28. Mister Who?
28
Mister Who?
Aliza
I dris’ hands, enormous but gentle, slid to my waist, and there was nothing left in the world but that touch, his body and mine, our lips, our breath, our hearts, everything melding together.
Our kiss was gentle, a testing first step into the unknown, this new and scary but oh-so-beautiful path we’d decided to walk together.
My pulse pounded in my throat, skipping and fluttering with every brush of his lips. How could he do this? How could he make my body react with such vital feeling? Was it magic, or the bond, or was it the sneaking, niggling suspicion that maybe, just maybe, I loved him?
It was madness, that was what it was. How could I fall in love with someone in just a few weeks, especially when half of those had been spent on animosity and resentment? I was a sensible girl, I didn’t go around with a head full of dreams and a wistful heart. Yet, here I was, and there he was, and if this wasn’t love and madness all tangled together, I didn’t know what else it could be.
As though he’d read my thoughts, or maybe my feelings, Idris leaned back slightly, breaking the contact between our lips. He gazed at me with soft, feline eyes.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” he murmured, “but I am besotted with you. ”
Oh my god, besotted? I’d never heard the word spoken aloud, never mind used to describe how someone felt about me . It was a word for movies and romance novels written hundreds of years ago. It melted me like butter.
“Bloody hell, Mr Darcy, that’s enough to make a girl swoon.”
His eyes clouded, and the softness of his expression tightened. “Who is Mr Darcy?”
Was he jealous? I grinned, relishing the completely idiotic thrill that he might be possessive over me. “He’s a fictional man, and the standard to which real men, and males , are held.”
Slowly, Idris pushed away from the counter, forcing me to take a step back and tilt my head to maintain eye contact. His hands never left my waist. “There will be a new standard before the night is out.”
My stomach jolted at the thrill of his suggestion, knocking the world off its axis. I opened my mouth, half in shock, half with a mind to say something witty or sexy, but before my brain could catch up, Idris swept in. This kiss was different, claiming. His tongue rolled into my mouth, lapping against mine, insistent and domineering, as sharp fangs snagged my lip.
The world swayed, and I threw my arms around his neck. Balance, or need? I didn’t know or care. I clung to him, relishing every inch of contact between us, every place where our bodies collided.
His hands left my waist, sliding up my ribs with precise, firm strokes. My skin, still hidden beneath fabric, lit up at his touch, leaving a sparkling trail in his wake. Damn this dress. I needed his hands on my skin. I needed him to touch me , not it.
Idris spun me, and the absence of his lips on mine left me chilled and unsteady, but one hand slid around my front, splaying over my belly, holding me steady. The other ran through the lengths of my hair, a gentle drag that sent it spilling forward over my shoulder, leaving my back and one side of my neck exposed. The prince’s lips brushed my ear lobe, and lightning that had nothing to do with magic speared through me, straight to my tightening core.
My eyelids fluttered as my head lolled to the side, granting him access. He pressed closer, the heat of his body seeping into my back as lips became teeth, sharp little nibbles interspersed with silky laps of his tongue.
I’d been here before, I realised with a jolt. Not here, in this cabin, but I’d had his body pressed against my back and his mouth at my neck during many a dream, long before he’d ever opened his eyes to my kiss. It was him I’d dreamt of.
Inevitability, warm and heavy, sank into my bones, grounding me. This was exactly where I was supposed to be, and Idris was exactly who I was supposed to be with.
Each of my breaths became heavier than the last, my chest rising and falling as jolts and shivers electrified my body. I reached up behind my head, burying my fingers in Idris’ hair. His touch travelled lazily to my chest, cupping and squeezing. His hands might be huge, but I was no slender fae, and I had curves enough to more than fill those hands. Though the corset beneath my dress robbed me of some sensation, it did nothing to prevent the sweet, throbbing pulse between my thighs. A pulse that had my body arcing, pushing my breasts into his hands and my arse into his thighs.
“Is this what you want?” Idris’ breath bloomed in a hot tickle over the sensitive skin of my neck .
Barely able to form a coherent thought with his hands working me like putty, I nodded, my head rocking against his shoulder.
“I want to hear you say it.” The rough rumble of his voice quivered down my spine, and my muscles tightened in response.
“This is what I want,” I panted between breaths.
“You’ll need to be more specific.”
A thrill of excitement and trepidation exploded in my belly. “I want you to fuck me, Idris. Make me forget the name of every man I’ve ever been with.”
