Chapter Twenty-Five #2
“You don’t have to do this,” he said, and no one in the history of the world had ever sounded less convincing. “I wouldn’t ask you to do this, Remi. I’d go on my knees for you a thousand times before I ever asked you to.”
That part was sincere, though. And how many times had he used his mouth to pleasure me? As often as I’d let him.
I licked my dry lips, and he let out a gut-punched groan, eyes widening. “You could tell me how to do it, then,” I suggested.
“Oh, fucking fuck,” he said, and let me lean back in, still holding my head, but cradling it now, caressing me.
“First you start with, ah. Oh gods. That.” I kissed the tip of his cock.
It left a smear of salty sweetness on my lips, and it felt softer than I’d expected given how vigorously he used it to pound my insides into jelly.
This time I parted my lips, kissing his cockhead the way I’d have kissed his mouth, letting my tongue circle around it.
“Exactly like that,” he said, voice hoarse.
“Open your mouth, sweetness. Take a few inches. Like that.”
I opened obediently, heart pounding, my cock painfully hard, clenching the muscles of my ass and imagining that thick cock sliding deep into my hole as Stefan nudged it between my lips.
He rubbed his cockhead over my tongue, bumping against the roof of my mouth, filling this part of me as thoroughly as he always filled the other.
I tried to open more, to let him push into my throat, because nothing else mattered but this, pleasing him, belonging to him…
He pulled back and I chased him, sucking at his cock, whimpering.
“You’ll choke,” he said. “I’ll come down your throat like a fucking animal if you don’t stop. And you need me, don’t you? You need me by now. Come on.”
“Stefan,” I murmured, and he caught me under the arms and yanked me to my feet, tearing off my shirt before taking me in a kiss that stole the last of my wits.
He devoured me, my lips and my tongue and his tongue thrusting into me, his hands all over me, touching and teasing, and then shoving my breeches down around my knees.
He took my ass in his hands, squeezing and lifting me, fingertips tugging my hole open, pulling me against his eager cock, trailing wetness over my stomach.
I couldn’t do anything but cling to him, kneading my fingers into the taut muscles of his back and squirming in his grasp, my whole body alight with nothing but need for him.
He spun us around and landed on top of me on the bed, crushing me into the mattress. I kicked my breeches off and arched up, spreading my legs and wrapping my thighs around him.
His cock pressed down on mine the way his body had me held down, the shafts rubbing, mine bending back as my cockhead caught on the ridge of his.
His balls settled between my legs, mine pressed between my cheeks.
He thrust once, and everything lit up with the softest, hardest, most perfect friction.
The pleasure of it shuddered all the way up my spine, and I froze, transfixed, staring up at him in shock.
“Oh, gods,” I gasped, my fingers digging into his arms. “Oh!”
Stefan grinned down at me wolfishly. “You didn’t think you’d learned all there was to know about this, did you? Do you need me? Or can you wait for that while I show you how good this can be?”
Gods, did I need him? What a ridiculous question. I could give him the answer he’d overtly asked for, and tell him that my curse could wait.
Or I could tell him the truth, the real truth—and those words, and all they meant to me, quivered on the tip of my tongue. It hardly mattered, because he rolled his hips, and they fluttered away. All my muscles clenched, and I caught at him and moaned and let him show me.
Gods, it was good. Better than I could’ve imagined, with his kisses hot on my throat and his body moving over mine, as intimate as his body moving inside mine, because it was Stefan.
My husband, wrapping his arm under my waist and clutching me close, thrusting harder as I writhed beneath him and spread my legs as wide as they’d go.
Everything became heat and sweat and friction and my soft, rhythmic gasps as he took what he wanted from me and gave me everything.
I spilled all over his cock and mine, the wetness easing his motions for a suspended split second—and then he groaned and clutched me so tightly he squeezed the last gasp of breath out of my body, shaking as he slicked us both all over again, my cock and stomach and thighs, rubbing it into me with his last thrusts.
Stefan stilled, one arm still under me, the other buried in my hair. His panting breaths fanned hot over my ear where he had his face pressed to the side of mine.
“Remi,” he said softly, and kissed my temple. “I can be ready again in a couple of minutes. I’m sorry. I didn’t give you the chance to answer me before I lost my mind.”
Now that my own ability to think had started to slowly return along with my ability to breathe, all the words that he’d driven out of my head came rushing back.
“My curse hasn’t come on yet.” I swallowed hard, but I couldn’t lie, not about this.
Not even by omission. Not while I lay pinned under the weight of his body and with my magic twining itself around him, begging to make us one.
And it wouldn’t help to try to hide anything, in any case.
As soon as he lifted his head and gazed down at me with those dark, knowing eyes, I’d crumble.
I blinked up at the ornately painted ceiling and savored the firm muscles of Stefan’s back under my palms. “I just needed you. I always need you. Any way you’ll have me, Stefan.
I almost lost you. I almost—I need you.”
“Any way I’ll have you,” he repeated slowly. He lifted his head, and I’d been wrong. His expression wasn’t knowing at all. In fact, he looked as baffled as if I’d been speaking in another language. “Any way I’ll have you?”
“Well, yes,” I stammered. What had I said to confuse him? “Does the thought of, of having me any way you want sound so dreadful? I don’t understand why you—”
“You don’t understand? You don’t—Remi! I married you under false pretenses.
I lied to you. I neglected you. I made you miserable.
You haven’t accepted my apologies, and I see no reason why you would, and even if you did, I’d never forgive myself.
I’ll be on my knees begging for any way you’ll have me, for as long as it—”
“I love you!”
“—takes for you to—what? I beg your pardon?”
