⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ “Your Understanding is Limited.” Kars x Reader NSFW ⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆
ദ്ദി •⩊• ) Y’all. It took me so long to get to this I’m almost at 200 followers AJSJDKDKDKRKRL
Thank you guys so much for following and entertaining my sillies. I genuinely have a blast with so many of my requests, and it is really helpful practice for other projects. Please enjoy pampering Kars :)
If anyone’s curious. This is the strap mentioned and I regret not buying it w my employee discount ;-;
Notes: pegging, coconut oil as lube (do not overuse it and check your toy material), anal fingering, Kars bottoms but he’s not really subbing, body worship, praise, cum eating, vibrator usage, sex toy descriptions.
Hypothermia maybe. A gunshot directly to the head? Something like that. What other methods of killing were there that were painless?
You wish you knew more off the top of your head. Or had the tools to do so. Anything to get out of this room, where the immortal being you had pledged complete and utter submission to stands, eyes on you in a mixture of exasperation and boredom, with your leather lace-up strap in his hands.
You blink at him. Then, without a moment’s hesitation, make a mad dash for the open door.
It slams. Just before you almost skid into it, you manage to twist your body so your shoulder crashes into it instead.
Damn. Hissing, you rub the potentially bruised muscle.
“Perhaps you were duller than I thought.”
Do you even dare? Chrissakes. The worst. Absolute worst thing he could have grabbed out of the box. And you swore it was in a bag, tucked in a suitcase, not there, how…?
Cringing at yourself, you tilt your head up.
He peers down his nose at you; red eyes sharp. Don’t panic. Don’t.
The Pillarman shakes his head.
You freeze. Every muscle in you tenses, ready to be vaporized on the spot. Hell.
“I’ll have the ghouls fetch ice.”
“Huh?”
So shocked, you don’t even have the sense to cover your dropped jaw. Thankfully he isn’t looking there.
One finger traces the clean metal ring, brushes against the faux pebbled leather, and lets the full thing dangle. Last time you used it at least you had taken off whatever dildo you attached. If it had been attached, you’d have gone out the window instead.
Lord Kars exhales, and says, in a tone like a teacher who had to repeat a formula for the fifth time, “I believe I can intuit what this is intended for.”
You shut your mouth, finally. “Uh… yeah. I picked it up about a year ago.”
Without a word, he begins to examine it closer. Squinting, he remarks, in a quiet voice, “The structure must be quite supportive. More comfortable than rope.”
“I don’t think rope could hold a-- a dildo in place, my lord,” you say, bewilderment taking over your initial panic and you relax against the door, looking at the sex aid.
Well, he didn’t seem like he was about to kill you for having it. Which was good. Even if you didn’t have an immediate use for it, it seemed utterly wrong to have to toss out a nearly ninety-dollar item that you’d only just gotten the hang of at the time he came for you. The dildos in your toy chest too, you hadn’t gotten to experiment with all of them yet-- there were two smaller ones just under six inches, barely thicker than two fingers, really only meant for backdoor play, a pink, realistic seven incher, a nine-inch glittery purple one that was a bit smoother than the others, and a large, twelve inch realistically colored one, more novelty than anything.
After hearing two guys snicker about who the hell could take something like that, she had to be a whore, you’d grabbed it and the harness, and walked directly in front of them to the counter.
Their stunned silence when you slapped the silicone toy on the formica, watching it wiggle back and forth, almost made you and the pink haired girl behind the cash wrap burst into laughter.
“Wow, you made a good choice for the harness. This one’s my favorite, it handles the thirteen inch monster dildos really well, my boyfriend loooooves it,” she said, scanning it and holding it up, admiring the box. “And I love that brand for the dildo too, for the realistic ones it feels really close to the real thing. Suction cup also can cup a vibrator real well.”
“Oh, good to know. The last one we got, he said he couldn’t even feel it. I think I’ve been too nice to him, you know? Ten inches is nothing.”
You heard someone choke behind you and pressed your lips together to hide your grin.
“We have a twenty-inch tentacle one, if you’re interested.” She smiled at you, the silver piercing in her lip glittering as you desperately tried not to snort. Shoes squeaked behind you as the two men scuttled out of the store, the bell by the door jingling and finally giving you and her permission to cackle like harpies.
“Some handled the rope just fine. Though stone is much more steady than these,” your lord muses, holding the purple dildo and flicking his wrist just enough to let it bounce.
You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. Stone, huh? Did Pillarwomen have to worry about stones that weren’t safe for PH balances?
