The Sinful Young Master

Chapter 359: Collar tight, throat full and begging for lash!

He held her hips and pumped his hard shaft in and out, in and out, making her squeal in pleasure.

Beside her, Raayani was biting her lip as she stared at Cleora and the lustful expressions she was giving.

After a dozen such soul-stirring thrusts, he withdrew, his cock slipping from her with a wet sound.

Without a word, he shifted to Raayani.

”My arrogant, beautiful matriarch.”

He entered her in the same way, his thickness stretching her differently, her inner walls clinging to him with a desperate, velvety heat. He fucked her with the same measured, profound depth, his pace a mirror of what he’d given Cleora. He was creating a symphony, and they were his instruments.

Back and forth he moved, a conductor of pleasure.

Five deep, languid strokes in Cleora, whose head was bowed, soft whimpers of ”more, my love, more...” falling from her lips.

Then five in Raayani, who chanted his name like a prayer; her arrogance dissolved into worship. He varied the rhythm, sometimes giving Cleora three quick, shallow thrusts that made her gasp before settling back into the deep ones, sometimes lingering in Raayani, grinding against her cervix until she mewled with overwhelmed pleasure.

His hands were never still.

While he was in Cleora, his fingers would find Raayani’s clit, circling it with a deft, maddening pressure, keeping her on the very edge.

When he was in Raayani, his hand would slide over to Cleora’s ass, caressing the warm skin, dipping down to trace her perineum, reminding her she was not forgotten. He was connecting them, physically and emotionally, with his body as the bridge.

”Look at each other,” he commanded, his breath coming harder now, his control beginning to fray at the edges.

Cleora and Raayani turned their heads, their eyes meeting over their shoulders.

There was no competition left, only a shared, awe-struck wonder at the sensations he was wringing from them. They saw the same blissful agony reflected in each other’s gaze.

”Come for me,” Jolthar growled, his thrusts losing their perfect rhythm, becoming more urgent, more primal.

”Together. Now.”

It was Cleora who broke first, a raw, maternal cry tearing from her soul as her body seized, her channel milking his cock in frantic pulses. The sight and sound of her climax, combined with Jolthar’s relentless pounding, tipped Raayani over the edge mere seconds later. Her orgasm was a silent, shuddering cataclysm, her entire body shaking as she ground back against him, her internal muscles gripping him like a fist.

Feeling both their releases, Jolthar’s own control shattered.

With a final, deep thrust into Raayani, he buried himself to the root and roared his release.

Hot, thick jets of his seed flooded her depths, pulsing out of him in a seemingly endless stream. He held himself there, spasming, until he was utterly spent.

Slowly, carefully, he pulled out and collapsed between them on the sweat-slicked sheets.

He didn’t speak, simply gathering them both into his arms, pulling their limp, satisfied bodies against his chest.

Cleora nestled her head in the crook of his neck, her breathing soft and even. Raayani laid her head on his chest, one hand splayed over his heart.

After a long silence, Cleora spoke, her voice drowsy and content.

”No more fighting.”

Raayani let out a soft, breathy laugh, a sound free of all its former sharp edges.

”No,” she agreed, her fingers lacing with Cleora’s where they rested on Jolthar’s stomach.

”No more fighting.”

Jolthar kissed each of their foreheads, his heart full.

In the quiet villa, under the watchful eyes of a foreign prince’s luxury, he had not just tamed them. He had, with a blend of tender authority and rough passion, made them whole.

Together.

*

Across the city, in a well-appointed study within the Rothgard family estate, a very different meeting was taking place.

Duke Hernais Rothgard sat behind a heavy desk, his fingers drumming against the polished wood surface.

His son Varnik stood nearby, still agitated from the earlier confrontation.

And seated across from them both was Finance Minister Richardus, looking considerably more relaxed than his hosts.

”Prince Milan’s interference is troubling,” Hernais said, his voice tight with controlled anger.

”I didn’t anticipate he would involve himself so directly.”

Richardus waved a dismissive hand.

”Milan is the least favored prince for a reason. He has ideals but little real power. His intervention today was a minor setback, nothing more.”

”He got Kaezhlar released,” Varnik pointed out sharply.

”That doesn’t seem minor to me.”

”Temporarily released,” Richardus corrected.

”Into custody, which still carries restrictions and obligations. And it doesn’t change the fundamental case. Kaezhlar executed a baron without authority.

That’s an indisputable fact.”

Hernais leaned forward.

”But will it be enough? With Milan backing him, with the Blue Rose Matriarch involved, with Lord Aravain’s influence—”

”It will be enough,” Richardus interrupted firmly, ”because I’ve scheduled the trial for tomorrow.”

Both Rothgards straightened in surprise.

”Tomorrow?” Hernais repeated.

”That’s impossibly fast.”

”Which is exactly why it works in our favor,” Richardus explained with a thin smile.

”They’re expecting five days to prepare. I’ve moved the schedule forward. They’ll have tonight to prepare their defense. One night. No time to gather witnesses, no time to build a proper legal strategy, no time to leverage their political connections effectively.”

Varnik grinned.

”That’s brilliant.”

”And completely legal,” Richardus added.

”The original agreement was for an inquiry within five days. I’m simply being efficient by scheduling it sooner. If they protest, they’ll look like they’re trying to delay justice.”

Hernais nodded slowly, seeing the trap.

”And Lord Dodd Halvren agreed to this?”

”Halvren will do what I tell him,” Richardus said with casual confidence.

”He’s worried about his pension and his position. A word in the right ear about budgetary reviews, and he becomes remarkably cooperative.”

”What about the evidence?” Hernais asked.

”Will it hold?”

”It doesn’t need to be overwhelming,” Richardus replied.

”It just needs to be sufficient to proceed to a full trial. And for that, we have enough. Kaezhlar admitted to the execution. We have documentation that no formal charges were filed against Rothgard through proper channels. We have testimony—” he nodded to Hernais ”—from the family asserting that this was murder, not justice.”