Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Cyra held her breath as Reif laid her down upon his bed.
The silk comforter was cool against her skin, the plush pillows seemed to welcome her home.
Reif hovered above her, bracing one hand near her head as his fingers traced her cheek, her neck, then lower to the valley of her breasts.
She curled her fingers into the soft fabric, tension coiling through her as his gaze lazily drank her in, lingering over every inch of her until she heated beneath the intensity of his stare.
“How would you prefer it?” His voice was quiet in the stillness between them, yet it was coated with strained yearning.
Rubbing her lips together, she loosed a breath from her pinched lungs. “What are my options?”
Again, Reif smiled, leaving her lightheaded.
It was as though there was only the two of them in the entirety of the world.
Everything else seemed to fade away, to blur into the background.
To cease to exist. There was only the beating of their hearts.
The rushing of their blood. When he smiled, Cyra found herself measuring every second, every moment, until she could breathe again.
It seemed impossible around him.
“There’s a number of positions at our disposal.
” His thumb followed the curving line of her lips.
Stretched out above her, he shifted slightly, nestling himself comfortably between her legs.
The hardness of his length nudged her inner thigh and she settled beneath him, letting her knees fall open a little wider.
“But to save you from feeling overwhelmed, I can share only my favorites.”
“Yes.” Her chest heaved and she swallowed the knot of anxiety clawing up the back of her throat. “Your favorites.”
“We can continue just like this, if you like. With me above you.” Reif brushed a few strands of hair back from her face, lightly kissing the corner of her mouth.
Their lips were dangerously close to touching.
“Or I can lay on my back, and you can be on top. If you’d rather something less…
intimate…I can take you from behind. Or even up against the wall if you want more of a thrill. ”
A weak laugh escaped her. “I never knew there were so many options.”
Reif leaned close, his nose brushing against hers. The gesture was more amorous than she ever could’ve imagined. “This is your first time, Cyra. I want it to be memorable for you. But I also want you relaxed and comfortable.”
She loosened her death-like grip on the bed linens and reached up, weaving both of her arms around his neck. “If it’s all the same to you, my lord. I’d like to carry on like this, with you on top. Just in case.”
He flashed a teasing smirk. “Just in case of what?”
Just in case she did something foolishly reckless, like try to kiss him.
“In case I have any questions.” The lie tasted sour on her tongue.
“Of course.” His hand skated down her thigh then slid beneath her knee, hiking her leg to his hip.
Maintaining his balance on top of her, he adjusted his angle, and she felt the tip of his shaft align with her center.
“Now, it may be slightly uncomfortable when we first begin, you might experience a shred of pain, but—-“
“It will be worth it,” she interjected, offering him her best smile. “I’m sure of it.”
She wasn’t entirely sure how she knew, but in her bones, in the very depths of her soul, she realized Reif had been the right choice from the beginning.
For months she’d plotted, planned, and agonized over who to give herself to, and none of the other lords she set her sights upon had ever measured up. Until now. Until him.
In the quiet of her mind, she could freely admit she wanted him.
After tasting him, after the delightful things he’d done to her with his tongue, all she longed for, all she craved, was the feel of him inside of her.
Part of her knew he’d take his time, and she was grateful for it, though she couldn’t deny the ricochet of lust that spasmed through her when he mentioned all the other ways he could claim her.
It was only a pity she would never get to experience him taking her from behind or up against a wall, because both of those situations sounded positively riveting.
“Are you ready?” Reif asked. His hand squeezed her thigh, kneading and massaging.
Cyra looked up at him, at the sea-swept strands of dark blond hair framing his face, at the dizzying turquoise of his eyes, and let herself drown in him. “Yes.”
Then he started moving.
Reif rolled his hips forward and she felt him, all of him.
His thick length slid into her wet folds, inch by torturous inch, stretching her wide.
It was strange yet exhilarating, the way he fit inside of her, but then he pushed in deeper, and her chest rose and fell in quick, rapid breaths.
She was certain she couldn’t take any more of him.
He was too large and she was too small. She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable agony that would follow once he seated himself in her fully.
