Chapter Twenty-Six
I froze for a moment, feeling Guinevere’s lips gently ply mine apart as my mind worked to catch up to the moment.
She was kissing me. I could hardly believe she was kissing me.
Guinevere’s sweet honeysuckle perfume crowded every one of my senses, consuming me as I heard the soft intake of her breath.
I was lost as to what to do next, the speed of which things were moving finally revealing just how little I knew of such matters between men and women.
“Wait—” I finally said, shame welling in my chest as I gently pulled my mouth away from hers. “Before we proceed I feel you should know…”
I trailed off, my cheeks warming. “I am… inexperienced .”
The word felt dirty leaving my mouth and I looked away from the shock in Guinevere’s brown eyes.
“Seriously?” she blurted, her fingers curling into the skin of my shoulders.
I nodded.
Guinevere shook her head with disbelief. “ How is that possible? You’re so charming? And hot? Aren’t women chomping at the bit to get a piece of you?”
A dry, sarcastic laugh rumbled out of my chest. “Gwen, I am the fourth son of a second wife—no matter how well I charm someone, that fact still does not change. There have always been few marriage prospects for me.”
I had always assumed I would die a bachelor in Arthur’s courts as there was no father of an omega, or even a beta for that matter, that would allow their daughters to marry me.
Besides that, no woman before had ever piqued my interest like Guinevere had. Everything from the confident manner that she spoke to the way her omega scent tickled every one of my alpha instincts—instincts that were usually so faint that sometimes I forgot about my designation entirely. I had been living the life of a beta for most of my years, so it was odd to relearn myself now as she hovered enticingly over me.
“Does it bother you that I have not experienced the flesh of a woman?” I asked curiously, hoping against hope that it would not be an issue. I wanted to kiss her again, to taste her lips and let her consume me entirely. I feared that I would crumble into pieces if she chose not to continue because of my inexperience.
But Guinevere shook her head roughly, her dark curls bouncing as she looked me in the eyes. “No, it doesn’t bother me at all. Does it bother you that I do have experience?”
“Not in the slightest.” I had always known Guinevere would be shared, and while I had no inkling of how the other three alphas in our pack felt, it had never bothered me much.
My alpha instincts had never erred much on the side of territorial—my inner-alpha was just grateful to be near its fated omega at all and was as happy as a just-fed babe right now.
Guinevere’s smile was broad as she climbed into my lap, her legs splaying on either side of my thighs. The movement brought her skirts up around her bare legs and if I reached down I knew that her skin would feel silky soft underneath my touch.
“Good,” she said, wrapping her arms around my neck, bringing our faces close together again. “Because I’d really like to teach you all about it.”
Leaning forward, I brushed my nose against hers, my lips just a breath away from kissing her again. “I believe I would enjoy that.”
Nodding, Guinevere pressed her lips to mine with more force than before and this time I was ready for her.
Her tongue was slick and hot as it danced with mine, her eagerness intoxicating as I finally let myself slide my hands down her body to explore. Even through the layers of her dress I could feel the warmth of her skin, the curve where her back met her buttocks, and the soft swell of her thighs.
I was torn between wanting to take it slowly—to savor every moment and burn it into my memory for years to come. I wanted to be the sort of man that could make her see stars, but at the same moment I wanted to feel her desperately.
“Easy,” Guinevere murmured against my mouth as I reached for the laces of her dress, her hand stilling mine. “Let me.”
I was breathing raggedly, I realized as Guinevere eased back and plucked at the strings herself. The top layer of her dress slid down around our laps before she shimmied it over her head, leaving her only in a linen underdress.
Then, in a flash, that was gone too and she sat astride my lap completely naked.
Though her skin was a pale shade of brown, her nipples were a darker pink and stood completely stiff, creating a stark shadow in the dim light. Her hips tapered out in a smooth curve, and there, at the apex of her thighs, was curly brown hair that matched the hair on her head.
She was a picture. Something only the most erotic of artists could paint and bring to life and I knew of no such artist that existed.
Most noblewomen would be shy with their desire—demureness having been practically bred into them—but Guinevere was as vibrant as a wildfire as she smiled down at me.
Her need was evident and I hardly worried I would burn up with it. Actually, I relished in the idea of it, that if I needed to die, that I would want to do it within this omega’s floral embrace.
“Your pants now too,” Guinevere said, her fingers dancing lightly down my chest, tracing the lines until she reached the ties that held my trousers together. “Lie back.”
