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Ebony Rising: (The Raven Queen's Harem Part 2) by Angel Lawson (6)

 

Chapter 9

Dylan

The edge in Morgan’s voice—the commanding tone—snaps me to attention.

I sit. I wait. I watch.

She stands before me, hair curly and wild, in the tiniest slip of a dress. A black bow holds it all together in the back and I nearly yanked it off the minute she stepped in the room.

I’d been honest with her. Every word I said was the absolute truth. I’m terrified of my reaction to her. There’s no chance I’d take it easy on her. No fucking way I’d be gentle. And although I can push back it would be disrespectful to flat out tell her no.  When it comes to the displacement of the Darkness, I have no greater obligation. She’s my Queen and I’m here to serve her.

Morgan approaches me, her dark eyes lit with determination. Resting her palms on the arms of my chair she leans over, giving me an exquisite view of her ample breasts, and whispers next to my lips, “You may be afraid of yourself, Dylan, but I’m not. I think you’re tense and need a little release.”

My cock is already hard. It’s been hard for weeks now, listening to Morgan work her way through the men in the house. Every kiss, every touch. Christ, the orgasms. I don’t know about the other guardians but when she unravels, I lose time. My body freezes as she channels all her energy into that one final explosion.

I look into her eyes. “I’m at your mercy, Morgan.”

She smiles and hovers her mouth over mine. My lips ache, wanting to touch hers, and just when I think I’m going to lose control she kisses me, soft and seductive.

Then she hikes up her skirt and climbs on my lap.

My reaction is a hiss and I grit my teeth. Her eyes widen for a brief moment but narrow once she realizes the reason for my reaction. She presses down with the core of her body, fitting my twitching cock against the miniscule slip of silk fabric separating our flesh.

“You’re strong, Dylan. More than the others. You’re the glue holding this whole thing together. I get that.” Her lips sear against my throat and her fingers unbutton my shirt. Her fingers are cool against my hot skin and the scrape of her nails down my chest and over my nipples lights a fire in my groin. She licks my mouth. “But you deserve to let go. Enjoy yourself.” She swallows. “Enjoy me.”

She pushes me back into the leather cushion and slides down my body. I regret the heat from her core leaving my cock but her hands move to the buttons on my pants. She unfastens them with graceful ease. I lift my hips and watch her tug them down, removing them entirely. My fully erect cock springs from between my legs, aching with unparalleled desire as she inches her hands up my thighs.

I can tell she doesn’t plan on making this quick and easy. No, the determination in her eyes implies she’s committed to a deeper connection than just getting me off.  As her lips explore the muscles below my hips, I reach for the ribbon behind her back and yank. The bow slips, loosening the straps of her dress. She stands and it falls to the ground in a pool of fabric by her feet. The silver charm at her neck glints against her skin.

My cock pulses at the sight of her. My heart hammers against my chest. She’s beautiful. Her breasts are perfect and her hips swell with a sensuous curve. Her ass is round and fleshy. My hands fist, fighting to stay off of her and let her maintain control. I eye the perfect brown of her nipples, the hard peaks that confirm her excitement. I smell the musky scent of want between her legs—even through her black lace panties.

“Lean back,” she tells me.

I jut my chin and comply, sliding down so my cock waves between us like a surrendering flag. My position brings a smile to Morgan’s puffy, pink lips. Seeing me in a state of relaxed submission with my belly exposed and vulnerable assets in the air give her all the power. Just because she’s on her knees does not mean she’s servicing me. No. It’s clear the roles are reversed. She owns me right now.

And I’m two seconds from begging her for more.

She saves me from doing it, cupping my balls with her cool, delicate hand. My body seizes. Her grin grows and I watch through hooded eyes as her hand moves up the rod-hard shaft and her tongue wets her lips.

She leans forward, her breasts pressed against my knees. Her thumb swirls against the tip of my cock, spreading the slippery cum down the sides. Unable to withstand it any longer, I reach for her. Her hair, her cheeks.

Together we guide her mouth down the hard warmth and I exhale, shuddering out the tension and desire I’ve carried for weeks and weeks.

Up and down her head bobs, and I weave one hand into her curly locks and another cups the heavy weight of her breast. She’s done this before, with Damien, gifting him with the pleasure of her mouth.

My excitement grows and my hips rise to meet her mouth and she braces herself accordingly. Leaning back so I can see her whole body. Her pert nipples. The dip of her lower belly.

“Fuck,” I growl at the tightening in my balls. I want it to last forever. I want to bury my face in her hair, sleep with my hands wrapped around her body.

To my surprise she pulls her mouth away but continues to use her hands, slip-sliding up and down my cock. “Give me your light. The goodness,” she cries and I realize what she wants me to do.

With a guttural moan I come, chanting her name with each thrust. Cum flows from my cock, coating her body in thick, hot spurts. My head spins. My balls ache. My breath comes raggedly. For a brief moment I’m back in the sky, soaring amongst the clouds, while my girl waits for me below.

I blink and fall back against the cushion, spent of every ounce. I watch through the haze of ecstasy as Morgan uses her free hand and rubs her fingers in the slick goo.

“What the hell?” I say, narrowing my eyes as the runes reveal themselves, glimmering and glinting on her breasts and stomach.

She looks down and back up. Her eyes shine bright. “Withholding on me doesn’t make me stronger, Dylan. Each one of you has to do your part. I respect your concerns over my body but you can’t shy away from your duty.”

There’s no fight in me anymore. She’s proven her point. I’m not the one in control here. I tug her off her knees and into my lap. We’re both sticky and her body shines like the sun. I bring her mouth to mine and kiss her passionately, sharing the source of energy that courses between us all.

She pulls back and says, “I was wrong about one thing.”

I push a curl of hair off her cheek. “What’s that?”

“You didn’t need a little release.” Her hand rests on my shoulder. “You needed a big one.”

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