Chapter 39 Prince Sloth
THIRTY-NINE
Prince Sloth
I WOULD HAVE. I would have hiked her skirt up and sunk into her right there against the shelves. But something in me pulled back. Not from her, but from the reality of our setting.
I would not have my mate shouting my name where anyone of my court could come upon us.
I would have her.
But not here.
Not like this.
I took her hand instead, pressing a lingering kiss to her knuckles, my breath still wildly uneven.
Lore’s brows tugged together in confusion as I stepped back, putting some space between us, but I didn’t release her hand.
“Come with me.” I tugged her gently. “There’s somewhere I want to show you first.”
I held her hand possessively, anchoring her to me, and led her deeper into the library. The corridors blurred as we moved faster, book spines flying behind us.
We stopped only when the hall opened into a vast hidden chamber; the heart of the library, the heart of me.
The Library might be sentient, but it had gotten its spark of life from my own soul. No one knew just how connected I was to my library.
The tree of knowledge towered above us, its ancient roots curling into the floor, its trunk wide enough to cradle a small village. Leaves in a hundred colors flickered above, shifting like firelight to welcome us.
Lore stumbled to a halt beside me, her lips parted in wonder.
“Is this where we visited? With your magic?”
Instead of answering right away, I gripped the curve of her hip, pulling her back against my chest, letting her feel what she did to me, what she was to me.
“Yes.” My lips brushed the sensitive skin of her neck. “This is the soul of my House. And the place I imagined taking you just to see your face.”
She stilled in my arms, absorbing the words, almost like she savored them.
“You, Lord Stoic, imagined this? I think I might be swooning.”
I grinned.
I might not be known for being a romantic, but I was a quick study.
And I was highly motivated.
“Every damn night since I met you.”
I spun her around and kissed her, picking up on where we’d left off.
It was breathless and bruising, all teeth and tongue and heat.
She moaned into it, her hands already tangling in my shirt, tugging at it like she wanted skin, not fabric.
I broke the kiss only long enough to whisper to the room, “Library—veil the world. Then give me and my mate some privacy. I do not wish to be disturbed.”
I felt the Library bristle.
You will not maul our goddess mate on the hard floor like some common miscreant. Please, allow the wizard of wisdom to do its work. You, Your Highness, are shaming us and our splendor with your… fervor.
“Duly noted.”
The Library muttered several more admonishments, then got to work on the images I sent it.
I watched Lore’s expression as the leaves rustled, and the air shimmered as magic poured into the chamber, creating our own private sanctuary.
The roots of the tree shifted, curling in a circle to form a nest that acted as a makeshift bed.
From the canopy above, translucent fabric drifted down, soft and glowing with the light of a thousand stars.
I wanted something fitting for a goddess who ruled over the night.
The shimmering fabric hung around us like a tent spun from constellations.
The floor beneath us softened into a bed of pillows, blankets, and silk.
Lore spun in a small circle, taking it all in.
“Your library made this for us?”
“No,” I said, pulling her back against me. “I did.”
She inhaled deeply, then glanced up. I watched as she dreamed up actual stars and placed them like flickering lights around the chamber. The night sky was so close we could reach out and pluck the heavens if we desired to.
I looked down at my mate, forever awed by her mind.
And then I kissed her again, rougher now, deeper.
Her hands tore at my shirt, and I let her rip it open, buttons scattering.
She ran her palms over my bare chest, nails dragging down my tattooed skin, and I hissed through my teeth as she lightly skimmed over my erection.
“Tell me you’re ready.”
Her eyes met mine, fire, hunger, and a hint of mischief all rolled into one.
“You’re the one who’s finally catching up. I’ve been three plot twists ahead of you this whole time, Blondie.”
And then I was on her, lifting her, walking her backward into the nest of pillows as she wrapped her legs around my waist, our mouths never breaking from our kiss.
I laid her down on the silk as the canopy fell around us, keeping us hidden from the chamber and the world.
She reached for the laces at her bodice, breath hitching as her fingers slipped beneath the tight ribbon—
I caught her wrists before she could loosen a single knot, pinning them gently above her head, pressing them into the pillows.
“Don’t.” My voice was thick with desire and something dangerously close to awe. “Let me.”
She looked up at me, chest rising with every ragged breath.
“I want to unwrap you.” My lips trailed down her jaw, toward her throat. “Like the way I imagined in that cursed historical romance. All those fucking ribbons. I wanted to untie them with my teeth.”
