Regret 03

The robe flap carelessly at my sides, the expensive fabric the perfect frame for my body. The black offsets the azure color of my skin, the white of my hair a stark contrast on the fabric. Many a woman has fallen to her knees in worship in response to such a sight, hunger in their eyes for the chance to devour me whole. It’s not a hunger Allura had shown me, the woman more sad and resigned than anything else. She had actually started crying by the time I took my finish inside her mouth, suffering through it like it was the greatest of indignities. I supposed to her it is, especially given how Allura had once told me death was preferable to suffering my touch.

My anger with her, ever present, boils over in my actions. I viciously jerk off my robe, not caring that the silk tears in the process. I have others, carelessly flinging the damaged robe against a wall. It doesn’t avoid the glass decorations on a shelf, knocking several over. They smash against the floor, but even that doesn’t matter. Little does in the moment, not even the remembered feel of how it felt to have thrust deep inside her mouth.

I am not satisfied with the climax she gave me. My body feels tense, but more than that it is still aroused. Eager for more. It won’t take much time before I am inside her, burying deep in an effort to somehow appease my raging lust for her. It’s not love I feel, it’s desire plain but powerful in it’s potency. A desire that had been waiting for more then ten years, lust going unfulfilled until this past moment.

I should be gloating but I am not. And all because I think on how things should have been, on how good it would have been between us if only she had said yes ten years ago. I would have worshipped her. I would have treated her like the Queen she deserved to be, the sole center of my universe. Now she means little to me except a means to end an obsession. Tonight I will prove Allura holds no power over my heart, freeing myself from any lust, any desire I still retained for her. She will be just one more woman, another notch on a bed that has seen much action.

It should be easy. I have had many women over the years. Beauties from all corners of the Denubian galaxy, both slaves and free women. I’ve had women beg for the privilege of being bedded by me, women throwing themselves at me in tears over the thought of being separated from me. I barely remember more than a handful of faces, and can’t even put names to them. Only Allura stands out, and that is because I once loved her.

Once I wanted her to be my everything. Once I wouldn’t have treated her so harshly, so inconsiderately. Once upon a time, I would never have dreamed of making her cry, of shoving my cock into her throat. I would have been happy with whatever she gave me, letting her go at her own pace, rather than brutalize her in such a way. But that is a Lotor from a lifetime ago. A Lotor who believed love was precious. I know better now. Know that nothing is sacred, and that nothing matters but getting my own pleasured satisfaction out of a woman.

She is right to cry. I am a Lotor who won’t hold back, who won’t show her the care and consideration I once thought Allura deserved. Tonight is all about me, about my needs, my satisfaction.

“I don’t like to be kept waiting, Allura.” I call out sharply. She kept me waiting for over ten years, and I will not let her do so for even a few minutes more. Not even for Allura to recover from how I had treated her, the former Queen still kneeling where I left her. Trying and failing not to sob. The tears both please and anger me, the warring emotions a perverse contrast. I think she exaggerates her disgust with what happened, and yet I relish the fact that she realizes how hopeless her situation truly is.

Am I able to keep indifferent when she enters the bedroom? Not quite. Not with anticipation coloring my eyes. I stare at her as she walks towards me, towards the bed. It is an unwavering look, one she is uncomfortable with. She starts to shift her arms, trying to cover herself. Trying to protect herself from my gaze. But her nipples are hard, fear making them that way.

She stops just before the bed. I am perched on the edge, extending a hand to her in invitation. She hesitates, but ultimately takes hold of my hand. That is all I need to jerk her to me, leaving her standing between my spread legs. The difference in height is vast, but seated I find myself just about even with her breasts. A flush colors over the top of them, Allura’s blush starting to descend down her body. How charming I think, the words laced with sarcasm.

I let go of her hand, my own being placed on her waist. Holding her trapped for what I will do. I’m eyeing those fear stiffened nipples, almost licking my lips in hunger. I HAVE to taste her. I can’t let the night end without sampling her at least once. And I won’t.

Allura stiffens when I brush my lips over one taut nipple. Is it her fear that makes her act as though she is an untried virgin? Or does she not want to feel pleasure at my touch? A new anger fills me, along with a vindictiveness that surprises me. I will show her how good it could have been between us. I will build up regret inside her, making her mourn what she had passed over in rejecting me.

She wants to wrench herself away, when my lips open. When I bring my tongue forward to lave teasingly over her nipple. Her hands are at her sides, Allura clenching them into fists. But she doesn’t strike me. Doesn’t attempt to push me away, though her body is trying to lean back. Is it a conscious reaction? I can’t tell for sure. But my hand’s grip on her waist keeps her from fleeing my mouth, my tongue continuing it’s teasing affection.