I did as she asked, my back flopping into the mussed covers that I had not bothered tidying this morning.
She stood, her skin glowing in the dim firelight and tugged my trousers down.
Brown eyes took in my form hungrily and I felt a purr rise in my chest at the satisfaction that was clear on her face.
“Do I pass your muster, my queen?” I asked, a warmth pooling in my stomach as her eyes trailed from my face to my chest, and finally to my achingly hard cock that stood at attention as if a hound waiting for its owner’s commands.
And Guinevere already owned me.
I was sure I realized it that first night when she came tumbling out of thin air, all curly brown hair and indignant attitude. Then, over the past days and weeks I had become entranced—not just by her scent—but by her ability to wade into the unknown with just a vigor that I could not imagine replicating should our places have been switched.
Guinevere put a knee to the side of me, slowly crawling up my front, though she held herself high enough so as not to brush my painfully erect length. The ends of her hair tickled my skin, leaving a tingling sensation in her wake as she finally came to hover just above me, her brown eyes serious.
“You more than do,” she answered my question before dropping her face to mine.
I reached up for her, sliding my hands along her hot, smooth skin in an effort to explore what her body felt like without any clothes.
Her flesh was pliant underneath my fingertips, so much so that the skin dimpled as I gripped her just beneath her ribcage and shifted her to lie at my side so that I could continue to look at her.
“You are beautiful,” I murmured, my voice barely louder than an exhalation of breath.
Guinevere’s expression softened. “Touch me then—I can assure you that it’s so much better than looking.”
She pulled my hands from her waist up to her breasts, pressing my palms into her stiff nipples.
Then she let go to let me explore, her own fingers reaching in between us to gently wrap around my length.
The sensation was vastly different from when I did it myself—my hands were callused from many hours of sword fighting and practicing on my lute—but Guinevere’s bore none of that. Her fingers were like velvet as they gripped my length, giving it a small pump that had my hips shuddering.
“Do you like that?” Guinevere asked, pressing kisses along the side of my jaw.
I nodded, gritting my teeth as her fingers tightened one by one rhythmically. She nibbled on the skin of my neck, her teeth testing the sensitive skin.
It was as if I was her instrument and she was playing me beautifully, every time she squeezed her fingers, my hips jerked and my hands twitched on her breasts.
Guinevere seemed to be devouring my every noise with a relish as she threw a leg over my bare hip and pressed her slick cunt to the underside of my cock, holding it there with the palm of her hand.
“Come for me, Gawain,” she whispered, her eyes intent on my twisted expression as she began to roll her hips, her fingers tracing the veins of my cock, almost coaxing an eruption out of me.
Her words were a steely command wrapped in silk, and even though she was no alpha, I found myself obeying, my cock releasing in several spurts.
I watched as Guinevere swiped her thumb around the sensitive head and brought it to her lips, suckling the moisture from it with a low hum.
“Do you enjoy toying with me so?” I asked, my voice ragged as my chest rose and fell in rapid succession.
Guinevere’s mouth pulled up into a mischievous smile as she rolled her hips, the head of my already stiff again cock sliding through wet folds until it notched at her tight entrance.
“Perhaps,” she murmured before she pressed me inside of her with a gentleness that nearly made a whimper leave my lips. “Or maybe I just like the look on your face.”
I gripped her hips, pulling her flush against me, the entrance of her cunt pressing against my aching knot that had only ever been touched by me.
Brown eyes widened as they looked into mine, her mouth falling open with a moan that I swallowed with a kiss.
Our pace was devastatingly slow—a slight roll of her hips sliding forward to meet mine in the ancient dance that had existed for as long as humans had walked on this mortal plane.
Guinevere dug her fingers into the curls at the base of my skull and the pain of it mingled with the all-encompassing pleasure that was reverberating from where we were connected. She was blessedly hot inside, the slick walls of her cunt twisting around my cock mercilessly. Nothing I had ever experienced had felt like this before.
My senses were inundated by her. The silky touch of her fingers, her hungry moans, the taste of her tongue as it danced with my own, and the overwhelming scent of her perfume—the erotic scent of honeysuckle and pure sex.
“ Gawain ,” she moaned when one of my hands drifted in between our slowly thrusting hips and I tested the stiff nubbin at the top of her folds.
