Chapter 8 Evera
EVERA
The length of his cock was impressive, and with my hand wrapped around its girth, my fingers barely touched. As far as bad decisions went, I was pleased with mine.
As I moved my hand along his length, the skin velvet in my grasp, a fleeting moment of hesitation struck me.
Aureus’s disappointed scowl flitted before my eyes.
Finding a rush in a stranger’s touch was, possibly, not the healthiest coping mechanism, but it wasn’t as if I was a virgin.
This wouldn’t change anything. It was just an escape.
A chance to enjoy the frivolousness found in the dark, taken in obscurity.
Neirin moaned at my touch, drawing me from my thoughts, and I ridiculed myself for my moment of uncertainty.
The man was delicious. The consort of a Queen.
And she’d seen me with him, nodded her blessing.
I would enjoy this man, would revel in knowing that a man who lay with royalty desired me, ached for me.
Swearing off thoughts of the future, of what was right or wrong, and of my brother’s condemnations, I put them to the side—far to the side.
I returned to the present and quickened my strokes.
Neirin hung his head, and the rough stubble along his jaw brushed my temple. His breathing hitched, and he suppressed a moan as he rocked his hips against me.
“If you don’t slow down—” His warning ended with a guttural rasp, and he wrapped his hand over mine, stilling my motions.
Beneath our grip, his cock throbbed. And fuck, there was something primal and raw about that.
It sent an ache straight to my center. I raised my eyes to his, and a whimper caught in my throat.
His face was perfection, chiseled and rugged.
High cheekbones complemented the oval shape and stern lines of his jaw—harsh, almost, as if set by a life spent in focused determination.
The slight part of his lips as he exhaled and held my gaze was seductive and tantalizing.
Then there were his eyes, set beneath drawn brows.
They were a soft gray, deep and thoughtful.
In the dark of the room, they reminded me of the twin moons that watched over the courtyard.
When he brushed his nose along my cheek, his silver hair fell between us. Portions of it were braided, others left loose in a manner I assumed was meant to keep it out of his face when fighting. The length of it came past his shoulders.
Without breaking my gaze, Neirin rumbled against my neck. He worked his length in our shared grasp with languid movements. “Slow,” he instructed against my ear.
He withdrew his hand and returned it to the wall just above my head.
There was a possessiveness in the way he pinned me between his body and the cold stone.
Strength emanated from him, yet he made no move to take me.
He was letting me explore him, giving me control.
The way he let me touch him, let me bring him pleasure, only made me want him more.
It made me feel powerful.
I stroked up the base of his length, and a bead of liquid formed at its tip. I ran a finger over it, and he shuddered.
“Tease,” he reprimanded, voice husky.
Releasing him, I tilted my head against the stone, baring my neck. The change in position arched my back and pushed my breasts out, and when he lowered his gaze, hunger flared in his eyes. His lips parted, and his exhale fogged between us, prickling my skin.
A low sound came from him as he cupped one of my breasts in his palm. The touch sent shocks of pleasure through my body, and when his fingers found my nipple beneath the fabric of my dress, I inhaled sharply. Neirin groaned his pleasure and made small circles with his thumb.
Roughly, he pulled down the top of my dress, and I rocked against him, urged on by the momentary lapse in his restraint. My nipples hardened to firm buds in the chill of the air, and when Neirin dipped his head to take one in his mouth, warmth pooled between my legs.
I arched further into him, needing this, needing him, and he rewarded me with a flick of his tongue.
All my awareness focused on that one hardened point, wet and puckered by the cold as he returned his thumb to it and circled, moving the warmth of his lips to the other side where he kissed first, then sucked with a fevered need. The sensation was too much.
“Neirin, I—”
His lips stole my words, the kiss deep and full of desire. He pushed his body against mine, pressing a thigh between my legs. I rocked against it, losing myself to the need, taking what friction he would give me.
His touch left my breast, and he grasped my hand, drawing it up and pinning it above my head. His grip on me was firm but not painful. Possessive, claiming.
A soft moan escaped me, and he sucked my bottom lip into his mouth.
When he released my lip, I raised my chin, and he trailed frenzied kisses along my jawline to my neck.