Her body shivered beneath me, soft and warm and already yielding.
Carefully, so slowly it made her whimper, I let go of her wrists and ran my hands down her arms, over the smooth lines of silk stretched tight across her bodice. The laces were intricate and tantalizing.
I tugged one lace loose, then another, watching the fabric give way with every movement. Each inch of exposed skin was a reward, a revelation, my complete undoing.
“You were made to be worshipped,” I said. “And I intend to take my time.”
I tugged another lace loose, the fabric parting beneath my fingers. Her skin glowed in the magical golden starlight around us thanks to my mate’s magic.
I leaned in, my lips hovering over the swell of her breast, and she hummed a low, sultry sound, drawing my attention up.
“You know, if you keep undressing me at this pace, we might both die of old age before we actually get to the good part.”
I let out a low laugh against her skin.
“Oh, is that what this is to you?” I traced my tongue lightly along the newly bared curve of her breast. “Just the good part?”
Her breath hitched, but she held my gaze, even as her cheeks flushed.
“Well,” she said, licking her lips, “I am wearing an unnecessarily complicated dress because of our bond. I assumed there’d be a reward at the end. Sometime this century, though.”
I dipped my head, teeth grazing the underside of her throat.
“Oh, there will be,” I promised. “But first, I want to hear you beg for it.”
She inhaled sharply, her hips lifting against mine in instinctive challenge. My cock was so hard it ached.
“You first,” she whispered.
Gods help me, my mate would be the death of me.
A low growl escaped me, the sound very much not human, and her smirk vanished, swallowed by the heat rolling between us like a tidal wave of desire.
She lifted her hips again, trying to tempt me into action.
I continued to unwrap my gift, slower, more deliberate.
This was House Sloth after all. And I would take my time until she was begging for mercy I wouldn’t grant her.
At least not in this arena.
She smiled again, still teasing, but it was starting to falter with every breath, every inch of silk I slid off her skin. She was trying hard to not appear as wrecked as I already was.
I pushed the loosened fabric from her shoulders, letting it fall slowly down her arms, baring the delicate slope of her collarbone, the elegant curve of her breasts.
I pulled the last lace and finally bared her fully. The globes of her breasts made my mouth water as I mentally plotted where I’d taste first.
She gasped as the cool air kissed her newly exposed skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat in my gaze.
Her hands clenched around the pillows beside her.
“Look at you.” I cupped her breast, my thumb grazing the peak until it hardened. “Made of starlight and sin.”
Her breath shuddered.
“You’re really leaning into the poetry now, aren’t you? Who would have guessed.”
“Can you blame me?” My mouth trailed down the center of her chest, tasting every inch of her. “You’re like a prayer I never thought I’d have answered.”
I felt her heartbeat thundering beneath my lips.
I continued to slide her gown down her body, trailing open-mouthed kisses with each exposed inch of skin.
I kissed lower.
And lower.
And lower until she gasped and arched up into me, the silk pooling at her hips now, her thighs trembling.
“You’re not teasing me anymore, Peaches,” I murmured against the inside of her thigh, voice low and dark.
“I—” She swallowed hard, her wits finally abandoning her. “Please don’t—”
I licked the inside of her thigh, then blew a cool, steady stream of air. Her breath hitched too sharply to finish.
“Oh, no,” I purred. “Finish that sentence, my sweet, tempting mate.”
She lifted her head to glance down her body at me, dazed and desperate, as if trying to remember who she was before I touched her.
“I don’t remember what I was going to say.”
“Good.”
I kissed the place where her thigh met her core again, nibbling a little. She bucked up, trying to get me where she wanted me.
“I want you to forget everything but me.”
Then I finally gave her what she needed.
The first stroke of my tongue made her cry out, head tipping back into the pillows, hips jerking against my hold.
I licked deeper, slower, circling and exploring her like a man dying of thirst finally at the spring. She was warm, wet, and tasted divine.
I dragged my tongue through her slick folds, feeling her legs shake around my shoulders as I slowly devoured her.
I wanted her wild.
I wanted her undone. I wanted her mine in every sense of the word.
Her hands fisted the sheets.
She gasped my name.
And I feasted like a zealot worshipping his goddess at the altar of her body.
She moaned, a sound so helpless and beautiful it made my cock throb against my trousers.
Lore cursed, her hips jerking against my mouth. “Gods, you—”
She didn’t finish the thought.