Chapter 5 #4
As she lowered herself to her knees, she briefly regretted not suggesting the room—and a rug—but he would love this.
It would make him want to stay. With one hand around him and the other sliding higher, nails scraping over his taut abdomen, she took him into her mouth.
He groaned again, need and desire mingled in his voice, her name in the mix.
Hearing it with such need pleased her as much as it aroused her. He’d helped her in the mine, in the storm god’s laboratory, and in the sea battle against his own people. Every time she’d needed him, he’d come to help her, and she wanted nothing more than to reward him.
Her spectacles bumped against him, and she removed them, impatient. She made herself set them carefully against the brick wall, though she wanted to fling them aside, to hurry to remove any obstacles between them.
Then, sucking, licking, and stroking, she took him in and out, matching him as his thrusts grew faster, fuller of need. She would take him like this every night if he would stay with her, if they could be together forever.
If only she could command him to stay. She was the queen. Why couldn’t she give that order?
But he wasn’t her subject—he was a wild dragon rider from the enemy people. All she could do was give him this.
Muscles taut, Vorik threw his head back as he drew closer and closer to his climax.
Even though he’d stopped touching her, his arousal excited her.
She’d meant to take him like this, take all of him, but he lowered his hands to her head to start rubbing and kneading her scalp, and her own lust flared even greater.
She scooted closer as her core tightened, heating with need, and she panted around his shaft.
She lowered a hand, slipping her underwear down and touching herself as he’d started to touch her earlier, wanting to come even as he did.
Her plan had been simply to pleasure him, to make him want to stay, but she longed to have him within her. She wanted—
Vorik looked down at her, their eyes meeting, and she was almost embarrassed to have been caught touching herself as she stroked and sucked him, but his eyes flared with lust and… was that satisfaction? Maybe he wanted his body to arouse her, even as hers aroused him.
He shifted back and lifted her to her feet, almost fierce as he backed her into the wall again and moved her hand away from herself. His soon replaced it, strong calloused fingers pushing down her underwear, then sliding into her.
Such pleasure swept through her that she moaned and arched into him, gripping his shoulders.
“We’ll both come,” Vorik whispered, his steamy gaze holding hers. “Every time.”
He kissed her hard as his hand slid into her, rubbing her swollen center, each brush exquisite. She grasped his shoulder, feeling the need to hold on, but she found his cock again too.
“I need you,” she rasped, gripping his thick length, drawing him toward her.
“Good.” He stroked her, making sure she was ready, but she was always ready for him, and she pushed toward him, wanting him so badly. “Good,” he added in a satisfied growl, his fingers shifting away, making room for his shaft as he lifted her against the wall.
So eager it was almost painful, Syla bucked into him, meeting his first thrust. They both growled, or maybe she cried out.
She was so overcome with need and desire and pleasure as they came together that she was barely aware of her actions, her thoughts, their surroundings.
She wrapped her legs around him, pushing off the wall so she could take him deeper and deeper, relishing how he filled her, the friction wondrous as they came together again and again.
She wanted this—him—every night. Somehow, someway, they had to find a way to be together. For more than a couple of days. She wanted him to be hers always, just as she wanted to be his. They belonged together.
“Yes!” Vorik cried, as if he were thinking the same thing.
Then they came together, their ecstasy matched perfectly as they exploded into each other. A growl that had turned into a cry might have become a howl. Before him, Syla had known nothing like this, and she couldn’t lose him.
As he poured himself into her and waves of satiating pleasure washed over her, she clung to his shoulders, her legs still wrapped around him, and she buried her face in his neck.
He cupped the back of her head, the gentleness in contrast to his fiery thrusts from moments before, and he pulled her from the wall, holding her in his arms. Gentle. Beautiful. Perfect.
“I need you,” she repeated her earlier words, emotion thickening her throat, then added, “to stay.”
Vorik didn’t answer, other than to kiss the side of her face and stroke her head. And she knew he couldn’t answer, couldn’t promise that he wouldn’t leave. But she also knew he’d enjoyed this, and she hoped that it—that she—would be enough.
“You said there was a room?” Vorik murmured after a time, the first droplets of rain falling.
Syla laughed. “Yes. Should we visit it?”
“You might enjoy a bed more than a wall.”
“A brick wall.”
“I was thinking earlier about suggesting the room.” Vorik smoothed her dress, then fastened his trousers, and picked up her underwear and spectacles and handed them to her. “But then you grabbed my penis and all thoughts spilled out of my brain.”
“You did seem to find it stimulating.”
“I find you stimulating.” Vorik caught her by the hips and kissed her, then surprised her by sweeping her into his arms. “Let’s find that room, shall we?”
“Do you want to be stimulated again tonight?”
“Oh, yes.”