Chapter 36 Evera #2
I swiveled my hips and hardened my tone to a command. “Then take more.”
His grip at my waist tightening, he thrust hard against me. With my skirts bunched and the length of him right where I needed it, separated only by the cotton of his pants, I shuddered and cried out.
“Someone will hear,” he panted, repeating my statement from the tower as he rutted against me once more.
Whimpering, I bit back my cry. “Let them listen.”
“Maerel will have my head if she returns to this,” he said against my lips. “Or is that what you want, love? For her to find us in the kitchens with my cock buried deep inside of you?” He nipped at my bottom lip. “Is that what you need to ease your jealousy?”
Too hazed by my lust, by the effect his words had on me to dispute him, I gripped tighter at his hair. “Yes, yes, that’s what I need.”
Breathing heavily, he worked quickly at the ties of his pants. I kissed and nipped at his neck, and when he shifted the cotton down, I grasped for him eagerly.
“Fuck,” he hissed, thrusting into my hand.
I whimpered, working him, imagining the thickness of him inside of me. Wanting him, yet at the same time reveling in this control, in the power I had over him. “Tell me what you want.”
Head hung, his hair brushed my neck. “You know very well what I want,” he growled, nipping my shoulder.
“Say it.” I quickened my strokes.
“I want …” His words came in ragged gasps. “I want to be inside of you, I want your warmth, your slickness.” Suppressing a moan, his body stiffened. “Evera, I need you now. I can’t—”
The control was too intoxicating. To see him like this, to feel his raw desperation, to know how close he was to the brink. This powerful, gorgeous man, was practically trembling before me.
“No.” Stilling my hand, I gripped him with a firmness that made him hiss and his body quiver.
He drew back enough to meet my eyes, a feral glow there.
Reveling in the rush, emboldened, I released his cock and brought both of my hands to his hair.
“I want kisses,” I coaxed, implication thick in my tone.
He rolled his lip, eyes sharpening. Without hesitation, he unhooked my legs from his hips and lowered to his knees. When I quivered, he stilled me with a firm grip at one of my thighs.
His rough hold twisted a nervous excitement through me, and sent little shocks of pleasure to my apex.
He trailed his fingers along my inner thigh, nipping and kissing at the sensitive skin there as he worked up my leg.
Teasing, stimulating wetness from my center, building my need.
I shut my eyes and my head fell back as I gave in to the sensations.
“Your dagger,” Neirin said on a pant.
“What?” His statement tugged at my haze, and I whimpered, coaxing him with my fingers in his hair, but he was set on his distraction. His thumb traced the spot my scabbard had been before I removed it.
“I don’t want to talk about it now.”
Neirin remained unmoving, seriousness in his tone. “You will tell me later?’
“Yes, fine,” I acquiesced, fully aware that I was now the one begging, now the one under his control. “Later.”
Seemingly content with this, Neirin further bunched my skirts to my lap, and the breeze from the window chilled my center, bare and vulnerable. He restrained my left leg with his arm and trailed his thumb through my wetness, and I shuddered at his touch.
I raised my head to find him between my legs, his silver eyes intent on me as if he’d been waiting to steal my gaze, hold it forever.
The tousle of his hair begged me to run my fingers through it again.
Smudges of ash streaked his brows and at the side of his temple.
His lips, swollen from our kissing, brushed against my leg, and he applied gentle pressure at my apex with his thumb. His heavy breaths warmed my center.
“Tell me what you want,” he rumbled, turning my own game on me.
Damn him.
“I want your mouth on me,” I pleaded. “I want to feel your kisses.”
With his eyes locked on mine, he slid a finger into my depths, and I gasped, letting my head fall back again in the sheer ecstasy of the moment.
In the next breath, his mouth was on me, and I all but lost myself. It started as a kiss, teasing, then his tongue parted me, and I cried out.
“You’re so wet,” he breathed against my center, and I hooked my right leg over his shoulder and ran my fingers through his hair, needing more.
“You like that, love?” he rasped, restraining me with his grip on my left thigh when I tried to grind against his face. “Do you like these kisses?”
“Yes,” I whimpered, the word a plea. I rocked my hips, but he held me still, sliding his finger in and out of me as he breathed hot air against my sensitive skin.
Growling his satisfaction, his tongue lashed out again, and the coiling tightness within me began to build.
“That’s my good girl,” he said, his words nearly a purr as he left me briefly to nip at the inside of my legs.
Each graze of his teeth shot a deepening need through me, a more vivid awareness of the lack of his mouth on me.
I needed to be filled by more than just his finger moving slowly in and out, curling in just the right way.
“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to taste you?” he crooned.
Gasping, I fought to form words, but I could barely breathe. The climbing rush was building too quickly; I wanted more, needed more. As if he knew, Neirin thrust a second finger inside, and I bucked against his hand.
“You’re close already, aren’t you?” he growled, his fingers pumping. “The way you tighten down on me.” He moaned.
Unable to do anything but gasp, I clutched at his hair, uncaring of the soot that darkened my fingers.
When he nipped gently at the swollen bud of my pleasure and sucked it into his mouth, pounding me with his fingers, I unraveled.
Shuddering, rocking against him, I came.
Hard. The orgasm undid my entire body, shooting jolts of pleasure through my veins.
And when it finally settled, he licked my wetness once more.
I trembled, looking down at him, and he rested his cheek against my leg. With the edge of lust waning and my breath slowing, a flush of heat warmed my cheeks.
He scoffed. “Now you are shy?”
Sucking in my lips, I shook my head, denying the truth.
When he rose to his feet, the firmness of him was still apparent. Neirin caught the focus of my attention and lifted my chin.
“Do not worry over me,” he said, abandoning his hold on me and adjusting himself, retying his trousers. “Pleasuring you is the greatest satisfaction you can give me.”
“I very seriously doubt that,” I retorted.
“There is your boldness.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
And though his chest still rose and fell heavily, betraying his restraint, his voice was soft.
“Tell me, love …” He caught my lip with his thumb, his focus lingering there a moment before he raised his eyes to mine.
“Have I succeeded in replacing your memories of this room with yet a more favorable one?”
“You have,” I said on a breath, and through our bond I sensed a different sort of emotion.
One I couldn’t quite place. A calming warmth radiated through our connection.
Like sitting by a crackling hearth in the fall.
I smiled at the notion and inhaled deeply, the scents of cinnamon and vanilla in the air reminding me of brisk fall mornings and spiced tea.
Whether it had been Neirin’s intention to leave me with this sense of contentment, I could not say. But the way he leaned in to gentle affection after pleasuring me instead of acting upon his own need, as pressing as I knew it to be, made me suspect it may have been.
I raised my hand and brushed my fingers through the strands of hair that hung over his brows, moving them to the side.
Streaks of soot stained his forehead, a reminder of the fragility of our situation.
There would be danger in what lay ahead, but I pushed such fears aside to linger in the faith and promise of this simple moment; in laughter, passion, and the closeness of two hearts bound to each other.