At this moment, he was the supreme, the most splendid man in the world, a king and a knight. There was no one above him, nor was anyone his peer. Yes, that was the dream Solaris III was having when suddenly it all changed.
One instant he was on the throne when the world dissolved into fractured light, then coalesced into the familiar shadows of his own bedchamber. He was lying in his own bed. But he was a statue, a ghost trapped in flesh and bone.
His eyes were closed, yet he could see everything around him with clarity. His chest fell up and down without his control; the same could be said for his limbs, which at this moment refused to obey his order.
Was this sleep paralysis? What was going on?
Before he could ponder over the question, the door to his bed chamber was opened, and someone walked in.
The audacity of the person to walk into the very place where he slept without his permission. The king was furious. The figure who walked in was no maid but a guy with broad shoulders and toned muscles.
However, raged as he much, at this moment, he could not move his body.
The person walked over to the couch resting next to the balcony where his Queen was languidly lounging at this moment. Wearing a thin white nightdress with a light shade of lavender that exposed much of her skin.
She was the very embodiment of beauty and seduction. The king was mesmerised, just like the day he met her for the first time all those years ago. Though he quickly snapped out of it and placed his attention on the two of them.
At this moment, at this hour, what could the two of them have to discuss? He could see their lips moving; however, no sound came out. He could not hear them.
Just when he starting to suspect that this was a dream, a scene that he would never dream even in his nightmares, occurred in front of him.
His Queen, his officially wedded wife at this moment, stood up from her seat and sat on the lap of the man. As if the scene alone wasn’t shocking, she turned around and locked her lips with his.
!!!
At this moment, Solaris III’s world trembled intensely. He felt a sharp pain assaulting his heart, almost stealing away the breath from his lungs. Along with the pain came incredible rage.
The king wanted to get up and wring the neck of the man engaged in such adulterous action with his wife. However, the damn sleep paralysis rooted him in place, causing him to be unable to even move an inch.
This has to be some kind of foul dream. That’s right, a dream. As if to prove him right, the scene in front of him changed again.
The place was still his bed chamber, and he was still a prisoner inside his own body. The only thing that changed was... The sight before him caused him to widen his eyes to their limits. His queen, his beautiful wife, was lying down with her back on the table.
Next to her, pressed tightly between her thighs, was a man whose facial features were obscured for some reason. The two were sitting on the couch previously. However, in this scene, they were sprawled on the table, doing something that chilled his very blood.
From his position on the bed, the king could see his wife lying flat on the table with her smooth, long legs, spread wide and hooked around the man’s shoulder with the latter’s hands, large and calloused, gripping her hips with a possessiveness that sent a jolt of something hot and dark through his veins.
He could see everything. The way her body trembled. The way she ground herself down against the hidden mouth. The slick, glistening wetness that coated her inner thighs.
What is this? This... A silent scream built in the king’s throat. A dream. This is just a foul dream. He fought against the invisible bonds that held him, straining with every ounce of his will to move a finger, to shout, to awaken.
However, tired as he much, this curse of a nightmare bound him in place. He could see his wife’s head fall back and her mouth open in pure, unadulterated pleasure that he hadn’t seen in years.
While he could not hear anything, he could more or less imagine her sound, her beautiful moans of ecstasy. She was being devoured by a stranger, and she was enjoying it. Worse, there was not even an ounce of resistance that could be felt from her body.
The king watched, hypnotized and horrified, as his wife’s body began to quake, her toes curled, back arched, thighs tighten and nails claw the table as her orgasm slowly drew near.
The stranger worked his tongue inside his wife with ruthless precision. Soon, the smell of her climax, rich and primal, filled the air.
Haha... this had to be a nightmare. The king thought in his head. He felt immense pain and loss in his heart along with another hidden emotion that was deeply disturbing that he couldn’t quite understand himself.
After the afterglow subsided, the Queen shifted. She rose from the table and turned her body around. At that moment, the king saw it. The man’s cock, thick and rigid, far bigger and magnificent than his own.
It was a weapon of pure masculinity, and the sight of it, so close to his wife’s rear, caused his very feet to turn cold; his heart erupted with anger, confusion, shame, and another emotion.
Seeing his wife sprawled naked in front of a man who was not her husband, his own body reacted. Heat pooled in his lower abdomen, and a familiar stiffness began to rise from his sleeping breeches.
No. No, wake up! This is just a nightmare. His Queen wouldn’t do such a thing. None of it was real.