42. Eris #2
Verena's back arches at that. She swears, throwing her head back on the pillow with her red hair a mess around her.
So I do it again. I continue to lap and taste, my moans of enjoyment and her sweet sounds of pleasure coalescing in this room.
Her hands tangle in my hair, pulling and tugging deliciously until she has me where she wants, her thighs tensing sometimes around my ears.
Soon, she's dripping the way I want. I slide my fingers through it once more, finding that entrance and sliding a finger inside her snug warmth.
Fuck. If this is how she feels wrapped around my finger, how will it feel to plunge my cock into her?
At just that thought, a sudden wave of intense pleasure builds in me so fucking fast that I freeze. I have to bear down and shut my eyes tightly to fend off the overwhelming urge.
"Eris?" Verena pants above me on the bed.
"Crones. I think…I think I can," I manage, voice strained.
She's still too drenched in pleasure to understand at first as she sits up, her hands still teasing through my hair.
"You can…? Oh—fuck, you mean you can come. Thank god. I didn't want to be the only one getting my metaphorical rocks off."
For someone so blunt, she uses many confusing metaphors.
Verena pulls my face up to hers, and I groan when she tastes herself on my lips.
I settle over her as she spreads her legs, still propped up to kiss me. When one of her hands moves between us and strokes my stiffness, I jolt and break away to pant into her neck.
"Sensitive?" she teases. She strokes me again, and the little carnal rasp in her voice makes me shudder. "I can't even imagine how pent up you must be. God, you're so hard. I want to suck on this next, okay?"
It's unbelievably difficult to contain myself when she puts that image in my mind—not to mention the pure, blissful havoc her hand is wreaking on me. I had no idea her touch there would feel so different from my own.
And then Verena guides me lower, arching her back as she drags my tip against her warm, dripping entrance.
Goddess. Crones. Faeries. Whatever power will keep me from finishing, please let me last.
I don't care how pent up I am. I need this to last longer.
But Verena is already slotting my straining need into the most incredible thing I've ever felt, swiveling her hips to help me slide in.
"Fuck," I choke, before ramming hard into her.
She gasps, throwing her head back as I truly go mad. Soon, I am thrusting in and out of her cunt, kissing and sucking my way up her neck as she cries out in pleasure.
She squeezes around me, adding to the sweetest agony I've ever known.
I grip Verena's thigh, raising it higher around my hip to grind deeper into her with a moan. When I do, she jolts, swearing and shaking. She clenches so tightly around me as she reaches her finish that I lose it.
My cock jerks and unleashes, my teeth gritting as the most intense sensation I've ever known sweeps through my entire body.
This pleasure is far more violent than our tender kiss earlier.
It's hungry and demanding, crippling my ability to think. Yet I know I will crave this—crave her—until the day my existence ends.
Finally, I begin to catch my breath, braced over Verena with my forehead resting on hers. She's still recovering beneath me, but her eyes sparkle up at mine.
She cranes up to kiss me. "That was…wow. Just wow. I want another round soon."
"Me too," I murmur.
Kissing her beauty spot again, I pull out of her. We both groan at the feeling. My heart is still racing as I lay beside her, bewildered by all that pleasure.
Verena arches a playful brow at me, reaching out to trace my jaw. "So, Mr. Shakespeare. How was your first hookup?"
Hookup?
I can't help the laugh that escapes me at the preposterous implication that this was anything fleeting.
Normally, I would tell Verena how incredibly wrong she is if she thinks she'll ever get rid of me now.
But I feel lighter than I ever have, so I just turn my head to see her better.
Her warm touch leaves my jaw to trace my cheekbone and nose, and my eyes shut as I smile.
"I've never felt that alive before."
"Glad to hear it," she laughs. "After all, I aim to please."
A contented sigh escapes me as Verena's warm touch traces over my lips, nose, jaw, brows, and everywhere else. I want this moment to stretch into eternity.
It's hell, knowing I will fade so soon with the full moon.
"Have you gone to search for your body by yourself?" she wonders out loud.
"That would be a waste of time better spent admiring you, considering I have no idea what I look like."
