You Don't Need To Rest
AURORA’S POV
I woke up the next morning feeling like my body had been crushed. My muscles were sore and my head was heavy. I was still under the soft sheets when the heavy gold doors swung open. I expected Luma or Tali, but it was him.
The Crab King walked in, his black armor gone. He was wearing a loose silk robe that hung open at his chest. He didn't look tired anymore. He looked hungry. He walked straight to the edge of my bed and sat down. The weight of his body made me slide toward him.
"I heard you had a difficult night," he said. His voice was deep and scratchy. "The maids told me your blood was on fire."
I pulled the sheet up to my chin. "I'm okay now. I just need to rest."
"You don't need rest," he whispered. He reached out and grabbed the sheet, yanking it down. I was wearing a thin silk nightgown that showed everything. "You need to be claimed. You need to know who owns you before the wedding."
He didn't wait for me to say anything. He leaned over me, his hands grabbing my waist. He didn't go for my pussy first. He looked at my breasts, which were still swollen and sensitive from the night before. He reached out and ripped the front of my nightgown open. My breasts spilled out, the nipples hard and red.
"Beautiful," he growled.
He pushed me back against the pillows. He didn't take off his robe. He just pulled his thick, hard cock out from the silk. It was huge and red, throbbing with a life of its own. I tried to move, but he pinned my arms above my head with one hand. He was so much stronger than me.
"Look at me, Aurora," he commanded.
He took his cock and shoved it right between my breasts. He began to rub it up and down, the head of his heat hitting my chin and then my neck. He was using my tits like a sleeve. The friction of his skin against mine was hot and raw. I felt my breath hitch. After the heat of the night before, my body was still on edge. I started to moan, my chest arching up to meet him.
"Yes," he hissed. "Feel how big I am. Feel what it means to be a Queen."
He started moving faster. He was slamming his cock between my tits, the sound of his skin slapping against my skin filling the quiet room. He used his free hand to grab my hair, pulling my head back so he could watch. I could feel the pre-cum slicking my skin, making it easier for him to slide.
It was intensive. It was raw. He wasn't being gentle like the maids said he would be. He was taking what he wanted. He kept shoving himself deep into the valley of my breasts, his breath coming in hot pants against my face. I was shaking again, the fire from the night before starting to spark in my belly.
"You belong to the gold," he groaned. "You belong to me."
He sped up his pace, his movements becoming wild. I could feel the tension building in him. He let go of my hair and gripped both of my breasts, squeezing them together hard so his cock was completely covered by my flesh. He let out a loud, guttural roar and came all over my chest. The heat of his seed was shocking, splashing against my skin and neck.
He slumped over me for a second, his heavy chest pressing the air out of my lungs. He smelled like salt and expensive oil. He didn't kiss me. He didn't say he loved me. He just waited until his breathing slowed down.
He stood up, tucked himself back into his robe, and looked down at me. I was covered in him, my breasts red from the friction, my hair a mess.
"Clean yourself up," he said, his voice cold again. "The dressmakers will be here in an hour. Don't make me wait."
He turned and walked out, the gold doors slamming shut behind him.
I lay there in silence, the wetness of his come cooling on my skin. The maids were wrong. He wasn't a kind man. He was just a different kind of monster. I looked at the ceiling and felt a tear slip down my face.