The King’s Maiden (Camelot Court #1)

Chapter Twenty-Two

QUINN

“ B ut that’s?—”

“Not against the rules.” He glanced at his shirt, the tight-fitted button down straining over his chest and arms. “As long as you’re careful not to touch me.”

He pushed up higher to give me space.

I gulped, bringing my hands between our bodies and reaching for the first button. With shaky fingers, I pushed it through the tight hole and felt it release. One by one, I undid the buttons until his shirt fell open.

I drank in the sight of his bare chest like I’d gone days without water. Running over the hard planes of his pecs and the light smattering of hair covering his nipples, he said nothing while I took him in. But his muscles tensed as my eyes traversed the deeply defined ridges of his abs. Following the trail of light hair that dipped into the waistband of his black pants, it lured me down its path.

I gulped, and my heart raced as I tugged on his belt. Unbuckling it, I slid it from the belt loops, ready to toss it off the bed. Landon’s voice stopped me.

“Leave it on the bed.”

My fingers flexed over the leather, fist clenching reflexively at the dark promise laced in those words. I hesitated after setting it down.

“You’re not done, Maiden.”

I trembled as I undid the top button on his pants and slowly dragged the zipper down. Pushing his pants past his hips, I forced them as far as I could before laying back. He didn’t move, waiting for me to finish.

Brow furrowing, I stared up at him—a question and a plea dying on my lips when I saw his eyes. Dark, unfiltered desire stared back at me.

“Use your legs.”

I tried without thinking, jerking my leg against the tight restraint. The movement created friction between my legs that nearly drove me insane.

“Whoops.” He grinned wickedly as I squirmed beneath him. “My bad.”

“Asshole,” I hissed out between clenched teeth. “I’m not giving in to you.”

“Not yet.”

He straightened his legs out between mine, planking over me in a way that tightened every muscle in his body. Kicking off his pants, he rested his knees inches from the satin scrap of fabric covering me. He sat back on his heels and rested his hands just above my knees.

His fingers brushed my skin, and that slight touch sent an undercurrent of desire straight to my clit. I groaned, pressing my head back into the mattress. Biting my lip, I trapped the words on my tongue, begging to be released.

They were not the safe ones I planned to give him.

And he knew it.

Slowly, painstakingly, he undid the cuffs of his sleeves and removed his shirt completely. I fought hard to keep my eyes on his, sure that if I let my gaze wander, it would be even harder to resist.

He knew that, too.

“Look at me, Quinn.”

“I—I am.”

“All of me.”

My heart thundered so loudly in my ears I swore he had to hear it. Like a drum, it rapped out a frenzied beat as I lowered my gaze. Over his chest and abs to the dark lines of ink curving over his right hip. I’d been so focused on where the light hair below his belly button led, I hadn’t seen it.

But it, too, forced my eyes down.

The design, half hidden by the black briefs hugging his body, called to me like a siren waiting on the rocks etched into his skin. White-capped waves crashed into them, the crystal blue water disappearing beneath the fabric.

I tried to keep my attention on his right hip, but Landon’s hand distracted me, pulling my focus to where he and I both wanted it.

He palmed his erection through the thin layer of his boxers, and my hips lifted instinctively. I forced them back down and stilled. Landon watched while I battled with my basest desires, studying my features like a puzzle he desperately wanted to solve.

“Give me your hands.”

I unclenched my fists from the bedsheets, drawing in a shaky breath as I tentatively held them out to him. He kept his eyes on my face and reached for his belt.

“What are y?—”

“Shh.” He silenced any further questions by taking my hands, sweeping his thumb over the inside of my wrists. “Relax, Quinn.”

My pulse pounded beneath his touch, and I wanted to argue over the ridiculousness of his request. But the way he held my hands, softly caressing my skin without pushing for more, stopped me from protesting. He waited until my heart rate settled before speaking again.

“How long has it been?”

I blinked up at him, struggling to stay focused on the question. “What?”

“Since you were touched where you and I both know you need it.” His hooded gaze flicked down to the hem of my negligee and desire liquified my core as if he’d melted me with one look. “How long has it been?”

“A week.”

“Since you touched yourself?”

My cheeks colored at the thought of what I’d done in the shower before bed last night, only because I hadn’t expected to tell him about my perfectly healthy exercise in self-love.

Believing it would be enough to keep my head straight, I had been quick to find release after all the tense moments of the day. But I’d been sorely mistaken in thinking it would make me want this less.

I definitely couldn’t bring myself to admit that.

“Less than twenty-four hours,” I said, giving him a partial truth I prayed he wouldn’t recognize.

He nodded at my admission, looping the leather strap of the belt over my wrists. “It’s harder than you thought it would be, isn’t it?”

My eyes flicked to his erection, darkening the stain of red heating my face.

I looked away and nodded. “Yes.”