The sudden absence of her divine touch makes me frown. I open my eyes and start to protest, but she's already sitting up with a scoff, taking my hand.
"What? Come on, Beetle Juice."
Verena leads me from the bed toward the gilded mirror. I know what we'll find, but I still follow because I very much enjoy the view walking behind her naked body.
If she ever offers me a strip show again, I'm taking it. I don't care how torturous it will be to have no release—Verena's bare beauty is too addictive to turn down ever again.
When we stop in front of the mirror, she blinks. Her image in the glass is just as tantalizing as her presence, but no one else is reflected in the mirror with her.
"You have no reflection."
"None," I agree, wrapping my arms around her and kissing down her jaw and neck.
"Huh. And here I thought I was the vampire," she says in the tone of a joke.
All I have to do is stop kissing her shoulder to sigh heavily, and she laughs.
"I know. For the millionth time, you have no idea what I'm talking about. Just accept my otherworldly magnificence and move on, Pretty Boy."
My cock is already stiff again, pressing against the hot crease of her ass. It's such an erotic sight that I groan and rest my forehead against her shoulder, angling my hips forward to watch my stiffness slide forward and back over her backside.
I'm ready for another round, as she calls it, but Verena tips her head, seeming momentarily distracted.
"My bite mark is gone."
"Bite mark?"
"On my lip. That's so weird. How did—"
She's interrupted by a knock at the door. I go still, abruptly wondering if some guard overheard Verena's delicious cries earlier and is here, hoping to glimpse her lingering, flushed glow from the fucking.
Isenmerian or Aurefeldan, I don't give a damn—if someone unworthy overheard her pleasure, I won't need to get Wulf. I'll snap their fucking neck myself.
I'm already storming toward the door. "Conceal yourself, Fairest."
Scooping my trousers from the ground, I pull them on. Verena moves to the left of the doorway so she'll be hidden by the large door when it opens.
She grins mischievously at me as she begins taking out the remaining pins in her hair that didn't slide out during our lovemaking.
I open the door, already deciding I'll simply accept her disapproval if it's someone who has to die for overhearing her.
Instead, it's the knight Verena nearly fed on yesterday, dressed in surprising luxury. He must have just left the festival, but it seems he's all alone. No guards wait near these doors.
The knight is surprised to see me—yet there is an odd note of recognition in his gaze that I dislike as he looks me over, clearly understanding what I was just doing.
Who I was just doing, rather.
"The queen is occupied and shall be all night," I inform him, not bothering to hide my smugness.
To the left of the door, Verena smiles, rolls her eyes at my gutsy proclamation, and starts finger-combing her dark red locks.
The knight confirms my suspicion that he's an utterly arrogant, debauched scoundrel when, instead of looking upset or jealous, he just leans against the doorway and tilts his head.
"I see. You must be one of her Favored, too. Put in a good word for me with her, would you?"
Verena's face is so priceless behind the door that it takes effort not to laugh out loud.
Though I don't expect she'll be practical and accept the knight's offer of his blood, I can't resist using this moment to tease her.
"I most certainly shall, if you leave a name."
Verena throws a small hairpin at me. It misses by a mile, but the knight's attention drifts to where it fell.
He fights a smile and tips his head toward the door as if to ask whether she's on the other side. I shrug, neither confirming nor denying.
He grins. "Konrad. What's yours?"
Konrad…
Ah. No wonder he's dressed so well.
So, the knight Verena is determined to resist is really the same spare prince whom Reinhilde was so determined to add to her Favored. I would almost find it ironic, but I don't trust coincidences.
Instead of answering his question, I narrow my eyes at him. "Why exactly are you so interested in the queen?"
Prince Konrad rolls his eyes, glancing meaningfully at the door hiding Verena.
"No need for suspicion. I don't care if she's Isenmere's queen or someone else entirely. Whoever she is, I'm smitten, and I intend to fall more deeply in love with her, if she'll let me. So, Ruby, if you do change your mind about my blood—"
"Oh my god," Verena groans, shutting the door in his face.