bite down, try to create more saliva, move your head up and down, your mouth engulfing my entire cock as you feel it down your throat. Use your tongue to swirl around the head. If you had a gag reflex, it is no longer there.” The tears formed in her eyes once more as she began sucking his cock. He felt it move past her delicious tongue all the way into her throat as she took him in fully. He groaned, and pushed his fingers into her hair. Of course, he had thought of this plan many times, and knew that the best way to make her hate herself and break fully was to force her to actually enjoy herself. “With each movement of your head, I want you to get wetter and wetter. I want your pussy to pulse with need, and your skin to get so sensitive that even a breath can make you shiver…”

She continued to suck on him, but he paid full attention to her expression. She was shivering even more now, and he could see the beading of sweat on her skin. He reached down and stroked her cheek, touching the surface of it almost delicately, and she closed her eyes, like she was trying her hardest not to feel it. “Move your hand in between your legs, and feel just how wet you are. Pause your sucking, and tell me what you’re thinking.”

She did so, moving her hand in between her legs and pressing down on it. Feeling frustrated that he couldn’t see it properly, he conjured a bed and told her to climb onto it. She opened her legs wide, and he could see her pink puffy lips and the wetness. “Look how turned on you are… look how much you need it…” 

She shook her head, glaring at me, “only because you forced it upon me.”

“Have you touched yourself before?” He asked her, ignoring her words.

She braced, paused, fighting it, but eventually said, “yes.”

“What did you think about?” 

“A soldier, one under my command.”

“I want it to be me in your mind from now on. You’ll only ever be able to think about me. I want to be the only man that’ll ever be able to make you cum.” She quivered, and he told her to touch herself like she did, when she used to think about the soldier. She wasn’t very good at it, and it was clear she didn’t do so very often. Her fingers traced her skin and touched the top of her clit, and she began making circling motions. “Is that what feels good?” He asked. 

“It feels good,” she replied, his previous command for her to speak her mind still active. 

“I don’t want you to cum. You can’t do so without my cock deep inside of you. Only I can make you cum. Do you understand?” He asked. He was so turned on now it was impossible not to touch his own cock. All of his fantasies were coming to life. He stroked himself as he watched her play with her clit.

“I don’t want to do this, Terryn. I know you’re a good man. Please…” 

He pushed two fingers inside of her pussy, arching it upwards, and matched it to the tempo of her clit play. Together, they pushed her higher and higher, and he could tell she was almost at the edge, about to cum. She worked herself faster and faster, and he watched the precise moment she would’ve came, but nothing happened. She gasped and shook, and kept touching herself, but tears of frustration formed in her eyes. “What’s wrong, Princess?” 

“I can’t… I can’t…” she whined.

“You can’t what?”

“I was about to…” she groaned, still frantically touching herself, forcing her to the edge one more time, building onto the need. “Please…”

“Please what? Do you want me to let you cum? Or do you want me to let you go?” He asked cruelly. 

“Let me go,” she replied, the warrior still within her.

“If I let you go, I’ll leave you like this. Constantly needy, constantly wet, always thinking only of me in your mind, never being able to cum without me. Do you still want me to let you go?” 

She gasped, reaching the edge of orgasm one more time. “Terryn…” It felt so sweet hearing his name on her lips, especially when she was so desperate. He continued to fuck her with his fingers, and was proud of himself for not using his cock, because she was so damned puffy, and it would be so easy for him to slide inside. 

“Let me ask you again. What do you want, Princess?”

“To cum. Please. Please make me cum, Oh gods!” For a fifth time, the orgasm eluded her. He knew the build up of need would probably break her mind and soul, which was why he had planned this in the first place, though the satisfaction of torturing her was also wonderful to watch. 

He climbed onto the bed, and forced her to stare into his eyes. He aligned his cock against her entrance, telling her to stop touching her clit. “When I enter you for the first time, I want all of the orgasms you’ve held back to release at once.” He didn’t even let her think through the command, he pushed his cock inside of her, and she screamed. Her body came, all of the missed orgasms crashing down on her at the same time. She clawed at the bedsheets, her nails digging inside as her back arched completely off the bed. He began fucking her with wild abandonment, as fast as he possibly could, and could feel her pussy milk him over and over as she rode her orgasm, so much so it was hard to stop himself from cumming. She was so fucking tight, so wet, so puffy, and so much more fluid shot out of her when she came, soaking the bed he had teleported to them. 

When she opened her eyes, she seemed almost lost, like he had broken her, but he knew it would take much more to break someone so headstrong. “Are you enjoying my cock, Princess?”

“I hate you,” she said, “I hate you so much.”

“Answer my question.”

“It feels so good… it feels so good. I can’t think properly. Oh my god.” Her voice came out jumbled as she panted and moaned with each stroke. He bent her legs back as far as he could, getting her as deep as possible. 

“Your nipples are now as sensitive as your pussy, so much so that you can cum from my mouth around them,” he said, before wrapping his mouth around one of them and sucking greedily. 

“Please… oh please… oh gods!” She cried out, and came one more time. Her pussy squeezed around his cock over and over again, and she slumped down when she finished, “it’s so sensitive. Everything is so sensitive. Please…” 

“You keep saying please, but I don’t know what you want,” he said, almost chuckling to himself. He didn’t know how much more he could take. He was enjoying tormenting her, but he needed to cum himself. Badly. “Everytime I cum inside of you from now on, I want you to feel intense pleasure, like it’s the nutrient your body’s always needed.” He pinched one of her nipples and wrapped his mouth around the other again, forcing her to cum once more. This was too much for him, he fucked her even harder, and he could feel his balls tighten as he groaned. He forced her to look at him as he came inside of her, and the pleasure of it made her lose herself once more as she screamed his name over and over, her pussy wrapping his cock like it wanted to take as much of his cum inside of her as it could. 

He pulled out and climbed off the bed when he was finished, and gave her some final commands. She was not allowed to clean herself up. He wanted her to be dripping his cum for the rest of the day. She was also never allowed to tell anyone about this or plan to stop him in any way. She would be horny all the time, always wet, her skin so sensitive that even her clothes rubbing against her would be maddening. He was going to come back for her, as many times as it was needed for her to break and be his completely. 

“Come, give me a kiss before the sun rises.” She could barely push herself up with how utterly spent she was. He knew she’d never in her life had more than one orgasm, let alone how many he had forced upon her. She pressed her lips against his, a tight firm peck, and he vanished, disappearing just as he appeared, knowing he would be back for her before long.