Such tender morsels, my tongue washes over them. I tease one nipple, then switch to the other, leaving both wet and surely aching for relief. I won’t give it to her just yet, instead grazing my teeth against one, feeling how she startles in my hands. I could bleed her now, but I hold back the impulse to bite down. She is not Drule, and she will not appreciate that kind of foreplay.

For a brief time, I abandon her nipples completely. Kissing all over her breasts instead. Allura is grinding her teeth together, trying to hold in her sounds. It’s a contest of wills, to see who will break first. Will she cry out, or will I have to demand she let me hear her pleasured voice? I keep on teasing her, and only when her nails are now digging into my forearms, do I let go of her waist. Allura is now clinging to me, rather than trying to get away, and I delight in breaking down her feeble resistance.

My hands cup her breasts, squeezing them eagerly. She is tender there, and a protesting whimper finally escapes her. My eyes glow with a mocking light as I gaze up at her blushing face, my fingers continue to knead and squeeze her. She closes her eyes, and I speak.

“You are going to watch Allura.” I tell her in a commanding tone. “You are going to see every second of this.” I want her to never forget the sight of me loving on her body, want the memory of me seared into her mind so that every time she closes her eyes, Allura flashes back to this moment.

This time when she stiffens against me, her back arches so that her breasts are thrust before me even more. I don’t take my eyes off her face, our gazes locked together as my lips fasten around one of her nipples. Helpless arousal is in her eyes, along with the reluctant enjoyment she is feeling. She doesn’t want to like what I am doing, but this body of hers is starved for any affection I’ll show it.

I am not gentle once her nipple is enveloped in my mouth. I lick and I pull on it, tugging with my teeth. Using my mouth to exert an intense force of suction that tears a mewling cry from her. She grows unstable, body shaking so that my hands go back to gripping her waist. She is remaining upright, only by how we hold onto each other, Allura’s legs shaking. And yet I show her no mercy, continuing the pleasurable assault. I don’t remain unaffected, my cock already swelling back to life. It wants inside her, and doesn’t want to wait for any games I might play with her.

I growl, and it is a mix of frustration and anger. This is not how it’s supposed to be. I should be in control of my reactions, the master of all my desires. My cock shouldn’t be raging out of control, trying to force on me it’s demands. I should be able to control myself, to continue to tease Allura all I want. And yet that pressing need between my legs is making me aware of how powerless I have become. It’s Allura’s fault, and I can only pray I will be in better control once I’ve buried my cock inside her sex.

Almost savage as I suck, I suddenly roll us both. I take her from standing before the bed, to laying beneath me. Her startled gasp is loud, her eyes wide and frightened. That look intensifies when she feels my cock rub up against her slit. It’s clear she hadn’t expected me to be recovered yet, but I can’t even smile at that unexpected naivety of hers.

Already I am pushing inside her, not even taking the time to make sure she is wet enough. It is a small mercy that she is, Allura having been unable to resist the attention I gave to her breasts. I want to tease her about her body’s reaction to me, but as I bury inside her, the words are stolen from me so that only a guttural growl escapes me. She feels damn near perfect, her insides squeezing around my cock. Snug and warm, I don’t take the time to properly savor the feel of her. I am already thrusting, drawing the length of me over every inch inside her. Striking deep and making her gasp again.

I like the sounds she makes, that helpless keening. I bite at her shoulder, holding her down as I work my hips, pounding into her with unmatched strength and speed. There is no reason for me to hold back, it’s not as though she’s a virgin. Nor should Allura matter enough for me to care if I am causing her discomfort or pain. I want what she owes me, as though she could ever pay me back for the years wasted without her, and the humiliation of my shattered heart. Do I feel any remorse that the inside of her thighs will be bruised? Not when she felt no remorse for breaking my heart.

She’s not trying to move with me, Allura just laying there. As if that could somehow appease the fury within me. I slide my hands under her ass, gripping her there as I furiously thrust. Forcing her to move in a way designed to heighten my pleasure. I want to melt inside her, and only the thought that this will be over, keeps me from coming. I want this moment to last, want it to go on and on, for eternity if need be.

But even my stamina is not so great as to last forever. How many minutes pass? Does even a half n hour go by, before I am roaring out my release? Screaming wordless as my seed ejects out of me just as violently as my thrusts had been? I pump several more times inside her, more come erupting from me. Allura’s gone limp beneath me, but she hasn’t fainted. She’s staring wide eyed up at me, eyes wet but also frustrated. She hasn’t climaxed, and yet she seems relieved by that. As though her lack of orgasm somehow made this moment less humiliating for her.

I don’t get to enjoy my own orgasm because of that realization. I want her to know what she could have enjoyed as my wife. I want Allura to know pleasure so intense, so profound, she will never find it with anyone else. Even as I grow soft inside her, I make a vow. The night will not end until I’ve done all I can to make her understand what she gave up on.


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