Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 282: Against Gravity II *

Chapter 282: Against Gravity II *

"You bastard!" Daphne hotly yelled, her face flushed red. She couldn’t even tell if it was embarrassment, anger, lust, or an unholy mix of all three. All she knew was that Atticus’s coy smiles and subtle teases left trails of fire all over her skin.

He was going to burn her alive and she would still gladly let his flames consume her.

His strong hands came to her buttcheeks, grabbing them with a slight squeeze, an action that caused Daphne to jolt a little. The slight bit of movement — paired with how closely they were positioned right next to each other — caused her to rub herself against the tent in his trousers.

That brief bit of friction caused her to hiss out in pleasure, whining when the fabric was no longer rubbing against her skin.

"If only you could see your reflection now," Atticus commented, smirking.

With one hand still on her ass, the other came to the front. At long last, his finger pressed on the small bud, causing Daphne to gasp as she threw her head back. One touch and she felt as though she was ready to come undone.

If only. Atticus wouldn’t let her off so quickly.

"Oh... Atticus..."

"Yes, baby?" He hummed, his eyes half-hooded as he watched Daphne. She was immersed in pleasure, a little too far gone to even remember she was supposed to be annoyed with him.

Gently, he began to rub circles around her clit, moving his thumb rhythmically. Her breaths grew heavier and heavier when he applied a bit more pressure. Within moments, she was already instinctively pushing herself against his touch.

The moment her breathing became inconsistent and showed signs of growing erratic, Atticus inserted his middle finger into her. There was already enough moisture, allowing him to slip in with one smooth motion. Inside, his finger stroked the uneven walls, hooking up to press against a particular spot on her inner walls.

Just as he had hoped, Daphne mewled out in delight. Her eyes rolled back as she started to grind against his touch. He didn’t disappoint as well, working both his fingers to ensure constant stimulation on both sensitive areas.

When her body tensed up, Atticus knew that she was close to the edge. That was when he pulled his finger out, a wet trail of her nectar sticking onto his finger before he moved his hand to brace her butt.

The second departure of his finger left Daphne empty inside. She squeezed, her entrance gaping and closing as her body desperately tried to chase after the sensation it had worked so hard to build. Yet, it slipped away like snow in summer, melting into nothing but a drooling puddle beneath her.

"Atticus!" she whined. Her voice, however, was heavily ridden with ardor. "Again?"

This wasn’t the first time he had pulled this trick on her. Damn him. Damn him and his perfect timing. Damn him and the way he knew how to tease her best.

Daphne felt like she was a bird that was promised to soar, yet had only miserably landed flat on the ground. Every second wasted was yet another step she felt her ecstasy slip from her grasp.

Her final straw came when Atticus merely chuckled, the glint in his eyes looking a little too sadistic for Daphne’s liking.

He was supposed to be making amends — though at this point, she could barely remember what for, only that he needed to — and yet he was making a fool of her!

"You seem to need a little help," Daphne said through gritted teeth.

She huffed in indignation and her earrings glowed. She placed her hand on her husband’s crotch, burning the material of his pants to crisp before he could even react.

Atticus let out a yelp in surprise, though his hands remained steadily holding Daphne in place, supported by magic. Now that the entire front of his trousers had been burned away, his member sprung free. If Daphne had used even a little bit more force, she might’ve directly castrated him then and there.

"For goodness sake, Daphne, you nearly―"

"Shush." She leaned in, pressing her lips against Atticus’s. It effectively cut his sentence off and he soon forgot about what he had wanted to say. It was nice to use his own tactics against him when it came to the battle of love. "You talk too much."

Even without guiding hands, Atticus’s member was rigid and rock hard. With the way they were positioned, his tip kept rubbing against Daphne’s entrance, further lubricated by the flow of honey her body created. The sensation had both of them groaning and throwing their heads back, their lips parting as uncontrolled moans tore through their throats.

Daphne’s repeated clenching was an additional source of stimulation for his tip. Atticus felt as though he was about to be driven mad. One look at his wife and he knew she was the same.

Just as he pushed forward, Daphne leaned her bottom half closer in as well, followed by the rest of her body. They were plastered right against one another, allowing his cock to slip right through and into her folds. It poked and prodded at all the right places on the inside, filling out the empty feeling that had been eating away at her.

Likewise, the ridges and bumps of her walls caused Atticus to hiss out in pleasure. If he hadn’t held himself back, he might’ve just released from just putting it in. Every inch of Daphne felt like a drug― every second he touched her was another dose administered straight into his brain.

His fingers clamped down on her behind, squeezing her cheeks as his nails dug into her skin. It hadn’t been enough to draw blood, obviously, but the pain added to the pleasure Daphne was feeling.

She breathed out in bliss, rocking her hips to match the tempo that Atticus was going at. Whenever he pushed back in, she made sure to tighten up. It caused his length to rub against her walls with added pressure, intensifying the sensation.

At this rate, Atticus wasn’t going to last much longer. He prepared to pull out.

"I am going to―"

"In me," Daphne breathed out, her voice ragged and hoarse. "Do it in me."

"Fuck."

With such clear instructions from Daphne, there wasn’t anything else Atticus could do but to obey. Paired with a groan came his release. Atticus pumped through, his thrusts harder and erratic, pressing Daphne hard against the wall as he rammed his cock as far in as he could.

She cried out, her legs shaking in pleasure as her own release crashed down on her like a tidal wave. When Atticus’s movements slowed, she locked her ankles behind his back, using all the strength she had left to push him as far in her as she could.

Atticus merely grunted out, gasping harshly as his hips knocked against hers. He was so deeply wedged in her that every burst of his release could be felt by her intensely.

Even after they had come down from their climax, their shoulders still rose and fell due to their heavy breaths. One look and both could tell― there was nothing left in the other’s eyes except for carnal desire and animalistic lust. Even when a bit of white dribbled down from where their bodies connected onto the floor, they didn’t care to look twice.

"That one didn’t count," Daphne said, her mouth dry. She swallowed once. "I had to remove your pants for you even though you’re supposed to do the work."

"Apologies, Your Highness," Atticus said, his lips curving into a wicked grin. "Shall I attempt again?"

No words were needed. Daphne simply moved forward, smashing her lips against his, kissing him like the world was going to end and Atticus was her only salvation.