Chapter 42
Lilias
YES
Zarek turns toward me, the half-light playing off his lips as he smiles.
“Fuck, Princess,” he says. “Sometimes you get tired of waiting, you know?”
He sounds out of breath, like he’s been running. I shift on the bed, which suddenly seems too hot and too hard. I feel like I’ve been wound too tightly, like we’ve been kissing for hours.
I didn’t know what he was doing, not at first. Sure, I’d heard jokes about that kind of thing, but I didn’t think it was something men actually did. Not if there was a woman right there, on the bed, in the same room. A woman who would even be willing, if he would just ask.
I sniff. Zarek comes closer, still smiling. The light catches on the strange metal tube around his neck. He reaches for something, and my body pulls tight, expecting his touch—
He pulls his jacket off the chair beside the bed. Of course. My shoulders drop, but what was I expecting? Why would he kiss me here, when there’s no audience?
“I apologize,” he says. “That was rude of me. It won’t happen again.”
I sniff again. “I thought there was no such thing as getting pushed past the stopping point.”
Zarek turns back to me, only this time, his smile is gone.
“There is no such thing as getting pushed past the stopping point,” he snarls. “And the man who told you otherwise was a piece of dog shit who just wanted to jam his cock between your legs.”
He walks to the window, then runs his hand through his hair.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I just— I mean, don’t you ever put your hand between your legs, close your eyes, and think about some handsome knight?”
“I— I don’t,” I admit.
It’s not a very dignified response, and on its heels comes the horrible realization that, if I put my hand between my legs and thought of anyone, it would be the man standing in front of me with the morning light catching in his dark hair.
Zarek tilts his head as he stares at me. “You don’t?”
Oh, gods, that stare. I feel like I’ve got a live coal between my legs, and I have no idea how to put it out. My mind whispers something about putting my hand down there, but I shove the idea away.
I clear my throat and try to sit up in bed like a dignified princess. Zarek walks closer.
“You really don’t, do you?” he asks.
He’s standing so close he could reach out and touch the place he’s talking about. I shift again, trying to do something about the ache between my legs.
“N-No,” I stammer.
He sighs like I’ve personally disappointed him. “What in the nine hells did he do with you?” he mutters.
“Who?”
“Your lover,” Zarek replies. “Did he just pleasure himself and leave?”
I stare at him as the silence between us stretches thin.
“Do you actually want me to answer that?” I finally ask.
Zarek shakes his head, but he doesn’t step away. He’s frowning at me like I’m a decision he’s trying to make. The rising sun catches in his eyes and makes the metal cylinder around his neck gleam.
“Princess,” he whispers. “Would you like me to touch you?”
My breath catches. I feel like he’s lit a fire beneath my skin, and suddenly, I’m imagining his hand between my legs, doing the gods only know what as he makes those little gasping noises he just made by the window when he didn’t know I was watching him.
He steps back, then turns away.
“I’m sorry,” he stammers. “I forgot myself.”
“Yes,” I blurt.
He turns back to me. There’s something in his eyes I haven’t seen before, an open sort of hunger that almost looks like fear. For the first time, I realize that something I say or do might actually hurt this man, the legendary snake of Vsenrog.
“Touch me,” I whisper. “Please.”
I let go of the blanket covering my chest. It drops to my hips, and the air in the room feels suddenly cool against my arms and my thin cotton top. My nipples are tight, and they rub against the soft cotton in a way that makes me feel too hot and too cold at the same time.
Zarek makes a sound, almost a sort of groan.
It’s so much like the noises he made in the dark, when he didn’t know I was watching him, that it makes my breath catch.
He leans closer. My entire body pulls tight, trembling like a bowstring.
I shift on the mattress, parting my legs, remembering the massive bulge I saw on our wedding night, the hard, hot length that pressed against my thigh in the carriage.
It’s going to hurt. It always hurt a little with Blayne, and his cock wasn’t nearly so terrifying. But it felt good too, pleasure and pain wrapped together, and gods, I didn’t realize just how much I’ve missed that.
Zarek leans over me. I push the covers to the side and close my eyes, expecting him to part my legs before he pulls his pants down.
Instead, I feel his breath on my neck. His hair traces a path across my shoulder as he kisses the soft skin of my jaw, and then my neck, and then my collarbone.
