Chapter XIII Delay #2
He lifts me higher, his eyes bright silver as they bore into mine. I swallow and shake my head in confusion. No, I don’t understand.
Magnar frowns in thought. “Well, here’s an example.
Let’s say someone in the Agnidari court doesn’t treat you with respect, which is likely to happen.
You’re human, and we have our prejudices.
If a thing like that happens, I want you to come to me, whatever I’m doing, and tell me. And I’ll take care of it.”
I shake my head dubiously. “What if you’re in a meeting with your advisors? I was never allowed to disturb my father when…”
“I am not your father,” Magnar growls, his eyes flashing viciously. “Don’t expect me to be like him. If you need me, and I’m leading a fucking war council while the enemy marches at the keep, you will come to me and know I won’t turn you away. Do you understand?”
I nod once, taken aback by his anger. Magnar has no reason to be fond of my father, of course, but he treated him like a political enemy beforehand, the dislike impersonal. Now… I’m not sure.
“If anyone threatens you or makes you feel unwelcome, you will come to me. If you’re in pain, you will call for me. If you are scared or worried, you will tell me. You can tell your knights, too, but I want you to know you’re important enough for me to personally take care of you. Yes, Caliane?”
“Well…” I begin, needing to ask the question even though it might make him angry. “But what will happen if I don’t?”
Magnar releases a long breath and lowers his face until his lips press to my cheek. I shiver, surprised by the affection.
“If you don’t, I’ll have to work harder to earn your trust. I didn’t intend to command you just now. You are my queen, and you will do as you choose. I only want you to know you can come to me with anything, and you will be welcome.”
I sigh, confused beyond measure, and Magnar presses another kiss to my cheek, this time closer to my mouth. My breath freezes in my lungs, and I grip his shirt harder, my heart suddenly pounding. He pulls away a little, his face still so very close, eyes lowered and focused on my mouth.
His breath is fast, light, and when his tongue darts out to lick his lip, pointed and purple like Arvi’s, a small, startled sound tears out of my throat. Magnar’s eyes flicker up to mine.
“Would you hate it if I kissed you?” he asks, voice calm and low, face soft.
“I-I don’t know,” I confess, watching his lips. They glisten faintly with wetness, plush and soft, and dark blue. My heart stumbles, launching into a gallop of breathless exultation. Magnar hums thoughtfully, then lowers his face, his lips barely brushing mine.
The kiss is not even a kiss, just a disturbance of air between us, and I’m ready to burst. My veins fill with something light and fizzing.
He pulls back, watching me curiously. “And now? Do you know?”
I swallow, my throat tight. Everything else disappears, and it’s a relief so powerful, I sag into Magnar with a shaky sigh. “No,” I admit. “You should… Maybe try again. So I find out.”
“Yes, my queen.”
I gasp, and his warm lips press to my parted ones. I breathe in his air, and he moves gently, mouth against mouth, chaste and sweet. I don’t know what to do, so I lie in his arms, lips parted as stars explode behind my closed eyelids.
When he pulls back, I let out a little whine of disappointment. Magnar’s breath is unsteady.
“Did you hate it? Tell me.”
I force my eyelids to lift, shivering when I see how dark his cheeks are, how bright his eyes. “No,” I whisper. “Not at all.”
“Good.”
His hand buries in my hair, messing up my bun, but I don’t care.
He brings his lips to mine for the third time, and I reach up shakily until I grip the back of his head, determined not to let him pull away.
When Magnar kisses me, I move my lips in return until they slide against his in an intimate caress.
His hold on my hair tightens until hairpins fall out with a series of clinks against the stone floor.
His tongue licks my lip, warm and a little rough, and I open wider in a gasp of shock.
He slides in, and his taste fills my mouth, warm and spicy.
I grip his hair in desperation, trying to keep up, even though his kisses steal my breath away, and it’s wrong, not like in the books, but I don’t want to stop.
He brings me closer, arm tightening around me until I’m pinned to him, and his tongue retreats, his lips devouring mine, deeper and deeper, until I keen into his mouth. He plunges in again, just for a taste, and retreats, and this time, I follow.
When my tongue timidly enters his hot mouth, he makes a low, growly sound, a bit scary but delightful.
I squirm, lower belly pulsing, and he brings me closer yet, squeezing me so hard, I can barely breathe.
His tongue is rough, hard and pointy, and I don’t mind it at all when I lick it, so very curious, so enthralled.
I feel a prick, a bit of sharpness, and pull back. Magnar grunts and thrusts his tongue in my mouth, but I don’t move anymore, dazed and distracted when I think, teeth.
My hold on his hair loosens, though I don’t let go, and he pulls away, breathing hard. His eyes are darker, the silver swallowed up by his pupils. He looks a bit mad, his teeth bared, and I stare at them, thrilled and baffled. My tongue was just in his mouth, right there. His tooth pricked me.
It was thrilling.
“And now?” Magnar asks, abrupt and demanding. “Did you hate it?”
I laugh, wondering why he has to ask since it’s obvious. “No, my king.”