“You heard me,” I muttered, and my face had gone so unbearably hot, my eyes stinging. I turned my face away. “You heard me, Stefan. If you don’t—I don’t suppose you’ve been in love, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be.”
“I can think of a lot of reasons why you shouldn’t be,” he said, with a strange tone to his voice I’d never heard.
He slid his arm out from under me and propped himself up on his hand, carding the other through my hair and cupping my jaw, gently trying to turn my head toward him.
I didn’t budge. “You’re right. I haven’t.
Until very recently, I thought it was a lie people told themselves in order to justify their bad behavior. Remi, will you please look at me?”
When I did, I found him frowning, eyes shadowed. I bit my lip, and his glance flicked down to my mouth.
“You’re very young,” he went on, as I lay there in frozen horror, still unable to believe I’d told him I damn well loved him, and why, why would I be such a fool?
He wasn’t helping me feel like less of one by saying, “Your magic makes you—your magic wants me. It’s not you, Remi.
I was going to offer you a divorce.” His jaw worked.
“I was going to try to offer it to you. If I could force myself to do it. You may have noticed, I’m a selfish bastard. ”
It took me a long, breathless moment to work through all of that.
A divorce. He’d meant to offer me a divorce?
“You meant to divorce me?” My voice rose to a high, absurd pitch that would’ve been humiliating if I hadn’t already reached my peak in that regard.
Stefan still lay on top of me, both of us a sticky, spent mess, and the fresh sheets would be all damp and filthy, and by all the gods, there would be no excuse whatsoever for this debauchery if we weren’t married!
“Remi, no! Of course not! Not divorce you, let you divorce me, if you—”
“If I what? If I what, Stefan?” I shoved at him, and it was infuriatingly like shoving a stone wall.
“I meant, if you—”
“It was fucking rhetorical!” I couldn’t hold this much rage.
My chest would explode, and my skull would explode, and I’d light him on fire!
“You’re not just a selfish bastard, you’re a patronizing bastard!
I’m very young? You married me this way!
You knew I—get off of me! Fine! I don’t love you, and I’ll divorce you this afternoon! Are you happy now?”
Stefan’s eyes blazed, and his jaw set, and—oh no.
Oh, gods, I’d pushed him too far. As fast as a striking cobra, he shoved up off the bed, caught my arms, and pinned my wrists over my head with one hand.
I twisted in his grip, but he held me with no apparent effort at all, and my cock started to harden again. Damn it all to hell!
“Fucking rhetorical?” he snarled. “I’ll give you fucking rhetorical.
No,” he said, and slid the other hand up my chest, resting it across my throat and nudging my chin up so that I had to meet his eyes.
“No, I will not get off of you. I’m going to kiss you.
And then I’m going to lick and kiss and suck every part of you I can reach, which will be all of you.
And then I’m going to fuck you until you can’t move, and if you try to move, I’ll fuck you again, and then you can divorce me if you fucking want to.
Even though, gods, fucking gods, you’re everything.
You’re my life. I don’t—there’s nothing I can fucking do about it,” he said roughly, a dark red flush spreading over his cheeks.
Oh, this was even worse than when he’d tried to apologize to me after I discovered his reasons for marrying me.
If my heart hadn’t been trying to beat its way out of my chest, I might have been fascinated by the sight of a man who could barely admit to having feelings at all, who’d gone through his life showing none of them, trying to declare them.
To me. Gods. Trying to declare them to me. I gazed up at him, wide-eyed with shock, the giddy bubble growing in my breast making it almost impossible to speak.
Almost. I managed to choke out, “You have to actually say it, Stefan. The actual words.”
His eyes softened, and the hand on my throat went from holding me to caressing me, thumb sweeping over my lower lip.
“You need me to tell you that I love you, Remi?” he asked, very low, with almost frightening intensity.
“All right. I love you. I’d die for you.
I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to live for you instead, unless you divorce me, and then I’ll die at the bottom of a brandy bottle, probably.
But I’d rather have you,” and he bent down to trace the path his thumb had taken with his tongue, “however I want.” He kissed the corner of my mouth. “Like you said. Please.”
This time his kiss lingered, and I parted my lips, clinging to him, the world spinning around me—that optical illusion again, with everything settling at a slightly different angle. Now I couldn’t see anything but Stefan, his smile, the light of love in his eyes.
“You really love me?” It came out breathy and plaintive and desperate, and he kissed the plea off my lips in a way that answered my question more thoroughly than more words could have.
“This isn’t a bad decision you’re trying to justif—mmm.
” His tongue swept through my mouth with intent, and I wriggled around, and he groaned and started to move between my legs again, hips shifting back and forth, cock beginning to nudge at me.
“I’ll take that as a no, then, or is it a ye—oh, Stefan. Oh, yes, please. Stefan! ”
He lifted his head from where he’d sucked a nipple into his mouth and began to knead the soft flesh around it. “Yes, I love you. And you’re going to tell me you love me again, too. Over and over again, sweetheart. While I prove how much I love you.”
“Oh, gods,” I panted, and then whimpered as he held my eyes with his, pulling my nipple between his lips and flicking it with his tongue. The pulse of tight heat that sent down between my legs nearly made me faint. “I love you!”
“On the other hand, I may be a bad decision,” he said, and moved to the other side of my chest, kissing along the way. He glanced up at me and grinned. “But I’m going to be the kind of bad decision that justifies itself. You have my word on that.”
And he spread my legs and bent down, kissing me, loving me, making me his. I spared a single thought for the servants outside the room as my cries echoed off the ceiling, and then I forgot the rest of the world as Stefan kept his word.