CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR #3
The sensation was unlike anything I'd ever experienced, as no one had ever done this to me before.
It was electric and consuming, sending shockwaves of pleasure radiating through every nerve ending in my body.
My hips began moving of their own accord, seeking more contact, more pressure, driven by an instinct as old as time itself.
My hand found her hair without conscious thought, fingers tangling in the silky strands as I fought to anchor myself against the overwhelming sensations threatening to drown me completely.
She pulled away and smiled up at me. “Power here shifts like sand. If we’re to change the story, we must do it together—quietly, carefully.” She brought her index finger to my quim once more and began tracing my opening.
“But be warned. Some of the knights are watching you closely. Not just with their eyes—but with their other senses. Not all truths can be hidden by glamour.”
Gods, it was murder trying to focus on anything but the feelings she was creating within me. But I fought hard to do so. "Why help me?"
She pushed the tip of her finger inside me again, and I couldn't help but drop my head back as my heart started pounding in earnest.
"Perhaps I'm tired of being the only woman in Camelot playing the long game," she murmured against my heated flesh, her breath sending shivers through me.
The vibration of her words against my most sensitive skin made my knees threaten to buckle.
"For years, I've watched from the shadows, manipulating threads others couldn't even see, always alone in my machinations. "
She leaned in then, her mouth finding my engorged nub, and I felt her finger push deeper inside me, stretching and filling me.
The dual sensation was overwhelming—her tongue working magic against my aching center while her finger moved with practiced skill, each thrust sending lightning through my veins.
My hips arched forward involuntarily, seeking more contact, more pressure, more of whatever spell she was weaving over me.
"Or maybe," she continued, pulling back just enough to speak while never ceasing the rhythm of her finger, "I recognize someone else caught between Arthur and Merlin—another pawn who's finally realizing she might have the power to become a player instead."
Her words hung heavy with meaning, carrying implications that should have alarmed me, should have made me question her motives and pull away from this dangerous intimacy.
But I could barely process the weight of what she was saying through the thick, drugging haze of pleasure that consumed my every rational thought.
The admission that she knew exactly who I was, that she'd been watching and waiting, should have terrified me—yet all I could focus on was the exquisite torture of her touch.
She brought her attention back to my quim then, as if sensing my inability to think clearly, and her mouth returned to worshiping me with something that felt like reverence.
Her lips sealed around my swollen nub while her finger continued its relentless exploration.
She added a second finger, stretching me further, the slight burn only heightening the overwhelming sensations coursing through my body.
The rhythm she set was maddening—alternating between gentle, teasing strokes and firm, demanding pressure that had me gasping for air.
Her tongue worked in perfect counterpoint to her fingers, circling and flicking against my most sensitive flesh.
Each movement was calculated to drive me closer to the edge of madness, closer to complete surrender.
"Let me do for you what Arthur did not."
She began stroking my nub with her other hand while her fingers continued to slide in and out of me.
“Women like us survive by helping each other—silently, without credit. Remember that when both Merlin and Arthur demand your loyalty.”
It was all I could do to remain standing as the sensations built to an almost unbearable crescendo.
My legs trembled beneath me, threatening to give way as she pushed me toward the precipice.
Then it hit me—an intense wave of pleasure so powerful it threatened to shatter me completely.
I gripped her head desperately, my fingers tangling in her hair as my hips rocked forward involuntarily, seeking more of that exquisite torture.
She responded by sucking my swollen nub even harder.
The world narrowed to nothing but this moment, this feeling, this woman who seemed to know exactly how to unravel me.
The climax crashed over me in relentless waves, each one more furious than the last. I bit my lip to stifle the cry that threatened to escape, my entire body convulsing as it shattered.
When the tremors finally subsided, she stood up gracefully and stepped away from me, leaving me struggling to catch my breath.
My chest heaved as I tried to process what had just happened, my legs still unsteady beneath me.
But before I could gather my scattered thoughts, she moved in again, her hand reaching up to grip my chin with firm possession.
She held my head exactly where she wanted it as she brought her lips to mine.
I could taste myself on her lips as her tongue entered my mouth, the intimate flavor both shocking and intoxicating.
The kiss felt claiming, as if she were marking me as hers.
Almost immediately, she stepped back, her movements controlled and purposeful as she began walking toward the door.
The casual way she moved, as if what had just transpired was nothing more than a brief interlude in her day, left me reeling.
I stood there frozen against the cool stone wall, my mind completely blank. What does one say after experiencing something like this? What was the proper response to being thoroughly undone by someone whose motivations remained completely mysterious?
"You might want to put Lioran's face on again," she said as her hand found the latch of the door.
I immediately focused on resuming my disguise once more and watched as she opened the door and stepped into the hall. With one last, casual glance over her shoulder, she added: “Your secret is safe with me.”
Then she was gone.
And I was left alone to the thundering storm of my thoughts.