“So… you don’t want me to throw it out?” You cross your arms.
His gaze snaps to you, and you try to keep your face calm, even as your cheeks heats up.
“And why would you assume that?”
“Well…” you hesitate. But for god’s sake, why the hell would you assume that he was interested in it, given every other sexual experience you’d had with the man? And the fact that he was something like a demigod who was one hundred thousand years old?
“Our experiments… generally skew towards me being penetrated, if at all, my lord,” you reply. “And half the time it isn’t necessary.”
Kars inclines his head. His eyes glitter with what seems like pride, though he keeps his tone completely neutral as he says, “Pleasures of the flesh were unproductive. But I still engaged in them for a period, before they bored me.” The Pillarman gestures to the small black chest that you brought with you. “Impressive, that you should manage to indulge in them more than myself, given your lack of years.”
Roundabout way of calling you a whore.
“Now I wouldn’t say that, but the inventions of the modern day let you explore just a little bit more I believe, my lord,” you reply. Did ancient Hitachis exist? No way.
You lean towards him, smiling just a hair. “And I know I’ve certainly enjoyed using them. Even more so with you.”
“Mm.” he takes a step towards you.
Your heart pounds.
He takes a moment to observe: your raised eyebrows, tilted head, the mirth in your expression. Then, he does one of the most terrifying things he can do: smiles.
Fangs sharp, gleaming in the candlelight, his soft lips thinning in the action, curling cruelly. You try your best not to acknowledge the fluttering in your stomach.
“It is not necessary that the feeling is mutual,” he says softly, “But it pleases me to know it is. Little pet.”
Damn him. How could you compete with words like that?
“So.” Kars straightens, once again towering over you. In response, you press your foot against the door behind you and push yourself up.
“You had tasks you wanted to finish, did you not?” he asks.
You nod. Both of you had gotten distracted (well, he had distracted you, really. It was his fault.) from what you were supposed to be doing, which was deciding what in this room could be burned for warmth.
You’d stuck your things under the bed and in the wardrobe and promptly passed out without really looking at what was in your new residence, which, in this case, was a lot of old clothes and photobooks. Some luxury stuff that was fun to play dress-up by yourself in, or sell in town for extra cash. At this point, you could probably write a book on haggling with pawn shop owners.
“Once I finish in here, I wanted to prep some food for later in the week-- and then I wanted to test out the DVD player we found…” you say slowly, rubbing the sole of your slipper into the door. “Then laundry, yours at least.”
“The DVD player? Really?”
You frown at him. “There’s a massive collection here. We have enough fuel for the generators,” you argue.
He raises a brow. Saying, airily, “I don’t like them.”
As if that was absolute. How many times had he said he hated the unnecessary bulk of a stuffed animal and then taken one you had brought with you into his room to sleep with you both? You have to bite the inside of your cheek at the specific memory of him staring at a black cat plush in a store window when he tailed you into town. It was wise to shut up when you saw the same plush a few days later, in your room.
You suck in a deep breath. It’s not worth the argument, it really isn’t. So, instead, you raise your hands.
“You don’t have to watch them with me, that’s fine. I’ll watch them in my own time. But if there are any nature documentaries, I believe-- I believe, my lord,” you repeat, as he begins to open his mouth, eyes narrowing at you-- shit, better make it quick. “You would like to see animals up close like that. Especially anything in the tropics, I know the cold is not your preference.”
He sighs heavily. Doesn’t speak for a moment. Outside, you hear a bird cry.
“Very well. I’ll come for you once you’re finished.”
Probably best not to ask how he’ll know. Instead you just nod and hold out your hand for the strap, still loosely held in his right hand as if to not crease the leather.
“I can go ahead and put that away, my lord.”
He looks at it in his hand, then lets his eyes wander back over to you, slowly, like he forgot he was holding it.
Oh god. Was he really--
“Here.”
Dropping it into your open palm so readily that it almost tumbles to the floor, your nail catches on the ring. Sucking in a deep breath, you bow your head and slip past him towards the bed.
“Do not delay,” Kars demands, low.
Nodding, you tear open the black chest and toss in the harness, tucking in the corners. Behind you, the door creaks open and closes just as noisily.
After waiting about five seconds for him to walk down the hall, you exhale and curse him out in your head.
What in god’s name did he have in mind for tonight then?
The way he’d reacted to the strap, you expected him to take it, just like the rope a week or so before. Often, he would decide he wanted to invade your toy box (the one time you gave him an exasperated look, he threatened to use all of them on you in one go).
