25 #3
“Fuck the game.” He pushes slowly, torturously into me, and I grab his arms, gasping at the exquisite friction.
“Vawn,” I breathe. “Oh… oh…” My head tilts back, and he plunges down to press his burning lips against my throat.
“No magic,” he whispers against my shuddering pulse. “Just us.”
“Yes, yes.” My body surges eagerly, instinctively. “Give me everything you have.”
“Everything?” He vents a raw chuckle. “I’ve got a crumbling kingdom and a stolen birthright.”
“It’s enough.” I cup his face, pushing back the pink strands of his hair. “I don’t need lands and titles and riches and glyphs. Just you.”
“Don’t make me cry, woman, or I swear—”
“You swear what?” I move beneath him, taking him deeper, and his silver eyes flash, dilated with pleasure.
“Shit, Syth. You’d better stop or I’ll come too soon. You know I like to take my time.”
“Let’s do a quick one,” I beg. “Quick and hard. Then we’ll take it slow.”
His gaze turns rebellious instantly, a naughty smile widening his lips.
“Oh no, Vawn. No…” I try to lock my legs and hold him inside, but he’s too quick for me—he’s already sliding out.
“I’m afraid I can’t oblige your impatience,” he drawls. “Remember, we’re playing a game.”
I throw him a scathing look and put my fingers on my clit, determined to please myself.
The second I do it, he grabs me and rolls me onto my stomach. The move is swift and graceful, like I weigh nothing. Sometimes I forget how strong he is—naturally stronger than me, despite my skill. He pins me there, with my breasts squished against the blankets.
For a second, my brain takes me back to the cottage by the sinkhole and the terror of the compliance glyph. My breath hitches, and I tense.
Immediately the pressure of Vawn’s hand eases. He sensed the change in my mood. “Are you all right?”
“I will be.” I shut my eyes. “Just thinking of that time—with that awful man—”
“Of course.” He stretches out beside me, face to face, and begins stroking my hair. “Can I do anything to help you?”
“Just that. It feels nice. And kiss me.”
The second his lips contact mine, everything else recedes, and it’s only the two of us again. His scent, his heat. His strong, slick tongue. His broad, soft lips. I turn on my side, and he moves with me, mirroring me. Synchronized to my mood, devoted to my pleasure.
I trace his features, loving him so much I can hardly speak. “My lord king,” I murmur.
His cock twitches against my thigh.
“You like that.” I smirk and kiss him again. “Your Majesty.”
“I want to take you,” he says between clenched teeth. “Say yes if you’re ready.”
“Yes, my lord k—”
It happens so fast that he’s inside me before I have time to say anything else. I’m on my back, thighs splayed, his shaft pumping into me and his hands pinning my wrists to the floor. My cunt is so wet that every thrust sounds thrillingly indecent.
Vawn’s back is to the fireplace, and the glow radiates around him, haloing his dark head.
His eyes are burning ice, molten silver.
I am overtaken, overjoyed, carried beyond myself and caught up with him.
Usually I need more direct stimulation, but this time, the movement of our bodies and the surging thickness of his cock inside me is enough—maybe because it’s been days, or years, or an eternity.
Maybe we’ve been waiting for each other forever.
The sex is different this time—sweeter, fiercer.
We are more secure with each other, fully given and received.
We transcend any sorrow of the past and any dread of the future.
None of that chaos exists—only brilliance and pleasure, warm skin and wet lust, shaken breaths and quivering flesh.
We are perfectly, violently one, and I climb toward the ecstasy with a series of sharp moans that peak in a shuddering cry.
As I clench around him, he relinquishes everything. I feel his body yield to mine, sense his relief as he comes apart, utterly melted, utterly mine. And somehow I know, with a fierce joy that could carry me through a lifetime, that he has never fucked anyone the way he fucked me just now.
We rest, limbs flung over each other, and then he leaves the room and comes back with a dish of snow, which he allows to melt on the hearth.