His grip tightened, fingertips biting almost on the edge of pain as he groaned his approval against my shoulder. “How serendipitous, because that is exactly what I’m going to do.”
Sliding his hands to my hips, he held me firm and rocked his pelvis against me. Something long and hard pressed against the small of my back, backing up his words with knee-buckling evidence. I gave a needy little whimper, writhing against him. My heart ratcheted against my ribs. Part of me wanted to run and hide from the sheer size of the bulge pressing against my spine, the part that remembered exactly how he’d stretched my jaw. But the other part of me remembered too, and she panted in anticipation, overriding all sense of self-preservation. Maybe he wouldn’t fit. Maybe it wasn’t anatomically possible, but I was nothing if not a trier.
He dropped my hips and stepped back, but a featherlight brush of skin between my shoulder blades told me he was unfastening the row of tiny, satin-covered buttons running down the length of my spine.
Patience. That was what I needed. It was in short supply as I waited, chest heaving, but with every breath, the bodice grew looser, gaping away to reveal flesh all but spilling over the corset. Idris’ hands whispered lower, and lower, before coming back up to my shoulders and slipping under the neck of my gown. Slowly, achingly slowly, he dragged his palms down the outside of my arms, taking my sleeves and bodice with him. Finally, the fabric slipped over my hips, puddling around my feet.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention as I felt Idris’ gaze rove over me, an almost physical shiver over my skin. A smile curved my lips as I pictured him admiring the over-the-knee stockings and corset that had come with the dress, teamed with the lacy French knickers I’d brought from home. The style was particularly flattering on my peachy arse, displaying the curves to their best advantage. Had his pupils blown wide? Was his chest heaving the same as mine? Was his cock twitching in anticipation of sinking into me?
His fingers were back, jerkier this time as he fumbled the knot of my laces and began yanking them free. It was the work of a moment before my corset fell away, and chill air rushed to bite my skin. Next, my knickers slipped over my hips and dropped to my ankles. A moment of stillness followed. Was he taking in the view?
“Turn around.”
His voice was hoarse, and I couldn’t help but smirk as I obeyed, stepping out of the dress and kicking it to one side. My tits jiggled at the motion, drawing the prince’s hungry eyes to my peaked nipples.
“Fucking beautiful,” he hissed.
“Seems unfair that you’re still dressed.”
At once, Idris wrestled his shirt over his head, tossing it carelessly aside. I didn’t bother watching it sail through the air, because holy shit, this prince was gorgeous. Each beautifully honed pec was bigger than my head, and his shoulders were enough to make my knees wobble. I’d seen him shirtless before, I’d even cuddled him like this, but I’d never had the opportunity to stare, to drink my fill of that mouthwatering sight. He was a bear of a male. A god. A work of art. A living sculpture.
He was not without his imperfections; silver scars peppered his fair skin, giving off a muted gleam in the sunlight. It was rude to stare, but my eyes lingered on each and every one of them. Many of them had been inflicted by Jacques. The last time I’d taken notice of them, they’d still been open wounds, caused by my foolishness. Now, each mark only enhanced his masculine physique.
His abs rippled as he whipped off his belt, drawing my gaze lower. He unbuttoned his trousers, and I followed the ridge of that deep V as he shucked them off.
His cock sprang free, and my mouth went dry. My memory hadn’t done it justice.
The smug tilt of Idris’ chin told me he knew every single thing running through my mind. “Happy now?”
“How can I be happy when you’re not touching me?”
He all but charged, sending us staggering until my back collided with a cool, hard surface. Wood rattled. His frantic mouth was on me before the vibrations of the impact stilled, exploring and tasting the flushed skin of my chest. He dipped low, his hands sliding down my inner thighs and between my knees. My feet whipped from under me and I squealed, throwing my arms around his neck, but I didn’t fall. He hooked my legs over his elbows and braced against the wall, crushing my thighs to my ribs and spreading me wide.
Holy shit. I’d asked him to fuck me, and apparently, he was going to do exactly that. The way he’d fisted my hair during last night's encounter had given me an inkling that he might be a little kinky, but I hadn’t anticipated this. I was utterly helpless against such size and brute strength, and I loved it. He could do whatever he wanted to me, and all I’d be able to do would be take it. In this position, pinned and splayed, I couldn’t even writhe.
His lips found mine, and I moaned into his mouth as his bare skin pressed against my throbbing centre. My body didn’t understand what my brain knew, that it was fruitless to struggle, and my hips squirmed, desperate for friction.
