Celaena spread her legs wider on the stone throne, the cold biting her bare ass while Rowan’s cock slammed into her from below. “Fuck, yes,” she hissed, nails digging into his shoulders. “Harder, you bastard. Ruin me on this fucking chair.”
Rowan growled, one hand fisting her hair, yanking her head back so he could bite the side of her throat. His hips snapped up, thick length stretching her cunt open with every brutal thrust. Wet sounds filled the empty throne room—skin slapping skin, her slick dripping down his balls. “You’re dripping all over the queen’s seat, girl. Filthy little assassin.”
She laughed, breathless, then moaned when his free hand found her clit and rubbed it in rough circles. “That’s the point. I want to come all over it. Want to leave my scent here so every lord who sits here later knows I got fucked stupid on it first.”
Rowan’s eyes flashed with that feral Fae hunger. He stood, still buried inside her, and slammed her back against the high back of the throne. The impact knocked the air from her lungs. He fucked her standing, lifting her like she weighed nothing, driving up into her soaked pussy with punishing force. Her tits bounced with every thrust; he leaned in and sucked one nipple hard, teeth grazing, then biting until she cried out.
“More,” she demanded, voice ragged. “Make it hurt. I want to feel you tomorrow when I’m pretending to be civilized.”
He dropped her onto the seat again, spun her around, and bent her over the armrest. One big hand pressed between her shoulder blades, pinning her down. The other spread her cheeks. He spat on her asshole, rubbed the head of his cock against it, then shoved back into her cunt instead, deep and sudden. Celaena’s moan echoed off the stone walls.
“Greedy hole,” he muttered, pounding her. “Sucking me in like you’ll die without it.” His fingers found her clit again, working it fast and mean while his cock dragged over that perfect spot inside her on every stroke. She was close, thighs shaking, cunt clenching.
“Come on my dick,” he ordered. “Soak the throne. Do it now.”
Celaena shattered with a broken shout, pussy pulsing around him, juices running down her thighs and onto the ancient carvings beneath her. Rowan didn’t stop. He fucked her through it, chasing his own release, until he pulled out and painted her ass and lower back with thick ropes of come. Some of it dripped onto the seat itself.
Panting, she looked over her shoulder at the mess they’d made. “Think anyone will notice?”
Rowan wiped two fingers through the come on her skin and pushed them into her mouth.
She sucked them clean, tasting salt and herself. “They’ll smell it,” he said, voice low and satisfied. “And they’ll know exactly who owns this throne now.”
She grinned around his fingers, already rocking back against him, hungry for round two. The night was young, and the throne had plenty of room for more.