Sometimes annoying. But the annoyance melted the second he had you in his hands. For better or for worse.
After you painstakingly explained what whichever one he grabbed out did, with varying degrees of embarrassment, he would nod, and either push you along with fingers right behind your pulse point, or fireman carry you to his room, the thing he wanted to try out in his other hand.
You tuck the damn thing back under your bed. Stupid thing. Maybe you shouldn’t have brought it with you at all. Not like he needed it for--
Focus. Focus dammit. You slap your cheek and mutter to yourself, dragging out a heavy, dusty plastic-shelled suitcase that hopefully would have something you could sell.
Next thing you wanted to purchase was a solar powered portable battery bank, but the dinky little electronics store in town didn’t have it (delivery wasn’t exactly a thing when you were squatting).You should have enough money, but… if you had to go that far, why not make a day of it?
Might be difficult to convince your lord, but maybe a zoo could draw him. Mm, but would he complain about the imposition of human will on them? You wonder, unzipping the suitcase idly. Things you never thought you’d have to consider for a simple… date.
Sure, you’d call it that. Technically you were, well, something between a pet, servant, and lover, you guess.
Did the terminology matter too much? For some, maybe it would be a hang up. But you snort at the idea of calling the hundred-thousand year old vampire-thing your “boyfriend”.
You flip up the top of the suitcase. It’s crammed with swimsuits that are at least thirty years old.
Fuck. Well, you could also find a vintage seller in the city.
You shove it back under and stride off to look at the theatre room.
Stupid rich people. Stupid, stupid fucking rich people.
“Why does your washing machine have to be outside of the house? Aren’t you worried about leaves?” you mutter to yourself, heaving the wicker basket (because of course it couldn’t be something thin and easy to carry like plastic) up and pulling open the side door. A cool breeze sifts through the knit of your sweater, raising goosebumps. Cripes.
That was something you had to get used to: after having the convenience of a modern washing machine merely ten steps away in your apartment, people with far, far more money than you decided they wanted to both physically and mentally distance themselves as far as possible from the chore. How many places had you gone to where the appliances were in a separated shed, or that they were in the basement of three story houses? Too many, really.
Not to mention the damn castles that would have required hand washing if you did not, multiple times, insist on bringing a small countertop washer that would clean them just as well.
The door shuts behind you. Carefully, you balance the basket on your knee when you lock it and turn around-- almost slamming directly into a naked torso.
You yelp, the basket slipping off your leg. But you don’t hear it drop to the floor, and your arm is caught so you don’t slip back either. Oh god, don’t let it be…
“Please forgive me, my lord. Whatever punishment you deem—“
“Silence.”
Thank god. Funnily enough. Even if he’d still punish you, it wasn’t how Esidisi would want to. Still, your shoulders do curl in.
“Should it have been anyone else…” Kars continues, glancing at your wrist in his hand. It’s pathetic: he could loop around your wrist with merely his pinky and thumb. He slides his thumb down your forearm, and drops it. “Regardless. You’re finished, then?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Very well. Come with me.”
Oh boy. You ensure the basket is secure on your hip, before you step up the stairs behind him. Bounding up them like him was out of the question, but you manage to not have to run too much to catch up as he starts down the hall, catching your breath. Lamps glow along the dark wallpaper, casting shadows on portraits of people you’d ever met.
“Did you have enough ingredients to cook?” Kars asks without looking back at you. You hum.
“Yep. I know it’ll be warmer later in the week, so I stacked some stuff that doesn’t need to be heated up. I can take them on a hike with you, my lord.”
Perhaps you’re hearing what you want to hear, but there’s an appreciative note in his voice as he speaks. “The seasons will become harsher on you again soon. Trails head up the mountain, and you will need that ski suit.”
“There’s a lot of backpacking gear in mine and Wamuu’s closets. If you desired to stay out for a few days, I wouldn’t be opposed to camping, my lord,” you add, stopping in front of the door. His hand pauses on the doorknob.
“Oh?”
“Perhaps when it’s warmer. But yes.” Now that you thought about it though, it would be better to not get bug bites. You tilt your head in thought. “Or… well, if you don’t mind carrying a generator, we could go whenever, my lord. You can’t double as a heater like humans would,” you joke lightly.
Kars looks at you carefully. Then, he leans down, and slants his mouth against yours.
Your heart flutters. Something dark, woody lingers on his lips, slightly chapped, a fang poking you. Briefly you taste copper, before his tongue flicks out; it’s a fight to not shiver as he runs the tip along your bottom lip, kissing you again and making your hand tremble on the hold of the wicker basket. His breath ghosts your cheek.