“I don’t think so,” he snarled against my mouth, his lips brushing mine with every word. There was menace in his tone, and it shivered over my skin, warning of danger. My body responded like the prey it was, my pulse quickening, muscles quivering in anticipation of flight, as though I had the slightest chance of escape even if I wanted it. I didn’t. I definitely didn’t.
As though he could hear my thundering heart and liked it, he dipped his head, dragging his tongue over my pulse. The edges of the world frayed, torn apart by his touch.
His arms shifted under me, and I slid higher up the wall, my hair pulling taut, trapped behind me, until my chest was level with his face. Without warning, Idris sucked a nipple into his mouth, hard. I yelped, my hands flying to his hair and snaring it. I pulled him closer as his tongue swirled, sending bolts of desire racing through me, scorching every nerve.
With a pop, he released my nipple, and cold air rushed to replace the heat of his mouth.
Green eyes snared mine, skewering me. “Tell me to stop.”
Icy panic pierced the swirling fog of my brain.
“Don’t. Please, don’t stop,” I whimpered.
I had the briefest glimpse of widening pupils and flaring nostrils before he smothered himself once more, this time showering attention on my other breast. Teeth joined the fray, both blunt and pointed, their graze sharp enough that I threw my head back, my mouth falling open as I tried and failed to arch into the sensation.
Torture, that’s what it was. Glorious fucking torture, to be so powerless, to be driven and tormented and teased while being unable to do the slightest thing about it. My core pulsed with desperation. If he wasn’t careful, I’d come before he ever touched it.
My fingers tightened, curling in his hair, and my feet juddered and twitched, dangling uselessly behind him.
I half sighed, half moaned his name. A plea for mercy, but not the sort that would see me released from his hold. His answering groan rumbled into my flesh, telling me how much he enjoyed hearing his name on my lips.
With a final lick, gentle and languid, he released my nipple and then hoisted me even higher. Frighteningly high. My legs slipped over his shoulders as he raised his arms, and his gaze dipped to the glistening folds between my thighs.
What the hell was happening? How was I up here, with a gorgeous fae prince staring at me like I was a feast and he was starving? How was this my life? Was this really going to happen?
My answer came in the form of a long, reverent lick up my centre, and a flick over my clit. My cry echoed around the high ceiling as my thighs gave an involuntary clench, squeezing Idris’ head like a vice.
His eyes glittered as he stared up at me, devious and wolfish, looking as though he enjoyed every moment of having his skull crushed.
“So fucking wet. You taste divine. ”
Fuck. This had to be a dream. Things like this just didn’t happen. But if it was a dream, I never wanted to wake. I would rather die in my sleep, in this moment, than return to real life.
He licked again, his tongue swirling and flicking and rolling over me, coaxing moans to leave my body with every breath. I shuddered and twitched, driven to the brink of insanity by his skill. This was certainly repayment for what I’d done last night, with interest. Why had I delayed things? To think that this could have happened twice already…
“Idris, I’m close.”
“That’s the idea.” The words hummed against me, sending vibrations and tremors shooting through my body. He didn’t waste a moment before diving back in, kissing and licking and sucking.
“I want to… come on your cock,” I panted. I’d only ever been a one-time kind of girl, and I didn’t want this to end so soon. I wanted to feel this same desperation as he filled me.
“You will.”
But he didn’t stop. Didn’t relent. My protests scattered like dandelion fluff on the wind, leaving nothing but the urgent beat of need, the pooling heat. I teetered, high above the world, wanting nothing more than to free fall.
With another suck, Idris shoved me over the edge, flailing into open, rushing air.
My climax roared through me, a violent force that obliterated everything in its path. I fell and fell, buffeted and flayed by the searing rush, until I crashed, breaking apart, a thousand pieces of me scattering like shattered glass .
When my cries faded to panting breaths, Idris slid me down the door, dropping one quivering leg, then the other. I might have collapsed if he hadn’t gathered me into his arms. He kissed me, one tender, lingering brush of his lips, leaving my own taste lingering behind.
“Are you alright?” he breathed.
Words were beyond me. I nodded, blinking up at him. He was all soft, adoring eyes, a different creature entirely to the one who had feasted between my thighs.
“I need you to say it.”
Nodding again, I obeyed. “Better than alright.”
His gaze sharpened, his lips curling into a fanged smirk as his hand slid to my throat.
“Good girl.”