"Fine," Heena murmured. Her tone lost its haughty edge, replaced by a quiet, purring authority that owned his very soul. "Take off your clothes."

Though his massive hands shook so badly he could barely hook his fingers in the fabric, Samuel did not hesitate for a second. He grasped the thick woven sash at his waist, fumbling with the knot in a frantic blur of motion.

Slowly, layer by layer, the crisp disguise of a stoic estate guard fell to ruin. The navy outer robe pooled onto the floor in a dark heap.

His inner linen shirt quickly followed, dragged roughly over those broad, corded shoulders and discarded on the mat. As his bare chest was exposed to the cool air, the source of his torment came into sharp focus.

Clamped tightly over his pectoral muscles were two crude wooden pincers. The little devices bit deep, dragging his naturally inverted nipples outward. The constant pinching had forced the sensitive flesh to swell into tight, bright red peaks against the dark wood. Every ragged breath he took tugged at the clamps, sending fresh jolts of sharp pleasure straight downward.

But that wasn’t the worst of it.

His trousers joined the discarded robes, revealing the massive, pulsing length of his cock. It was the very same thick, intimidating weapon that usually stretched and tortured Heena through long, sleepless nights.

Right now, however, the heavy muscle was a swollen, dark purple mess of frustrated arousal. The blunt head was wedged open, stuffed with a slender, chillingly smooth iron rod. The cold metal sank deep inside his urethra, plugging him tight and ruthlessly trapping his seed, denying him the sweet, messy release his aching body was begging for.

Heena let a slow, wicked smile curl her lips. She drank in the sight of his flushed skin and the agonizing twitch of his hips, thoroughly amused by his pathetic state.

She stepped closer. The soft, sheer fabric of her dress brushed against his tense, bare thighs, a deliberate tease.

Reaching out, she let a single, manicured fingernail trace down his rigid abdomen, stopping just an inch above that cruel, cold metal.

"Aiya, what is this, guard?" she purred, her voice thick with mock sympathy.

She paused, leaning in just enough to let him feel her warm breath against his sweating chest.

"Don’t you guys take a sword to the heart and not even blink?" A soft, taunting laugh escaped her throat. "Yet you... cannot even handle this thin rod?"

Samuel looked up at her through hazy, hooded eyes. The sheer heat radiating off his flushed skin was palpable as he leaned in, nuzzling his face into the soft, bare curve of her arm.

"Wife..." he murmured, the rough gravel of his voice vibrating directly against her flesh.

Now, Heena had seen her fair share of beautiful men in this era. Lords, scholars, and warriors—each seemingly more striking than the last, parading their arrogant charms.

But seeing this towering, lethal scholar less husband more reduced to a trembling, needy mess for her? His broad shoulders slumped in pure submission, his chest heaving around those cruel wooden clamps while that thick, plugged length throbbed helplessly below.

She simply couldn’t control the sudden, damp flutter between her own thighs when a man looked at her like *that*.

Surrendering to the urge, Heena lowered her head and captured his lips. It was meant to be a fervent, demanding kiss, a sharp reminder of who held the reins.

But God, this ancient man had learned fast.

The moment their mouths met, Samuel tilted his jaw, his tongue sliding against hers with a slick, hungry rhythm that defied his usual stoic nature. He caught her lower lip between his teeth, sucking gently before diving deeper to taste her.

Heena’s breath hitched in her throat. A soft, unbidden gasp escaped her as his unexpected, practiced skill sent a sharp jolt of heat straight to her core.

She broke the kiss with a soft gasp, pulling back just enough to let a thin, wet string of saliva snap between their lips.

Her chest heaved as she caught her breath. The sheer silk of her bodice clung tightly to her heated skin, the damp air making the fabric practically translucent.

Samuel’s hazy gaze dropped immediately. He could trace the clear outline of her swollen nipples pushing against the silk, the tight peaks practically begging for his mouth. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.

A low, strained whine rumbled in his throat. His hips gave an involuntary jerk upward, seeking friction, but the rigid iron rod lodged inside his thick length sent a sharp sting of denial straight to his brain.

Heena regained her composure, a wicked smirk returning to her flushed face as she noticed his desperate, hungry stare.

"Getting a little too bold, aren’t we?" she whispered.

Her hand drifted down his sweat-slicked stomach, her nails lightly tracing the rigid muscles. She brushed past the coarse hair at his base, making his thick shaft twitch, before her fingertips finally grazed the exposed, cold metal ring of the plug.

Samuel let out a choked sound. His large hands curled into tight fists against the floorboards, knuckles turning white.

She didn’t pull it out right away. Instead, her other hand reached up to his broad chest, her thumb deliberately flicking the edge of one of the wooden pincers.

He bit his lower lip hard to hold back a groan, his chest arching up into her teasing touch. His inverted nipples, now swollen and bright red, throbbed inside the tight wooden clamps.

"Since my husband is so eager..." Heena murmured, her slender fingers finally gripping the base of the slick metal rod.

She leaned in, her breasts brushing against his clamped chest.

"Let’s see how much of a mess you make."

With an agonizingly slow, deliberate twist, she began to pull the iron out.

The metal gave a wet *schlick* as it slid against his sensitive inner flesh.

Samuel’s breath caught in his throat. His hips jerked off the floorboards, instinctively chasing her hand.

Heena didn’t rush. She kept her grip firm, dragging the smooth, cold iron upward millimeter by millimeter. The stark contrast of the chilled metal leaving his boiling hot core sent visible shivers rippling down his taut abdomen.

"Hold it," she whispered.

He couldn’t.

The moment the rounded tip breached the slit with a soft, squelching pop, the dam broke.

A guttural, animalistic groan tore from his throat. Hot, thick white ropes erupted from him, shooting upward. The force of his long-denied release painted the slick head of his cock, splattering across Heena’s delicate fingers and pooling onto the dark wooden floor beneath them.

He jerked helplessly. His broad chest rose and fell in jagged gasps, the wooden clamps biting into his flushed skin with each heave as he unloaded his pent-up frustration.

Heena just watched, her lips parted slightly.

A stray drop of his seed had landed right on the sheer silk covering her thigh, the hot white contrasting sharply against the dark fabric. She smeared it thoughtfully with her thumb, feeling the damp heat soak through to her bare skin.

Samuel collapsed back onto his elbows, his strength spent. His eyes were hazy, his chest heaving, while his thick length still twitched as the last few pearlescent drops spilled over the crown.

"Look at you," Heena hummed, dropping the sticky iron rod to the side with a sharp clatter.

She leaned down, deliberately wiping her coated fingers right across his tight, sweat-slicked abs.

"Such a sloppy guard."