“We will pack in a minute,” he murmurs. Violet curls brush your cheek as he straightens, and turns the knob. “In the meantime, offer yourself to me once more.”
“As you desire,” you reply. Voice soft.
But he doesn’t command you to strip. Rather, as he pushes the door open, you follow his gaze to the bed.
Yeah, you really shouldn’t have brought that chest with you.
A long loop of rope akin to what they use to elevate a leg in a hospital hangs down from one of the hooks. Pillows are arranged in a way that would support a body right below it and next to one of those pillows is a small container of coconut oil, an insertable double-stim vibrator, and the leather harness, with the purple glittery dildo attached to it.
Somehow you manage to set down the wicker basket and walk, slowly, disbelievingly, to the assembly.
The dildo is freshly cleaned, so is the pink vibrator, its remote sitting next to it. You pick up the harness, jostle it a little to test the hold. It’s perfectly stiff. Well.
Your stomach squeezes. And yet, there’s a little flurry of excitement, as you look at him. His expression doesn’t shift.
“Are you… you’d like me to?” you ask. He inclines his head.
“I desire for you to please me, little one.”
“Please you? My lord, I swear,” your eyes glittering with excitement as you approach him, kneeling down and taking his hand to press to your lips. The coldness of his fingers makes it feel as though you’re kissing a statue.
“My lord, I will worship you.”
An idea pops into your head, and you let your fingers lightly trail on his leg as you stand, tracing the carved muscle of his thigh. Blue shadow only highlights the blood red of his irises as you let a hand hover at his hip. His loincloth begins to tent at the front.
It sends shivers through your body, recalling how he treated you in his pursuits, his experiments. Perhaps that’s all he regarded this as, as well, but still. To get to pleasure him so explicitly…
“May I undress you?” you whisper. He nods.
Hands deftly undo the knot, the belt keeping him decent, his swelling cock standing at attention the moment the fabric falls.
Your mouth waters at the sight. Carefully, you wrap your hand around the base. It’s just barely warmer than the rest of his body. You give an experimental stroke, and he sighs.
“Little one…”
“Please lay down, my lord.” It feels wrong to command him. But he obeys, and you feel warmth in your abdomen as you slowly strip, watching him as he lies back, arching his muscles over the pillows.
Of course he would figure out the optimal position of them, to support him just so, that when he raises his leg, the foot perfectly slips through the loop to hold him up. Every bit of him, beautiful. Yours to serve.
Your eyes are focused on him, as his own roam over you-- slowly pulling your sweater over your head, slipping out of your pants, and then your underwear. You pick up the vibrator.
“Did you want me to use this as well, my lord?”
“Should you prefer.”
“I want to focus on your satisfaction, though,” you protest. In response, he raises an eyebrow.
“Do you forget my words on the matter?”
Your ears get hot, and you shake your head. Though…
Mischief tilts the corners of your lips up. Aha. “I’ll use it when I want. But for now…”
You let a hand drift down to your folds, sighing as a finger brushes your clit. His eyes snap to your lower half as you trace a circle around the sensitive part of you, exactly how he does it.
The pleasure between your thighs grows. Arousal wettens your folds. You drag a finger between them, shuddering at the contrast between your cold hand and the warmth of your core. Then, you press your finger inside.
You sigh at the same time he inhales.
Watching you with eyes that darken the longer you delay, crooking your digit and making your hips buck into your own hand. So perfect. In the service of your lord, you hadn’t self pleasured in a while, but your body knew itself.
Your thumb presses against your clit as you stroke your inner walls, letting your breath come out in small pants as you prep yourself. Lord Kars’ brows furrow.
“Move along,” he half growls, letting his hand drift across his throbbing cock and fisting it-- you moan at the sight. Desperate, wasn’t he?
Your smile returns.
“Forgive me my lord. I’m getting too excited.”
With a wink, you withdraw your hand and pick up the little vibe, teasing the soft silicone end at your entrance. Slowly, carefully, you push it in and shudder as you clench around it. The perfect little piece in front nudges against your clit.
Carefully, you scoop up the harness, undo the lace on the back, just enough so that when you step into it, you can pull it tight. Even without practice you’re able to tie the bow; the friction of the base of the dildo pushing the vibe against your clit sends prickles down your spine.
In front of you, the dildo stands firm, and you look up at him.
One arm is positioned behind his head, to prop himself up, the other lazily stroking himself, as his non suspended leg bends up and exposes himself.
