CHAPTER 32
THE A’KORI PALACE
Present Day
“Are you done pretending to sleep?” Xeyvian chuckles, and I curse myself for the twitch at the edges of my lips as I suppress a smile.
I don’t want to wake. I think I might like to just lay here forever.
The fire is still warm against my back, his chest solid and comforting beneath my cheek.
My head rises and falls in time with every deep breath he takes.
I blink my eyes open. It’s still early, the sun just cresting the horizon with the fresh light of dawn.
The sheet he draped over us sometime in the night is now haphazardly woven through my legs, covering little more than my backside.
I tilt my chin up until I can see the way his eyes roam over my curves appreciatively, my own eyes exploring the lines of a new bargain brandished on his skin.
He smiles when he catches me looking at it, and the curve of his lips sends my stomach fluttering.
The things the male can do to me with a simple smile.
“You are staying in A’kori with me.” He isn’t asking, but it isn’t exactly a command. “Say it.” Now, that is a command, and I chastise myself for the way it makes me squeeze my thighs together.
I break from his gaze, taking in a lungful of his scent as I nuzzle into him, nipping at the rise of flesh on his chest. He inhales sharply, tensing beneath me as he winds my hair into his fist, and I smile up at him.
“I think I’d like a shower before we have this discussion.” My smile turns mischievous.
His jaw is tense when he releases me and I brace myself over him, one arm on either side of his torso. I might be enjoying this all too much when I ask, “Join me?”
That’s all it takes to set his eyes ablaze. I watch as every thought is stripped from his mind, replaced with only the desire I impart through my gaze.
Rising from the thick fur, I take his hand and lead him toward the washroom.
My eyes snag on our reflection as we pass by the tall mirrors lining the washroom walls.
Though the feyn were more accepting of my looks than the beauties I’d been raised with, the stark contrast of the male’s beauty and my own feels more evident than ever.
Maybe it’s the dip in my brow, maybe the falter of my step, but he rounds on me, pinching my chin between his fingers. He looks down at me with a reassuring smile when he says, “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on, mi’ajna. Never doubt it.”
I can’t help but return his smile, even if my own is forced.
I’m sure the male who’s lived hundreds of years has seen his share of women far lovelier than I.
He sweeps my legs out from under me, chuckling at the surprised squeak that vacates my lungs.
He looks altogether too proud at the noise he’s garnered from me.
When my feet smack against the floor under the overhead spigot, I dart out from under it before he can summon the water and drench my hair.
He turns the lever and steam curls in the air. He pours an oil into a small, hollow tube protruding from the wall and it sputters a hazy mist, making the room smell of crushed mint. Clearly, I could spend an entire mortal lifetime exploring the intricacies of the palace and still be in awe.
He’s too quick when he grips my arm and pulls me under the water. My protests lost in the stream overhead as it soaks my thick spirals. It’s clear he knew exactly what he was doing when I see the playful look in his eyes.
Who is this male? Where is the brooding general I’ve come to know?
Xeyvian lathers his hands with a thick cake of soap before spreading it across the planes of my body.
His hands sweep across my back before his fingers drag out the tension locked in the muscles of my arms. The press of his fingers against my backside before they make their way down to my thighs and calves is intoxicating.
He takes a knee in front of me, lifting my legs, one after the other, massaging the tight muscles he finds there before washing the soles of my feet.
Only when he’s thoroughly scoured and caressed every inch and aching muscle of mine does he take the soap to his own body.
My hand shoots out, grasping his wrist to still his arm as I pry the sudsy cake from his fingers.
I see the moment he realizes my intent, and I’m not sure why he shifts his weight apprehensively.
It dawns on me all too quickly, and I suppress a small swell of shame. While he has been clear about his intentions and eager to see to my desires, this is the first time I am offering him any form of pleasure that is entirely selfless.
His body might as well be made of stone for all the good I do when I try to work the knots and lifetimes of tension from his shoulders. Nevertheless, he shuts his eyes and leans his head back with a groan when I slowly work my way down his spine.