He spread his fingers, and I mimicked his motion, my hand trapped between his and the wall.
He rubbed his thigh against my center, his cock firm against my belly.
“I need you,” I gasped, grinding shamelessly against him.
Neirin stilled, his lips at my neck. When I whimpered and circled my hips, he raked his teeth across my fevered skin and bit.
I gulped in a breath. Licking the tender spot to soothe the initial sting, he pinned me firmly to the wall with his body, stilling my movements. Where the sharpness of his bite lingered, tingles of pleasure shot out, sending tendrils of need through me. He found my pulse and sucked.
“Please.” My skin was on fire. I needed him now.
Pulling back, he met my eyes. He was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling beneath his dark cloth shirt. Damn the thing. I longed to see his body, to explore him with more than hastened touches beneath his clothing.
Whimpering with impatience, I squirmed, but he held me firm . t My mouth found his again, demanding, teeth grazing his lips in a sharp nip. Neirin’s low growl rumbled between us, edged with frustration, and his jaw tightened as his eyes locked on mine.“I’ve never finished inside a woman before.”
“You don’t have to finish inside me,” I said, though that seemed obvious.
“I want to.” His tone was firm as he held my gaze, and when he spoke again, sorrow laced his voice. “I have no name to give.”
Oh. Neirin’s admission cut through the haze. I let out a breath, empathizing. I was a bastard too, though the weight of the title lay heavier on men than it did on women. Without a name, a man held less value for marriage.
But Neirin’s thoughts weren’t on marriage. He didn’t want to risk putting a child on me. It was something most men didn’t consider, and there was a vulnerability in his admission. One which hinted at a depth beyond my understanding.
“I know how to make the tea,” I told him, my tone sober. The bitter drink prevented a man’s seed from taking root. It was a simple brew, one we dispersed discreetly in our shop regularly.
Neirin held my gaze as if weighing the truth of my words.
Or perhaps weighing the risk that I would fulfill them.
It struck me then that he was sweet, in a brooding sort of way.
Quickly, I pushed away the bud of warmth that was taking root in my chest. I wasn’t looking for sweet.
Ruairc was sweet. I wanted fevered kisses and rough sex with a handsome stranger that spent far too much coin on liquor and drew desire from me more profoundly than any man I’d lain with before.
The searching look in his eyes softened, and he nodded faintly.
When he brought his lips back to mine, his kiss was gentle.
The play of his tongue around mine was slow and thick, with a depth that sent a tingling of worry to my skin.
This was only a tryst, a release of tension, and a shared rush in the shadows.
I broke his kiss and put an edge of sharpness in my voice. “Rougher,” I commanded.
Neirin’s chest vibrated with soft amusement. “Is that what you want?”
I clutched at a strap on his jacket, trembling. “Yes.”
Unwrapping my fingers, he adjusted his hold and pinned both above my head in one large hand, leaving my body fully under his control.
With his free hand, he bunched my skirts, and my body trembled.
I was ready for him. Gods, I was so ready.
He nuzzled into the crook of my neck, and I tilted my head, giving him access.
He nipped, distracting me as his hand trailed up the inside of my thigh.
When his fingers found my center and teased at my opening, I arched off the wall.
“If you don’t want me to be gentle with you,” he spoke against my jaw, “then I have to make you ready.” He brought his lips to my ear, his breath hot. “Because when I enter you, you’re going to take all of me.”
The breath I sucked in was ragged, broken, and though it filled my lungs, it gave me no relief. For there would be no relief until …
With tantalizing slowness, Neirin slid one finger inside of me. The sound that escaped me was something between a gasp and a moan, and my body quivered. My muscles tightened. He withdrew, then slowly, so fucking slowly, he slid a second finger in.
I rocked against his hand, needing more, but he used the firmness of his body to restrain my movements, holding me to the wall.
I relented and closed my eyes. When I did, I understood why he wanted me to still.
Gods, the man knew what he was doing. He curled his fingers as he pumped, and the spot he struck was one I’d never even found myself before.
It built the tension quickly, and just as I neared the edge, as my legs quivered and threatened to go out on me, Neirin withdrew his fingers, breaking the build.
“Damn you,” I cursed with a hiss as he denied me my release.