He murmured his acknowledgment but said nothing else as he looped the strap around and back over. Crisscrossing between my wrists and over again, he bound my hands together. Then, he eased my arms up over my head, letting his body follow the movement.

“Our bodies were made for this, Maiden.” Hovering above me, he reached for something I couldn’t see and secured the belt to it. “Designed to respond and react. To give and to receive pleasure. It’s natural to want it. To find yourself tempted even when you just had a release. The female body…” He slid down over my form until he fell back on his knees between my legs. “You were meant to receive endless pleasure. Given the ability to reach climax over and over again…Until you felt you couldn’t bear it any longer. Until you cried out that you couldn’t possibly come again. And do you know what would happen then?”

He paused, as if giving me the opportunity to respond. But he knew as well as I did I couldn’t speak. Any hope for coherent thought died as the picture he painted with his words filled my mind.

And he wasn’t done.

“Your body would still find a way to reach that peak if the pursuit of it was relentless.” He skimmed his fingers up my legs, the corner of his mouth lifting at the way my body tightened under his touch. “And I would be relentless, Quinn. Any Knight would be…With you beneath them.”

“Oh, god,” I whimpered.

My eyes fell closed as my pussy throbbed, and I moaned at the delicious ache it created. The ache he created with the slightest touch. Clenching my thighs, my core—my back arched. I pressed my head back into the bed, trying to stave off the need building inside me.

“How can I earn your loyalty just by giving…Or even by denying something you need?”

He dropped his head, pursing his lips and blowing softly between my legs. I cried out as everything coiled tighter inside me. And I found myself panting when he stopped.

“Landon.”

He raised his eyebrows as I breathed out his name, but he didn’t tear his eyes from my body. I writhed beneath him, going out of my mind with need—for him, for his touch, for any touch to ease the pressure inside me. I didn’t care.

I just needed it—needed it now.

“Fuck.”

It hit me that he was right. That I would fail if I didn’t figure out a way to fight the havoc he wreaked on my senses. I wanted to win—my mind knew I needed to win—but my body needed just as much.

And I couldn’t see how to get both.

But Landon knew.

“Do you know what’s stronger than that need inside you?” he whispered over my skin, locking his eyes on mine. “Stronger than pleasure?”

I shook my head, lips pressing into a thin line to stifle a moan. He inched closer to the hem of my dress, his face so close to where I wanted him, I nearly screamed. I bit down on my lip so hard, I almost drew blood.

Landon closed his eyes and breathed in the air, thick with need and my arousal.

“Trust”—he exhaled—“that the payoff will be greater if you save yourself for me. That I’ll give you everything you need when the wait is over.”

The timer beeped.

Our eyes locked.

“Such a good fucking girl,” he praised.

Shoving my dress up and my panties aside, he buried his fingers inside me. Sealing his mouth over my clit. Tearing a cry of relief from my throat. My back bowed off the bed.

And he was relentless.

His fingers plunged, pumping in and out. Curling inside me to hit places I didn’t even know existed. My body came alive as he quickly worked me into a frenzy.

Deep and fast, he thrust as eagerly as he devoured me. His tongue swirling over my clit, he lapped and sucked as if he’d been starved for days. His free arm looped under my thigh and clamped down on my hip. Pinning me in place so he could drive his tongue inside my slit and my body to the edge. He licked the length of me before latching onto my clit again.

An intense, blinding pleasure tore through me. I cried out. The waves of my first climax crashed over me. It came in a rush, bucking my hips off the bed.

His grip tightened, sinking my hips into the bed as he fully seated his fingers inside me. I clenched and shuddered around him. And before I could fully come down from the high of it, he pursued the next. Pushing me to the peak. And sending me careening over it.

Until I screamed. And screamed again. And again.

As my voice gave out and I panted for breath, he continued to work my clit, the oversensitive bundle of nerves throbbing with each slow suck and languorous stroke of his tongue. Two fingers glided in and out, twisting around and sliding over each other in a leisurely dance that lit up my core even as he allowed me to come down.

I moaned, a low and loud guttural sound that was unrecognizable to my own ears. My head thrown back on the pillows, I gasped until my body finally relaxed.

Peeking down at him through heavy-lidded eyes, he stared up at me from between my legs—his face a mess of my desire. “Fuck, you’re—” He withdrew his fingers and his nostrils flared. He growled, “No, I’m not done.”

And he reclaimed me with his mouth.

“Landon!” I shrieked. “Oh, fuck!”

His thrusts quickened, hitting deep inside me. So deep, my body drew taut against my bindings, a stream of curses tearing from my throat. But he didn’t stop until I came again.

And when I thought I couldn’t bear it anymore—when I sobbed out my last release and begged him to stop but didn’t give him the words that would end it—he pursued me relentlessly.

Until I shattered one more time.

And he finally released me.