Chapter 10 #2
For a moment, he hesitates, then a new glint takes his eyes, and he caresses my face, padding his thumb on my lower lip. “This is the only thing I remember, but...”
He chuckles, then gives me a quizzical look. He doesn’t think I’m serious!
I return his stare not with amusement, but with a promise, my face set, doing my best not to show any sign of hesitation.
His lips part and his expression changes slowly from playful to something deep, intense, his eyes getting darker, searching into the depths of my soul, making me tremble.
I push him onto the bed. “Then sit.”
He’s eying me with either surprise or disbelief, and I really hope it’s not disbelief as I kneel before him, trying to pretend I’m more confident than I really am.
My hands are trembling as I run them under his shirt, then reach for his belt…
And he chuckles.
Great. I want to die of embarrassment.
My entire body freezes on the spot. “What’s funny?”
He caresses my hair. “Nothing’s funny. I’m happy, that’s all.
So happy that I can’t contain it, and it comes out as laughter.
Every second with you is an extraordinary dream.
Sometimes I can’t believe I’m so lucky, azalee.
” His eyes, his face, his smile bring a pleasant, soothing warmth to my heart.
“Let me guess.” I smirk. “You dreamed about this.”
He pinches my chin, then rubs my lips. “You guessed it right. Every night, when you were across the hall, I wanted you here, in this room. I wanted to undress you. Taste you. Claim you. Every night without you was a torture.”
“Can you imagine what would happen if I visited your room?”
“I imagined it too many times.” His voice is husky, almost rough.
And yet I won’t waste my chance to mess with him.
“I bet you didn’t. Do you know what you would do?
” I lean forward as he stares at me, perhaps wondering what I’m going to say or trying to find the right answer, but I don’t give him time to reply, and continue, “You’d yell at me to get out of your room and stop trying to seduce you. ”
Marlak frowns as if horrified at the suggestion and, when I’m convinced he’ll deny it, he bursts into laughter. “Well, in my defense… I was an idiot.”
He pulls me onto his lap, his hands roaming my back.
“No,” I protest. “I wanted to do it like in the dream. The one under the table. Like I said I’d do.”
“It’s our first time in this bedroom, wife.
” From playful, his eyes turn tender, then he rests his forehead against mine and wraps his arms tighter.
“I want all of you, not just your lips.” The corner of his mouth lifts.
“At least for now. Let me show you a sliver of all the things I wanted to do to you. Let me.”
When he speaks like that, he scrambles my thoughts, heats my body, makes me forget all my plans. Did I even have any plans?
I feel weightless as he lays me gently on the bed, his eyes never leaving mine as he positions himself above me.
“Let me look at you,” he whispers, his fingers finding the ties of my clothing.
I watch his face as he begins to undress me, his careful, controlled movements making my heart race.
His fingers brush against my collarbone, then descend to my shirt, making my breath catch.
Each string he loosens reveals more of my skin to his warm gaze, his hands caressing my exposed skin while the intensity in his eyes spreads a flush of anticipation across my body.
“You’re perfect,” he murmurs as he peels off my shirt, then bends to press his lips to my shoulder.
He lies on top of me, his weight pinning me to the bed, then trails kisses to my breastband.
With a soft bite, he lowers it with his lips, revealing the peak of my breasts, then he trails his tongue around my nipples as his fingers unlace the fabric.
His touch is magic, fire, light, a caress that ignites a flame within me, lights my core, fills me with desire.
His lips keep trailing my body until he reaches the laces of my trousers, carefully undoing them with his mouth, while one of his ringed hands cups my breast and the other he caresses my thigh. With slow, careful movements, he removes my trousers.
When I’m finally bare before him, he takes a moment just to look at me, pinning me with his gaze. Those eyes, so dark and deep and mysterious are like a phantom touch, reaching inside me, heating me with a magical fire, making me overcome with desire, overcome with his powerful presence.
His hands slide up my thigh, palms warm, thumbs pressing gently just by my entrance, igniting a new spark at my core.
Our eyes lock, and all I know is that I want him.
More of him. All of him. I want to make up for all the wasted nights when we were apart, each of us consumed with excruciating desire, when I was trying so hard to bury my love that I was smothering my own heart.
