Chapter 16 #2
I open my eyes, and our gazes lock. A second of understanding.
Our bodies collide, his mouth claiming mine in a rush of heat, warmth spreading through my body.
We only break apart for the second it takes him to yank his shirt over his head, then he’s kissing me again, his hands unlacing my dress and lowering it quickly, then moving to the brassiere across my chest, unwrapping it with the desperation of someone who can’t wait even a second longer.
He lifts me and lays me down across his wide bed, his eyes dark and ravenous as he removes the rest of my undergarments, then devours me with his stare, stopping between my legs, igniting a new heat there. A new want.
His eyes then move to my breasts.“I adore these,” he murmurs, his voice a soft caress.
He takes one nipple between his lips, the soft feel of his tongue shooting straight to my core, and I arch into him with a gasp.
I don’t want any intrusive memories of the rider, the dragon, or the staff to interrupt us, so I push him and flip our positions.
Now he’s the one lying down, and I’m straddling him, feeling the thick ridge of his cock straining against his trousers.
I rock against him, grinding down until his hands fly to my waist, fingers digging in hard, then I move back and caress his perfectly sculpted stomach, golden under the candlelight, then lower my hands slowly.
He lets out a soft gasp as I unlace and remove his trousers, freeing his cock—already hard for me. I stroke it slowly, feeling its pulse throbbing against my fingertips, watching the way he closes his eyes, the way his lush lips part.
But his surrender lasts only a few seconds. Then his dangerous, dark eyes meet mine, and he flips me over, then pulls me to the edge of the bed, where he kisses my thighs, slowly making his way to my core.
The first feeling is… ticklish. And I laugh.
He taps my thighs softly. “Relax.”
Then his mouth is on me again and, this time, the laughter dissolves at once. His soft, warm tongue ignites a strange kind of fire, making me gasp, making me lose myself in the sensation of his varying strokes, some languid, some fast, spreading through my entire body with a delicious rush.
And then he stops, leaving an empty ache.
At first I don’t understand what’s happening, until I look at his face and catch a teasing smirk there.
“Remember what I wanted you to say?” he asks.
Is he really going to insist on that? “I forgot,” I lie.
“Hmm. That’s too bad.”
He lies down beside me, across the bed, his eyes on me as if in a challenge.
My core pulses with want, with need, but I also know how to tease. I glare at him, then answer his game with my own, swinging my leg back over him, straddling his hips, but keeping a provoking distance. Let’s see how he likes that.
Instead of complaining, he looks me in the eye and gives me that heart-stopping smile—and I give in.
Inch by inch, I lower myself down onto his delicious, hard cock, watching his jaw tighten as he enters me slowly, stretching me, filling me. When I settle in, he lets out a grunt of pleasure and a satisfied smirk, as his hardness presses against my inner walls.
The night sky has turned the windows into mirrors, and I stare at my own image encircled in fire as I ride his cock, my back arched, my breasts swaying with each slow roll of my hips, his fingers digging into my skin.
He then grips my hips and lifts me off of him, and before I can protest, he turns me over, one firm hand pressing between my shoulder blades until my palms find the sheets. He enters me from behind in one stroke. Hard. Then harder, and I let out a moan. And another.
On the window’s dark mirror, against the starry sky, I watch his perfect, muscular form moving back and forth, his strong hand gripping my hair, the sharp, strong lines of his body contrasting against my soft curves.
My body moves like someone I don’t recognize, hair loose and wild, skin flushed, the soft weight of my breasts swaying with each thrust, caressing the sheets. My face is a stranger’s face, with lips parted, eyes hooded, taken by pleasure, taken by the moment.
He then pulls my hair and raises my head, so that I face the window directly.
Our eyes lock through our dark reflection, and his soft lips caress my ear, sending a shiver through my body. “You like to watch, don’t you?”
“I…” He shoves hard and I whimper, part pain, part pleasure. “Do.”
His free hand slips around my hip and his fingers find my point of pleasure, pressing in time with his movement, the two sensations mingling and amplifying each other.
“And you like it hard, don’t you?” His voice sends thrills of pleasure through my skin.
“I… guess.” My words are barely comprehensible amidst my moans.