I debate skipping over the muscular globes of his backside.
And decide that perhaps this act isn’t entirely selfless after all, when I begin to knead his firm ass, eyeing it appreciatively.
My hands grace every line of the male’s form before I fall to my knees, intent on washing his feet as he had mine.
Kneeling before him, my eyes catch on the rivulets streaming between the lines of his abdomen.
I follow that trail down, fixated on the movement of the water until I’m gazing wantonly at his hard length.
Conversations with Riah play in my mind, of how she captured the rapture of her own male on her tongue.
I look up at him, a muscle bouncing at the edge of his jaw as he stares down at me. His chest begins to rise and fall rapidly as I lean in, swiping my tongue across the salty bead at his tip.
“Foc,” he sighs, my stomach dipping when he threads his fingers through my hair.
I run my tongue from his tip to his base then back again, delighted by the male’s groans.
I test my mouth around his girth, stretching my jaw in a way I’ve only done when overcome with a deep yawn.
I begin to wonder what I’ve gotten myself into.
Seeing the trepidation in my eyes, he cups my jaw tenderly, adjusting the angle, showing me how to take him in.
Breathing becomes easier, and I feel a heady rush as he slides his length deep into the back of my throat.
I observe him closely as I draw him from between my lips and back again.
I note every twinging muscle, listen to every deep sigh, commit to memory each twist and purse of my mouth that makes the male’s pulse quicken.
His hands tighten in my hair as I milk a deep rumbling moan from his throat.
My name is a whispered prayer on his lips when his hips buck, thrusting him deep.
I feel his passion rise as he tugs back, attempting to draw himself out of my mouth.
But Riah had been thorough in her description of how I could ensure his most exquisite release.
So, I tighten my grip on his hips and pull him into the back of my throat as he tremors, spilling himself deep inside.
The taste of his ecstasy slicks my tongue as he withdraws from me.
The flavor of his passion, not at all unpleasant, is well worth the fire that burns in his eyes when he draws me to my feet.
He wipes the last remnant of his desire from my bottom lip with a slow swipe of his calloused thumb.
Fascination, reverence, awe, all of these swirl in the storm of his eyes as he gazes at me from under the steaming water.
One step forward and he’s captured my mouth, his tongue delving greedily after the proof of my efforts. His nose brushes mine affectionately when our lips part. With one hand he pulls the lever, halting the steady stream from the ceiling, and grasps a thick towel with the other.
I know what comes next, and I don’t want to lie to him when he asks me again.
I can’t stay. I would. Gladly, I would, if I were a different woman, but I’m not.
And I was born to earn this male’s hatred.
Maybe it makes me a coward, but I don’t think I can stomach seeing it in his eyes.
I’m not sure I’d survive witnessing the moment he discovers what I truly am.
A low rumble in his chest pulls me back into the present, and I glance at him briefly, before my eyes dart away from the intensity of his gaze. I’ve let something slip, standing across from him, lost in my thoughts. I’m not sure what he’s just witnessed but it’s clear he doesn’t care for it.
He wraps the towel around my shoulders and pulls me a step closer.
I close my eyes when his lips land on my temple, willing myself to memorize the feel of them.
They capture the lobe of my ear, and I sigh contentedly, leaning into his body.
He lingers on the spot, biting gently and soothing the sting before moving down my neck with slow, agonizing strokes of his tongue.
Each time he ushers a sigh from my lips or a small gasp, he stays, exploring the area until he’s sure he has my pleasure perfected.
An echo of his promised intentions resounds in my mind. I want to know that … where you like to be kissed. How you like to be touched.
The male is diligently working every inch of my body to be sure he discovers exactly that.
I’m not entirely dry when he drops the towel to the floor and palms my backside, hoisting me to straddle his waist. His eyes don’t break from mine as he walks us to the bed. Emotions I don’t recognize, things I’ve never known are silently exchanged between us.