“Gods,” he mutters. “You are exquisite.”
I’m gasping like I’ve just run a race. My skin is burning where he kissed me, burning where I want him to touch me. Burning everywhere.
When he does touch me, he starts with my neck.
His fingers trace a line down my skin, mirroring his lips, and my pulse flutters in response.
Gently and slowly, he lifts my undershirt over my head.
His hand drops to the cleft of my breasts, and when his thumb runs over my nipple, I make a sound that’s so raw and needy, I can’t believe it came out of my mouth.
And then he puts his lips on my breast, and I cry out.
It’s like a burn, like the sudden shock of a fall, the burst of pleasure that races through me as his mouth closes around my nipple.
I fall back on the pillow. My hips dig into the mattress, rocking in a way I can’t begin to understand, and I don’t know exactly what I want, but gods, I know I’m going to die without it.
His tongue circles my nipple, and pleasure burns through me, bright and hot.
His hand traces a path up the inside of my thigh, to the place where my legs meet, the place that’s so hot and wet it’s embarrassing.
His fingers stop at the hem of my shorts.
I make another sound, a wordless sort of plea, and his hand slips under the fabric.
My eyes close as his fingers trace the secret parts of my body.
My hips tremble as they rock against his hand, begging for something, for more.
I realize with a numb sense of shock that I want him, all of him.
I want what I felt through my dress, what I saw hidden beneath his tight black pants.
I want him inside of me, I want the burn and the pressure, I want to feel all of him with all of me.
His fingers trace the hot cleft of my sex while I gasp and writhe, ready to beg if only I could find the words.
And then he touches something else, something at the head of my sex, and the world bursts.
For a heartbeat, I think I might actually be dying. I’ve never felt anything like this, never dreamed I could feel anything like this. I can’t talk, I can’t move—
There’s banging on the door. Zarek’s hand stops. I try to breathe as my body trembles beneath him.
“Wake the fuck up, snake,” a voice growls from the other side of the door.
“I’m awake,” Zarek replies.
The voice grunts. “We’re moving out.”
Zarek’s hand lifts. No! Gods, no! I grab his wrist and press his hand between my legs.
“D-Don’t stop,” I whisper.
Zarek gives me the most wicked smile I’ve ever seen, and some part of me knows I’ll see that smile in my dreams. And every time I bring my hand between my legs and try to replicate what he’s doing now.
“Just a minute,” Zarek replies, as his fingers drive into me.
I collapse on the bed, my entire body trembling beneath his hand. Zarek leans down, pressing his lips to my ear.
“Quiet, Princess,” he whispers.
I’m gasping. I’m shaking. I never dreamt anything could feel like this, and my gods, if he ever stops, I’m going to burn the world down. I close my eyes as the room spins, dimly aware of the voices on the other side of the door, of the way Zarek’s breath catches in my ear.
“Don’t stop,” I gasp. “Don’t— Gods, don’t—”
There’s another loud bang on the door. My hips rock against the bed, rising to meet Zarek’s hand, the place where his fingers are making my entire body burn.
“I said,” Zarek calls, as he makes my body dance, “just a minute!”
“No,” I whimper. “No, don’t stop, no—”
He can’t stop, can’t ever stop. This feels too good, it’s too much. I’m burning, I’m drowning, I’m going to—
“Godsdamn it,” the voice on the other side of the door growls. “We gotta move.”
The door rattles.
And I explode.
Zarek presses his lips to mine, swallowing the sounds I make as my body comes undone.
For the second time this morning, I think I’m dying.
Zarek kisses me as I slowly come back to the world.
The mattress under my back. The warmth of Zarek’s body next to mine.
The first pale light of the rising sun streaks the wooden beams above the bed.
The mattress shifts as Zarek rolls out of bed, and I’m dimly aware of him pulling the covers over my body. I watch in a numb sort of haze as he walks to the door. There’s a click as he undoes the lock.
“It’s about fucking time,” the voice on the other side of the door grumbles.
Zarek slips through the door, then closes it behind him. I hear the click of the lock again.
My body sinks into the soft mattress as the room slowly fills with light. Rain brushes the window in little bursts, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt as good as I feel right now. So that’s what all the songs are talking about, I realize as I close my eyes.
That’s what I’ve been missing.