But then he removes his cock and hand at once, leaving only emptiness and need. “And what are you supposed to say?”
“I don’t remember,” I lie again.
“Well, that’s too bad.”
He keeps his cock just close enough that I can feel the heat of him against my inner thighs, so close, while his hand moves across my lower belly in a teasing, infuriating motion, making something inside me burn, making me ache for his touch.
I give in. “Is Your Highness going to fuck me or not?”
His chuckle moves through his chest and into my skin where we touch again and he enters me slowly. I exhale into the sheets, fingers curling at the fabric as he caresses me again.
The stars outside mingle with the tips of the candles. Stars everywhere, and all I am is my body and the sensation of where it meets with his.
In the dark mirror, I look like a wild animal being tamed, my hair pulled taut as if my head was a trophy he’ll hang on his wall. I feel like a wild animal—and I like it.
Slowly, the pressure mounts and my vision blurs, until there’s nothing but my body and his touch, a thrill shooting from his fingers, enveloping my skin until it crashes like a powerful wave. Then there’s no more body, no more touch, just the sensation.
He pulls out and I go slack against the mattress, my body tingling. On the window, I watch his cock glistening in the candlelight, thick and flushed, before he grips himself and spills his heat across my back, painting lines on my spine and the nape of my neck.
I’m marked, dripping, but he leaves the bed suddenly, his absence making the mattress cold and strange. I close my eyes, my head reeling in the feeling of what just happened.
After a moment, something warm and damp moves across my skin—a cloth, I realize, drawn in long, tender strokes. I look at the window and watch as he caresses my back, erasing the lines he drew just a few seconds ago.
He tosses the cloth, then lies down beside me, his eyes bright and yet mischievous.
“You think you’d forget that?” he asks.
I’m too breathless to talk, so I shake my head and smile, even if I think that star nectar is weird enough that it could make me forget it.
He kisses my lips briefly, and my eyes close, but I don’t want to relax too much, don’t want to fall asleep. Not here.
I’m not sure why I don’t want to stay long, until I realize something’s calling me, a powerful pull I cannot fight—don’t want to fight.
“I have to go,” I mutter.
His brows contract in a puzzled frown. “You have got to be kidding. Where?”
“The dragons.”
Alayel rolls his eyes, and an annoyed huff escapes his lips. “I think I’m really getting jealous.”
“No, you’re not.” I chuckle. “And they’re babies.”
His frown doesn’t change. “You’re not their mother. You know that, right?”
“I don’t want to leave them alone.”
He gets up at once. “Come, then, there’s a pitcher in the washroom, so you can refresh yourself.”
“I was going to the dorm.”
He shakes his head. “You won’t be allowed there at this time. Go straight down through the back stairs.”
I pick my pieces of clothing from the floor, then go to his imposing washroom, where I clean myself and get dressed.
When I come out, Alayel is also fully dressed, waiting for me.
“I’ll walk you down.” His tone’s neutral, and I’m not sure if he’s upset or not.
We descend the stairs in silence, as I mentally debate whether I should try to explain myself better or leave things as they are. Maybe I should stay in his bedroom, but there’s something pulling me to the little dragons. It could be nonsense, but I wouldn’t forgive myself if I left them alone.
Before I step through the door into the hallway, Alayel pulls me and gives me a brief kiss. “Can you come back tomorrow? Same time?”
I nod, and he kisses me again, then gives me his most dashing, heart-stopping smile, lifting a weight from my heart, untangling my chest. Then he turns away.
He’s not upset, and I wish I could kiss him a hundred times now, except that he’s gone. Well, I’ll get to kiss him tomorrow.
When I enter the hatchlings’ room, I soon find the little dragons, lying by the pile of hay—as if waiting for me. I’m so spent that I lie down and close my eyes, even as I feel Ava and Vos snuggling beside me.
Before sleep takes me, an image flashes behind my eyes: the staff.
Consumed in fire.
I sit up and gasp, suddenly scared, and the little dragons fidget.
“It’s nothing,” I whisper. “A silly dream.”
But of course it’s not silly. That staff means something, and I need to figure out what—and where it is. What if it’s indeed a magical weapon, ready to go off?
My chest squeezes.