Your heart trills. One foot in front of the other, your eyes not leaving his, you approach the bed.
“Allow me.” murmuring, you kneel in front of him.
The lid to the coconut oil is already half unscrewed (damn impatient Pillarman), and you scoop a bit onto your fingers-- slick, lightly aromatic. In comparison to the dildo, you wouldn’t be able to stretch him much, but…
You level your look at him. “If it hurts, my lord, I will stop.”
“Get on with it.”
Despite his bark, you refuse to skimp on your prep. Hells sake, it had been a minute since you had done this either.
Exhaling, you trace around the tight ring of muscle with a lubricated finger, spreading the oil on.
He becomes deathly silent. You continue.
As you press your first finger in, you’re impressed at how tight he is. It made sense. You slowly push it in, stroking his insides the same way you did yourself, curling up towards where his prostate would be-- did he even have one? He certainly didn’t need to use the bathroom, absorbing nutrients how he did, but you scrape the anatomy questions from your mind and slowly push another finger in. He sighs.
“So beautiful, my lord,” you whisper. Your free hand lays against the back of his suspended thigh, the fingertips lightly tracing the skin. “You’re incredible.”
Kars doesn’t speak. Instead, you watch as his hand flexes, and tightens around his weeping dick. Excitement, and a tiny bit of smugness, curl in your gut.
A third finger. Finally, his breath hitches just a bit.
You thrust them gently inside of him, curling, sliding your fingers against him to feel every ridge. His back arches just a hair, and your other hand drifts down to his cock.
Kars, the ultimate lifeform to be, puts his gaze on you as you pump his cock with one hand, and stretch him with the other. In your hand, he twitches, his eyelids heavy with lust and his lips curled, trembling-- as if he wanted to moan, but was holding back. The idea makes you stroke him harder; the three fingers inside him go to the base. You’re rewarded with a hiss.
You do your best to keep the laughter out of your voice. Really, you aren’t laughing at him, but at how the whole thing feels… strangely blissful. Domestic in an odd way.
“I really am blessed, by you, my lord.”
Three was just about the thickness of the dildo, and you carefully withdraw your hand from him. Letting out a ragged breath, his hips relax, and you brush your thumb over the purplish head of his length. The air gets stuck in his throat.
“I’m about to begin,” you warn him in the same quiet voice you’ve kept. Reverent, really. You felt it in the weight of the air-- the tension.
This was your god, your god to be. How much he trusted you, to let you do this to him… your heart trembles as you slick up the dildo with the lubricant. After settling the tip against his entrance, you give him one more look.
His horn glimmers in the low light. Jewelry sparkles in his ears, on his head, curls spread like silk. Beautiful. He was as beautiful as when he came for you. And his expression, soft as it had ever been. You would even dare to call it adoring.
Taking a deep breath, you push inside him.
The sound he makes, gods you wish you could feel it as he lets out a low, breathy rumble, the first few inches sliding in with little resistance. You take a moment, rubbing small circles on the inside of his thigh, cooing softly.
“So, so magnificent, my lord. I want you to relax for me.”
After a second, you let the dildo sink in further, pushing your hips forward. Inch by inch, he takes it. Chest rising and falling steadily.
You feel his abdomen, the muscles tightening before going loose. As you bottom out, the little nub of the vibrator brushes your clit, and you shiver.
For a few moments you allow him to get used to it. How long had it even been since he had done this? Though it went in easily… you wrap your hand around the base of his cock and stroke him, as he lets out a soft sigh.
“May I move?”
“Yes.” He answers so quickly you bite your cheek to stop from smiling.
And slowly, you pull your hips back and push back into him.
With each roll of your hips, he twitches, his breath low and even. You keep your pace slow, letting him feel every little faux vein and the curve of the head against the sensitive inner walls. The stretching and lubricant have done their job, as you push in and out, the cold metal ring nearly touching the soft flesh of his backside with every move.
Your other hand you keep on his throbbing length, sliding a bit of oil down it before pressing your thumb against his frenum. Kars doesn’t moan, not loudly, but his breathing grows heavy. One hand is fisted into the covers, the other in a fist next to his head. His eyes hooded, intensely set on you, snapping down to your hand, then back to where the purple dildo stretches him. Soft, slick sounds come from where your hips meet his ass.
Even without it on, the pressure of the vibrator inside you, and the way it rubs against your clit behind the dildo make you moan softly.
“Harder,” he demands, a rough voice that you obey without thinking. You snap your hips forward, and Kars lets out a low sound, gritting and baring his sharp teeth as you thrust into him.