I watch him curiously, sipping wine. When the dish is half full of cold water, the prince washes his feet meticulously, one at a time.
Then he takes a bottle of glyph paint from the pocket of his discarded pants, searches my belt for my nail repair kit, and proceeds to craft a vibration glyph on the first toe of his right foot.
“You’re either a very silly man, or you’re far too serious about games of dice,” I tell him.
“Can’t I be both?” He throws me a grin and blows on the paint. After a moment, he runs his thumb over it to make sure it’s dry. “Come on, lovely. Show me that darling cunt. I promise this glyph is safe.”
If I didn’t like his feet so much, I wouldn’t give in, but he has such shapely toes, one of them graced with a ring…
and I know how good his vibration glyphs feel.
The temptation is too much, so I yield, opening my legs and letting him place that elegant foot against my center.
The glyph activates with his intent and my arousal, producing a light, thrilling buzz against my clit.
Whining at the delicious contact, I shiver there, totally at his mercy, bracing myself on both arms while he toys with me.
He probes the lips of my pussy with his toes until they’re slick and gleaming, and he goes so far as to nudge that first toe all the way inside my slit.
The gentle vibration undoes me and I come with a soft scream, my skin coated with sweat and my thighs shuddering.
We play the game dozens of times, and he paints new enhancement glyphs on both our fingertips so we can make each other come over and over.
He doesn’t varnish the glyphs so they’ll be easy to remove tomorrow, when he does my new set.
But I don’t think much about consequences, or plans, or anything except his body, his tongue, his beautiful eyes, and the whimper I coax out of him when my glyphed fingers are stroking his cock.
Eventually I realize that we’ve stopped fucking and fingering and licking, and we’re simply lying there, naked and exhausted, decorated in glistening streaks of each other’s cum and dizzy from countless orgasms.
“I think… I’m done,” I whisper.
“So am I.” He blinks sleepily at the ceiling. “This was the best night I’ve ever had.”
“Are you sure? You’ve been part of orgies.”
“Orgies are rarely as fun as they sound,” he confesses.
“I never thought they sounded fun.”
He chuckles. “They can be awkward as fuck. And half the time you’re just waiting for your turn with someone or wishing your turn with someone else was over. Often you don’t remember much of it the next day.”
“That sounds dreadful.”
“I much prefer this. It’s… meaningful. Shit, listen to me. You’ve turned me sentimental.”
“I don’t remember having a glyph applied for that type of magic.”
“Enchantress.” Vawn pulls me against him and kisses my cheek. “Fuck, I love kissing you when you’re smiling. Your cheeks get so round and rosy right here.” He kisses me again. “Soft and warm. Give me your mouth, beautiful.”
His lips seek mine, and I kiss him back, wishing I could press everything that I feel through the sensitive skin of our mouths and into his very soul.
“The next time I see you, we’ll be in…”
“I know.” His grip on me tightens.
“And we’ll either succeed, or…”
“I know.”
“It’s my fucking plan, and I believe in it, but I hate it.”
“Let’s make a deal, lovely,” Vawn murmurs into my hair. “If we make it through, we’ll repeat this night. The games, the blankets, the fire.”
“Maybe add some snacks,” I suggest. “I’m starving.”
“Snacks, of course. We’ll do this again, and on that night, I will ask you a question.”
When he says that, his heartbeat quickens. My ear is pressed to his chest, so I notice it. Is he excited or nervous? Or both?
What question is he planning to ask me?
Is it…
Of course not. The impossibility of that question is one of the reasons I tried not to fall for him.
“Syth?” He sounds a little breathless. Anxious, maybe, or just exhausted.
Before answering, I get up, stoke the fire, and add another log. Then I settle in at his side again and arrange a couple of the blankets over both of us.
“We’ll do it again,” I tell him. “A long night, blankets and sex, wine and dice. And then your question… if you still want to ask it.”
“Oh, I will.”
I smile at the resolve in his tone. “Maybe by then, I’ll be ready to answer.”