My heart—now beating and beating and beating, unrestrained, free.
I close my eyes and surrender to him, delighting in the sensation of his hand at the insides of my thighs, trembling when he settles his lips between them.
The first kiss is feather-light and shocking.
I gasp, surprised by the jolt of sensation.
He lingers, mouth exploring, tasting, learning me.
Patient and attentive, he’s listening to my body, feeling for the right touch, the right intensity, then shifting, each movement more intense.
My fingers tangle in his hair as the world narrows to the fiery point where his mouth and my body meet, until all that pressure erupts and pleasure radiates to my every nerve, creating a tingling sensation all over my skin.
I come apart with a whimper, feeling a circle of light around me, within me.
Marlak does not stop, carrying me through the aftershocks, gentling the sensations until I am spent and trembling and so completely his.
I reach for him, my fingers finding the hardness straining against his clothes. He groans as I caress him through the fabric.
“I need you,” I whisper, tugging at his clothing. “All of you.”
His eyes are dark with desire, holding mine as he removes his own shirt, his ringed finger moving button by button. I delight in the sight of his exposed chest, and when he covers my body with his, I melt in the feel of his skin against mine, his body so close.
And yet I push him back. His eyes widen, surprised.
“My turn, Marlak.” I’m still breathless, still dizzy, and yet I want to do this.
He raises an eyebrow in that way only he can do. “Oh, you want some milk?”
“If you use that word again for this, I’m going to bite.”
His chuckle is light and amused. “You didn’t tell me you liked biting, or I would—”
“I’m threatening you.”
At least he has the decency to pretend to be serious.
I leave the bed and kneel by it, then pull him to the edge, the way we were before, except that I’m naked now, tugging at his belt. For a moment, I’m back in our castle—the Amethyst Palace, where I’m crawling under a table, ready to love him.
“What?” He asks, a gentle finger under my chin.
“I was recalling the dream. Did you experience it clearly?”
“You mean the one where you were under the table and said the word I’m not supposed to say in this context?”
Heat rises to my face. “Yes.”
“Might I remind you, you’re the one who said it. I guess I remember enough, don’t I?”
I smile back at him, my tone now teasing. “Then you know what happens next.”
My fingers work at his belt with more determination now.
The leather slides free, and I unfasten the button of his trousers, my heart pounding so loudly I’m certain he can hear it.
I pull down his trousers, revealing the thin fabric of his undergarment beneath, the outline of him straining against it.
His eyes are dark, watching me with such hunger that makes my breath catch.
Intense. Almost fearsome, if it wasn’t for the thread of sweetness permeating them.
Still, quite intimidating. For a brief second, I hesitate.
Can I even do this right? But then I hook my fingers into the waistband and pull down his undergarments.
I stare at his manhood, hard and ready and beautiful before me. Thrilling. A flutter of nervousness takes my stomach.
“I...” My voice falters as I struggle for words, my throat suddenly dry, realizing I don’t sound anything even remotely close to sexy. “Tell me if I do it wrong.”
Marlak’s expression softens and he brushes my cheek with his knuckles, his rings grazing my cheek. “That would be impossible.”
I wrap my fingers around his member, feeling the heat and hardness beneath the soft skin. He inhales sharply, and the sound gives me the courage I need. I stroke him slowly, learning the feel of him, watching his reactions, then rub the tip with my bottom lip, teasing him—or at least trying to.
“Is this...?” I begin.
“Perfect,” he breathes.
I look up to find his eyes on me, pure fiery intensity.
“Azalee,” he whispers, his voice strained. “My love. You’re perfect. Beautiful. Every touch you give me is a marvelous gift. Every…”
I twirl my tongue on its tip, and his body trembles under my touch, his breath hitching.
“Perfect,” he mutters, clearly struggling to speak. “Always perfect.”
The corner of his lips lifts in a hint of a smile as he eyes me with renewed tenderness. It’s this smile, this tenderness that convinces me that I can indeed be perfect, that there’s no way to get this wrong.
I trail my tongue from the tip to the base, then back to the tip, teasing him. His eyes close, a grunt of pleasure escaping his lips, and I feel ready to take him into my mouth, to drink in his essence, to swallow his magic.