His cock warms in your hand, hard. The sheets slip under you. Sweat beads at your hips. You put your other hand on his hipbone to steady you, gripping in a little and letting your nails dig in.
The Pillarman groans, loud, rumbling. Thunder-like. Gods, you rarely heard him make that sound, and it was absolutely delicious to hear it coming from what you were doing to him. That he enjoyed it so deeply.
He was so, so damn perfect. Affection swells in your chest. You push the dildo in deeper, and his fist twitches. The bed squeaks as you move, joining your mingled sounds of gratification.
By your foot, you feel the soft plastic of the vibrator remote. Mindless from lust you swipe it up and press the start.
Vibrations jolt your hips forward. Fuck. The buzzing against your clit must carry somewhat into the dildo because Kars hisses the same time that you moan.
The soft silicone rubbing against your g-spot, your hips speed up, desperate, pumping his cock: you needed him to cum. You wanted him to teeter over the edge, see that ecstasy on his face. His eyes squeeze shut, jaw clenched, as his dick pulses against your hand. The vibrator speeds up, your clit throbbing against it, and you feel that tightness in your lower gut curl more and more.
You choke it out. “My lord-- I--”
And he cuts you off, practically roaring as his dick twitches one last time in your hand, and thick white cum spills over the tip and down your fingers, warm, cooling quickly, the veins pulsing. His whole body shakes.
That, and the sound spur your own orgasm, eyes rolling back as you still your hips against his and clench around the silicone toy. Your pussy throbs. The pressure of the dildo firmly keeping the exterior tip of the vibrator right against your clit makes you shake, unable to escape the sensations as you cum; tingles dance down your spine, across your sweaty skin.
There’s a thin sheen of it on your lord as well, you realize, in your haze, making him glow under the light of the candles. The vibe shuts off.
You bring the hand that was on his length to your mouth and lick his release off your fingers. The Pillarman exhales.
Slowly, you pull your hips back, letting the head of the dildo pop free, and sit back on your feet, letting your clean hand gently rub his massive thigh. So lovely. Your god.
“Have I pleased you, my lord?” you ask, in a shaky voice. He lets out a bark of a laugh that almost makes you jump.
“Pleased me… indeed.” He looks at you with eyes still foggy with lust, his hair somehow more wild than usual. His chest heaves just a little. Lips plump, swollen a little where he bit them. You want to kiss them. “It has been many millennia. You reminded me why I stopped…”
Your stomach sours. Stopped? Were you that bad? You shuffle back on your feet. Embarrassment making you squirm. Well, it was his fault you were out of practice too, by any means. He--
He cups your chin, and forces you to look in his eyes.
They’re burning. Hotter than Esidisi’s blood, the smoldering coals that linger from his desire, a single bead of sweat trickling down the side of his temple. You swallow.
“Should I have continued to indulge, I would lose sight of my mission, for the high.”
Your cheeks grow hot. Well.
“It was my honor. And I did… really enjoy it, my lord,” you admit, reaching back to unlace the corset back of the strap. Shimmying out of it on your knees, you gently pull the vibrator from your cunt and shudder as it squeezes.
“And, I will continue to service you, in any way you desire,” you say, a bit quieter this time. His finger trails your jaw.
“I look forward to testing you again, dearest.” Kars leans down for a swift brush of his lips against yours. “Now.”
You roll your shoulders. “Let’s run a bath, yeah? I can--”
“Already done.”
Of course. Hopefully it wasn’t cold. You exhale as you slide off the bed, the larger man following behind you as you go to the bathroom.
“Thank you. Then, was there anything else you required, my lord?”
“I told you. We need to pack for our venture in the mountains.”
You sigh. “I need quite a bit more food, then, my lord,” you point out. The bath is still steaming, thankfully. “I only made dinners, not anything for breakfast. We’re out of breakfast food.”
“I’ll send the ghouls out while we pack,” he replies simply. “We leave tomorrow.”
There’s no point in arguing. So much for the city trip-- at least for now.
“Yes, my lord,” you reply.
A hand takes yours.
You glance up-- just in time for your face to warm when he kisses the back of your palm.
“I look forward to our trip,” he murmurs.
Damn his charm. You can’t help but smile, squeezing his hand just a bit. It steadies you as you slip into the tub, him stepping in behind you, and you lean back against his broad chest as the hot water envelops you both, the smell of mint filling the air, your private oasis where you didn’t need to be anything else but in love, however strange it looked to those on the outside.
