The King’s Maiden (Camelot Court #1)

Chapter Twenty-Three

QUINN

I woke up in the middle of the night, my hands unbound and resting under my cheek. The fluffy down comforter was pulled up to my shoulders and tucked in around me. At some point while I’d slept, I curled onto my side to face the window.

To face him.

Things hadn’t gone the way I planned. Definitely not the way I’d expected. My safe words remained unused, and I’d crossed all the lines I’d set for myself. But with my body so deeply satisfied, I couldn’t say I regretted it.

I blinked sleepily at the space beside me. Landon was…

He wasn’t there.

The last thing I remembered was him releasing me from my bindings. He’d freed me from the ankle cuffs, his fingers rubbing over my skin to ease an ache I hadn’t voiced. With that simple touch, he’d calmed me, again nearly lulling me to sleep. But I remembered him climbing up the bed to undo the belt around my wrists from wherever he’d secured it.

Once my hands had been freed as well, he settled onto the bed beside me. Not close enough to touch, but close enough to watch over me as I fell asleep.

But he wasn’t there now.

I sat up, my brows furrowing as I scanned the dark room. The curtains let in a sliver of moonlight, but it still took me a second to find him.

He sat against the wall on the other side of the room. He’d propped his head against the dresser, legs stretched out in front of him so he could fall asleep. The remnants of a frown remained etched in his features. Even in his sleep, he looked serious.

Everything about him—hell, this entire situation—should’ve had me reinforcing my walls. The mental blocks I’d had with my ex should’ve been plated in titanium around a guy like Landon Scott. Instead, I could feel them slowly eroding.

Climbing off the bed, I crept over to where he slept and knelt beside him. His features shifted, brows dipping as he sensed a change in his environment. That sharp focus of his couldn’t be dampened. Not even by sleep.

He watched everything carefully, always aware of his surroundings. I had no idea what sort of life he’d lived so far to warrant that kind of constant vigilance. But he noticed everything, even the things I didn’t want him to see.

Things I didn’t want anyone to see.

Something about that made me feel…

Protected.

It made me feel safe. Something about the way he’d chosen to sleep on the floor instead of beside me felt…

Wrong.

I shouldn’t have felt anything about it. I certainly didn’t want to feel anything about it. But I did.

My hand came up to his forehead, brushing away the hair that had fallen onto it before resting on his thigh. It only took him a second to open his eyes. He glanced sharply around the room, his posture tensing as he sat up straight. His eyes darted down to where I touched him, the dip between his eyebrows deepening before they came back up to my face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked hoarsely, searching my face for answers. “Are you okay?”

I nodded quickly. “I woke up and couldn’t find you. I?—”

His body relaxed against the wall, but the intensity of his eyes scrutinizing my face deepened.

My cheeks reddened. And I backpedaled hard from what I’d been about to admit, lying to him instead. “I had a nightmare.”

Because the truth was worse.

It was a ridiculous thought. Too many endorphins had addled my brain. A post-orgasmic mind scrambling. Only that could explain the feeling of missing him when I’d woken up alone.

And he stared at me like he knew it.

Eyes darting to my hand and back to my face, his lips parted.

I rushed to my feet, refusing to look at him. “You should sleep in the bed.”

Once I had my bearings and a step between us, I forced my spine to straighten. When I glanced back at him, I immediately regretted it.

His eyes weren’t on my face.

My negligee—the one he’d pushed up before feasting on my cunt like it was his last fucking meal—had ridden up again. And the hooded way he stared at me had nothing to do with sleep. He ate up the expanse of my bare legs as his gaze lifted, inching closer to the apex of my thighs.

Desire pooled between my legs in response.

His nostrils flared.

I slapped my hands down, hastily covering myself and snapping his eyes back to my face.

“Goodnight!” I said far too brightly, spinning away from him and faltering between going straight for the chaise or hiding in the bathroom. But at the sound of him chuckling under his breath, I whirled back around. “What?”

“Nothing.” He dropped his eyes and scratched behind his ear, that hint of a smile still playing at his lips. “We’ve just got a lot of work to do. That’s all.”

Pushing to his feet, he forced mine back a step on instinct. Instead of leaving it at that and going to bed, I opened my big mouth again. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I demanded as he walked past me.

“You’ll see.” He winked at me before climbing into the bed. “We’ve got a busy day tomorrow. Better get some sleep.”

He lay back on the pillows without pulling up the comforter—fully clothed like some kind of psychopath—and he gave me one last lazy glance. Tucking an arm under his head, he closed his eyes.

“Get some sleep,” he said again, his voice firmer this time. He patted my empty spot on the bed. “That’s an order, Maiden.”

I huffed, wound up with frustration that I wished I could blame on his vagueness. Glancing at the bathroom door, I considered going in there to take the edge off so I could sleep.

Of course, he knew that, too.

“If you can relax enough to nod off,” he muttered under his breath. Loud enough that he knew I heard him.

So, I marched my ass straight to the chaise and laid down.

I woke up again just as the first hints of morning peeked through the open curtain. It was still mostly dark outside, but the sky lightened as dawn approached. Stretching my arms over my head, it took me a second to realize I wasn’t where I should be.

Landon had moved me onto the bed after I’d fallen asleep on the chaise. He’d covered me with the blanket, and I’d curled onto my side, facing the window and the spot where he’d been the night before. But this time, it wasn’t empty. This time, he slept beside me, his body curved toward mine the same way mine had gravitated towards him.

The frown I’d seen on his face earlier had also changed.

Curled up beside me, he looked peaceful. The lines on his face smoothed, his features relaxed. For the first time, he looked like the twenty-one-year-old kid he was supposed to be, rather than the serious adult role he always assumed.

