torn on my teeth
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Beron cants forth, sliding his hand into the silken fall of her hair. "You have something to ask of me?"
"Only that you might bid me tend you with my mouth, High Lord," she intones. A true supplicant, she lays her cheek atop his knee, cupping her palm to the back of his calf. Her eyes are round as a fawn's where they look up at him, lashes long and sooty. "I wish to show you all I have learned."
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or: beron is enraptured by his favored bed slave.
Series
- Part 1 of torn on my teeth
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lick it better by eats_books
Fandoms: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
01 Sep 2025
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Drawing back and tucking a lock of Iphigenia's hair behind her pointed ear, Beron asks, "These are the whores who broke your locket?"
Iphigenia does not look to them, but they both glance sharply at her. She keeps her eyes fixed on him as the flush to her cheeks deepens. "Yes, High Lord."
"They must have forgotten themselves to think they could disrespect a female of mine," Beron says, skimming his fingertips just above her collar. "We will have to remind them of their place."
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or: beron sees fit to punish those who have upset his favored bed slave.
Series
- Part 2 of torn on my teeth
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Summary
Beron answers not.
He draws again from his pipe, the bit eager between his teeth—but he does not inhale; rather, he holds the fireglow captive on his tongue, then slants his lips over hers and bestows it upon her. In the kiss, he tastes what it is to have power: an unhallowing of the sacred, a debasement of the exalted, a profanity of the immaculate.
The deflowering of a miracle.
Iphigenia gasps, her chest stuttering with the abrasion of it, but she does not pull away. She cannot now, even if she thought to. Without any defense against the herb, her verdant body succumbs at once to its effects.
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or: beron gets high with his favored bed slave.
Series
- Part 3 of torn on my teeth
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Summary
Her ministrations dwindle to a halt. Small and beseeching: "I'm so sore, High Lord."
For a time, the only response is the snap of the water where it roils against her.
Then, "You would deny me?"
Puzzlement dips her brow. "Never," she murmurs, grazing the bridge of his nose with her own. "I thought…"
His gaze narrows. "You thought?"
Through the haze of steam, her cheeks flush deep as a spring rose. "I thought only that you might make use of the other, High Lord."
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or: beron takes pleasure from his favored bed slave at the expense of her pain.
Series
- Part 4 of torn on my teeth