She liked that, I realized dazedly as I continued to touch her, exploring and testing her reactions. My free hand was pressed into the small of her back, keeping her body as flush with mine as I could manage.
I never wanted this to end. I wanted to die in her arms—to perish within her gaze and let myself be buried at her feet.
“Knot me,” Guinevere whispered in a hitched voice.
At first, my mind could not understand what she meant until she reached down, brushing my hands out of the way so that she could grip the thick ring of flesh at the base of my length, squeezing it harshly and nearly making me finish again, this time prematurely.
“Put it inside of me, Gawain, and knot me,” she said a bit more harshly this time. “You have to do it.”
A growl rumbled out of me as my inner alpha seemed to rise to the surface, pushing all rational thought from my mind.
My fingers dug into her tender hips in a bruising grip, the thought of leaving my mark on her in some kind of way pleasing my instincts as I began to slowly push my knot inside of her.
It was as if someone had lit a wildfire inside of my chest.
I came with a harsh shout, pressing my face into the crevice between her breasts as she clamped down tightly around my knot, her cunt slick as I emptied myself inside of her.
Guinevere’s gasps and twitching legs were vague and far away as I floated on the tingling warmth of it all.
Bite, bite, bite, my inner alpha chanted loudly. After years of ignoring such things I worried about doing it right, my rational mind immediately wondering if Guinevere even wanted me to bite her at all.
Bite , my inner-alpha insisted again, and without further thought, my teeth were buried in the soft mound of Guinevere’s breast.
Her gasp was loud as she held my head there and the bond clicked into place.
It was as if my heartbeat was not my own any longer—it now thumped in tandem with not one but two other hearts as the bond lit up with Guinevere’s emotions, and much more faintly, Arthur’s.
I could feel his surprise at being joined in his bond with his wife, but it did not feel as if he minded as I dozed off into oblivion.
No, instead it felt as if I had finally found my place, my family—my pack.
“Gawain,” Arthur’s soft whisper caused me to stir sometime later.
I jerked awake, staring up at the alpha half-afraid he would kill me now that the alpha part of me was asleep again and my rational mind had regained clarity.
“Your majesty—” I began, glancing down at the omega curled to my side, still asleep despite the sudden visitor.
But Arthur just held up a hand. “Be at peace, Gawain, I have not come to tear your entrails from your body or whatever thought is going through that panicked head of yours.”
The relief I felt was immediate. “Then what brings you here, my king?”
“It is Arthur when we are alone,” he told me, his gaze moving to Guinevere. “I am here to retrieve my wife. Until we are ready to reveal the true nature behind our pack, it is best if she wakes in our chambers so as not to alert the maids.”
His words were logical, but I found myself reluctant to let him pull the omega from my arms.
“Easy there, lad,” Arthur warned, though there was no anger in his voice. “You are unused to your alpha instincts and that bond of yours is fresh—but remember that even if we are a pack, I am still your alpha.”
Seamlessly, at his words, my inner-alpha seemed to fall obediently into line, going quiet in my head and letting the haze of territorial zeal I was feeling fade.
“Apologies, your maj—” I paused when Arthur shot me a look before sheepishly correcting myself. “Arthur.”
“It is no matter, you and I will learn how to navigate this together—hopefully with Bedivere and Lancelot soon.”
I snorted at that, thinking of Lancelot’s mood earlier. “They are exceedingly stubborn.”
“That they are,” Arthur agreed as he reached for Guinevere, wrapping her in the thick fur he had brought and lifting her from the cradle of my arms. She barely stirred, her cheeks still flushed from our earlier lovemaking. “But they shall need to, as Guinevere says, get with the program and soon.”
Arthur’s expression was far away and a bit haunted as he stared down at Guinevere’s sleeping face.
“Perchance,” I began slowly, wondering exactly how to broach the subject with him. “Is this about your prophetic dream you had?”
Arthur’s head jerked up and he looked at me, his expression turning guarded, but I could feel the panic faintly down the bond we now shared through Guinevere. “It is fate for us to be as one pack… but yes it is. Time is growing thin and not in our favor, Gawain. We must come together if we are to survive the coming months.”
With those cryptic words, Arthur bundled Guinevere close and turned to leave, the door to my chambers closing with a soft thud as I was left alone with nothing but my thoughts and the still lingering scent of honeysuckle.
There would be no more sleep for me tonight, I realized as I reached over to grab my lute, but perhaps there could be some inspiration pulled from the events I had experienced.