His hand rested on the bed between us, so close to my body I wondered when it had landed there. Had it been natural as he dozed off and got comfortable in bed?

Or had he reached for me in his sleep?

I couldn’t shut out the part of my brain wanting it to be the latter, or the way my body ached to touch him. The need to close the distance between us hit me suddenly. Something about the momentary glimpse of him so relaxed made me wonder what it would be like if he let go—if he came undone—like I had under his touch.

Maybe it was the haze of sleep, the orgasms and endorphins—I had no idea.

But before I could overthink what I was doing or why I shouldn’t, I found the waistband of his pants.

As I slipped my hands beneath it, tracing the line between his hips, his breathing grew tighter. Each muscle tensed beneath my fingers. His lips parted and his breath came out in soft puffs.

But he didn’t wake up.

Sitting up, I eased him onto his back with my other hand.

Every move I made—climbing over his side to lay between his legs, pushing his shirt up, running my fingers over the defined cut of muscle tapering his waist—I waited for him to wake up.

He must’ve been exhausted, because it wasn’t until I bent to brush my lips over his abs that his eyes shot open. With my head down, I couldn’t see his face when he realized what I was doing, but his sharp intake of breath resonated in the silence.

And his cock hardened beneath my breasts.

“Quinn…” He gripped my shoulders, but I sank down before he reacted, rubbing the length of his erection with my curves and pulling a groan from his lips. “You don’t have to?—”

“I want to.”

Bringing my eyes to his, I tried to show him how much I wanted to. With a silent plea, I waited for his nod of approval before continuing my descent.

Then, I kissed a path down his tightly sculpted abs while I grabbed the fabric at his hips. As I tugged down the barrier between us, he lifted his lower body to help me free him.

His eyes never left my face.

But eventually, I broke our stare and dropped my gaze to his erection. His hard and thick—and honestly, totally beautiful—cock jumped toward me like it was as eager as I was.

He hissed as my breath washed over him, and bit back a curse when I ran my tongue over the length of his erection.

Moaning at the first taste of him, I sealed my lips around his head and sucked gently.

“Jesus,” he groaned, bringing his hand up to the back of my head.

Mine wrapped around his base. There was no way I’d be able to take all of him into my mouth, but he seemed content to let me work my lips over his crown while I slowly pumped his shaft with my hand. My tongue darted out to collect the pre-cum building at his tip, laving over the slit in the head.

His hips jerked beneath me.

Unprepared for that first reflexive thrust, I gagged and pulled back. Breathing heavily, I stared up at him as I hovered over his length. “No taking control this time.”

His eyes flashed with lust and his incoming protest, but I cut him off before he could voice it.

“Good boys get orgasms,” I taunted.

He groaned again and let his head fall back. “Fucking hell.”

His hips tensed as he held them still. Emboldened, I tightened my grip around him. Working up and down with both hands, I slid the tip of his cock back inside my mouth.

I sucked deeply, eagerly wanting him to come because of what I did to him.

When it didn’t happen right away, the way it seemed to for me with him, I tried to take more of him into my mouth. But his size and girth were almost too much. Each time I sank lower, he hit the back of my throat and triggered my gag reflex.

Every constriction of my airway sent a pulse of alarm firing through me and pricked my eyes with tears. Easing back, I stared up at him, filled with regret.

“I can’t do it.” My chest felt tight and ached, but if I tried to grab for my inhaler now, he’d know that I needed it for something as simple as this, and I didn’t want that to make him doubt me. “Not like that, at least. Is that okay?”

He cocked his head and watched me as I wiped my face. “I don’t care how you do it. I’m trying to hold off because it feels so good, not because…” Sitting up, he took my face in his hands and swiped his thumb across my cheeks. “Whatever you do, just don’t stop touching me.”

At his words, I swallowed past the fear of not being able to do this and dropped my head. He cursed when I pressed a kiss to the head of his cock, licking the slightly salty, but somehow sweet, taste of him from my lips. Eager to please him, I took him back inside my mouth.

Sitting up, he pressed his arms down into the bed beside him, his fingers clenching in the sheets as I sucked harder. I used my hands and mouth like before, but this time brought one palm up to cup his balls. They tightened beneath my touch.

“Oh, fuck.”

He pulled back on my shoulders, popping my lips off his cock as he came with a shudder. Jets of cum spurted from his head, painting his stomach with pearly white streams. Yanking on the collar of his shirt, he whipped it over his head and used it to control the mess.

I stared with wide eyes, somehow in disbelief at how, even in climax, he had enough awareness to pull me off. Enough control to clean up right afterward.

Breathing hard, he stared at me without a shred of disappointment on his face. And while he looked satisfied when he was spent, I couldn’t help but feel cheated.

It wasn’t the same as what he’d done to me. The way I’d lost myself in what he did. The way he’d taken control.

Disgruntled, I let him pull me into his arms. Resting my head on his bare chest, my fingers played over his spotless ab muscles.

He hummed as his eyes closed, one hand stroking up and down my back. “That was…”

Tugging up the hem of my sleep shirt, he dipped into the waistband of my panties. He drew soft, lazy circles over my hip, until the sleep I’d pulled him from caught back up with him.

Our orgasm tally being astronomically skewed in my favor, I didn’t mind when he ultimately lost the battle and dozed off. I was too worked up to lie back and take the orgasms, anyway.

Worked up in a completely unexpected way.

Landon’s tight grip on control had sparked a challenge inside me. One that wouldn’t be sated by anything less than his complete and total abandon.

He didn’t know it yet.

But I did.