“Look at me,” he crooned. He released her thigh and captured her face with his hand, thumb swiping back and forth across the apple of her cheek. “Open your eyes and look at me, Cyra.”
She reluctantly obeyed, only to find his ocean eyes gazing into hers. Their noses were touching. Their lips were less than a breath apart. In fact, if she angled her head just right, she could kiss him.
“Wrap your legs around me.” His directions were gentle but firm, and again she listened, locking her ankles around his lower back. “Now, breathe with me, my little fire queen.”
She inhaled sharply at the same time Reif buried himself, filling her completely.
He broke through her barrier, and she cried out as he groaned, her body seizing around him, around the intrusion.
There was a twinge of pain, of discomfort, and despite her best efforts, a single tear slid from the corner of her eye.
Reif caught it with the tip of his tongue, his mouth drifting to the shell of her ear. “Are you well, my lady?”
Cyra was frozen beneath him, caught in a state of paralyzing shock. She didn’t know whether to slide into the lure of endless euphoria or beg him to get it over with so she could return to her home and cry herself to sleep.
“I’m not entirely sure.” She realized she had fistfuls of his hair clenched in her white-knuckled grip, and that her legs were so tightly locked around his waist, she was surprised he could still draw air.
“Perhaps this will help.” Reif gradually pulled away to slide out of her, and a rush of panic left her shaken.
“No! No, please—”
He pumped back into her, more easily this time as her slick walls accommodated his size. The discomfort was significantly less, and it was more of a satisfied fullness, with a wondrous edge she couldn’t quite place. But whatever it was, she wanted more of it. All of it. And all of him.
“Better?” Reif repeated the movement, the near-withdrawal and compulsory surge, leaving her dizzy with desire.
“Much better.” Pleasure bloomed low in her belly. Her head fell back against the mound of pillows, and she willingly tilted her hips toward him. This time, tension bled from her, and her body softened, ready for him. “Again. Please.”
“Anything for you.”
Cyra tried not to overthink his words, focusing instead on the way he clasped their hands together above her head.
How he entwined their fingers and dusted a kiss across her forehead.
How he started thrusting in a smooth, steady rhythm, bringing her with him each time his shaft sank into her.
She wiggled a bit, wanting him closer, clenching around his cock in a silent plea for more.
But then a scowl wrinkled across his forehead.
Anxiety plagued her.
“Does it not feel good for you?” she asked, her voice laced with timidity.
“Cyra.” Reif spoke her name like a prayer. “It feels so fucking good. It’s just…you are exceptionally tight and going this slow is quite literally killing me.”
“Then go faster,” she quipped, arching off the bed to meet him.
“I don’t…” His jaw clenched and a muscle feathered there. "I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.” She was back on that precipice, on that edge of one singular, inexplicable need. Release, he’d called it. “I promise I’ll be fine. Please Reif, please.”
“Sweet shores,” he muttered, shaking his head. “How can I ever refuse you when you ask so nicely?”
It was all the warning she had before his even and drawn pumps morphed into frantic surges as he plunged into her, over and over.
She could barely keep up but he kept going, sending her higher until she was soaring.
Her nails clawed at his bare shoulders as she reveled in the feel of their bodies colliding, as she drew devastatingly closer to that pinnacle she coveted.
Mind whirring, she thrashed beneath him, each thrust igniting her soul. Setting her on fire.
Her magic burned, bright and hot. Seeking. Searching.
“Tell me what you need,” Reif growled, and her blood sang.
But it wasn't release. Not this time.
“You,” she gasped. “I need you.”
He kissed her chest and neck, laved her flesh with his tongue, and when his teeth bit into the column of her throat in a heady mix of blinding pain and explosive pleasure, Cyra fractured.
Reif marked her. Branded her. Owned her.
She catapulted into oblivion, his name falling from her lips on a sobbing gasp, as he emptied himself inside of her.
His movements slowed, growing languid, as he planted faint little kisses across the tops of her breasts.
In one smooth motion, he wrapped his arm beneath her, gently rolling them so he was on his back, and she was sprawled on top of him.
Her head came to rest on his slightly damp chest, the beating of his heart echoing in her ears.
And he draped a silk sheet across them, one hand at the small of her back, the other casually cupping her bottom.