21 #2
A rumbling hum filled the silence that followed. His hand left mine, and he ran his fingers through my long hair. It failed to calm me. My heart only thudded harder. And when he slowly wrapped the strands around his hand, I feared I’d made a terrible mistake.
Though his hold was far from gentle, it wasn’t what alarmed me. It was his nose against my nape that awakened my perilously lax instincts—that warned my chance to flee was gone.
I wasn’t leaving this room until he allowed it.
“When you’re not looking at me…” He used my hair to tilt my head.
“Is it easier for you to let me do this?” Something sharp grazed my skin.
His teeth. He ran them over the curve of my neck and shoulder, back and forth.
Once. Twice. Then he kissed my hammering pulse.
“Answer me.” Another kiss. This time, warmer—wetter—with a nip of his teeth.
“Y-yes.”
His hand slid down the door. He placed it on my lower stomach. “This?” His fingers spread, then closed and spread again, tickling and bunching my tunic.
“Yes,” I rasped.
His hand roamed higher but stopped right beneath my left breast. “This?”
“Yes,” I said, stronger now, wanting him to move that hand. Wanting to know what it would feel like to have it—
Voran captured my breast and flexed his fingers around it. “This?”
My eyes closed. The word left me instantly. “Yes.”
A groan coated my skin in gooseflesh. He muttered something under his breath. Something in the old language. Then he squeezed my breast before sliding his hand down my stomach.
I nearly protested. I’d liked it—more than liked how my heavy breast had felt in his large hand. A perfect fit. The way he’d squeezed it hard. Possessively.
But as that hand crept beneath my stomach, anticipation caught my breath, and it didn’t release it until his fingers reached my mound. Instinctively, my feet shifted to accommodate him—to encourage him to put his hand between my thighs.
He cupped me.
And I could have sworn the stone floor moved.
“This?”
“Yes,” I said at the same time.
A dark and unexpected chuckle washed over my neck. He kissed it, held my core harder—tighter. I moaned and pushed into his hand. Again, he kissed me. Then nipped me. Silken touches between pinches.
Breath burned past my slack lips. I wanted more. Needed more.
But his hold eased.
Before I could snatch his hand to keep it there, he slid a fingertip over the seam of my pants. I shivered, heat rushing through me. He did it again and again. Each time, I felt his mouth press against my neck, then something else.
Damp. My pants were getting damp.
Surely, Voran felt it too. Yet he rubbed me with the pad of his finger until discovering that pressure near my clit hitched my breath. He muttered more words I couldn’t understand and brought his finger to his face.
As he inhaled, my eyes opened. I began to wake up—enough to realize what he was doing. A furious blush joined the arousal heating my cheeks. But when he exhaled, it came with a throaty hum and his hand moving to my lower stomach.
The tips of his fingers dug under the waistband of my pants. He paused there. “This?”
Swallowing, I nodded.
“Say it, Ayla.”
My name. The husk of his thickened voice. Ay-lah-g. I smiled. “Yes.”
As if hearing the smile in my voice, he nipped my neck. Hard. My shoulders hunched as a laugh threatened to bubble up my throat.
My shoulders fell. My entire body pulled taut as he pushed his giant hand into my pants and over my wet core.
“Hands against the door, broshklin.”
Scrambled by sensation, I slapped my hands against the wood. All of me shook.
As did Voran’s voice when he used one finger to carefully open me. “This?”
Trembling, I leaned into him. A fractured sound left me. It was quite possibly the best thing I’d ever felt, yet still so far from enough.
“Fuck.” His swallow was harsh, then he gritted, “Say it.”
“Y-yes.” One million yeses, I thought.
He let my hair fall over my shoulder to seize my hip. He squeezed it, then smoothed his hand over my stomach. A firm touch. One that also told me he had me—to relax into him.
So I did.
My head lolled at his shoulder, and the slightest movement of that finger had me gripping his wrist with both hands.
He stopped.
“More,” I said—urged.
Another curse. Slowly, he ran his finger through me. An odd noise rumbled in his throat. A withheld growl, maybe. “Soft,” he murmured roughly. “So fucking slippery and warm.”
Those words clenched my core. Perhaps he felt it, as a low groan accompanied a kiss at my neck. He halted at my clit, then swept his finger over it.
My breath hitched, and I tensed. But I relaxed as he dragged his finger down to where I was most damp, then braced when he slid it back to my clit. This time, he didn’t just touch it. He rubbed it.
Gasping, I curled my fingers into his wrist.
“You tremble when I touch you here.” Slowly, Voran rubbed my clit again, and I moaned. “I want you to come because of me.”
“I want to.” I turned my head toward his clean-shaven jaw.
His chest heaved at my back. As he exhaled, he buried his nose into the curve of my throat, drenching it in heat. Stroking me back and forth, he asked throatily, “Have you had an orgasm before?”
“Yes,” I said. When he stiffened, I smiled. “I’ve made myself come.”
He didn’t relax. If anything, he became a more solid wall holding me up. “Tell me how.” His words were tight, pushed between his teeth. His touch paused at my opening. “Tell me so that I can do the same to you.”
I hesitated.
He nipped my neck.
Suppressing a laugh, I said, “Dip your finger in. Not too far because yours are rather long and—”
“You are still intact.” Another harsh swallow. “I remember, and my finger won’t have the honor of breaking you.”
Unsure what to make of that, I merely exhaled, “Oh.”
He hummed and dragged his nose to my ear. “Going to put my finger inside you now.”
I fought a smile. “All right.”
But I failed to remember that one of his fingers equaled two of mine—until he slowly inserted it. The thickness stole my breath and burned a little. My nails dug into his skin.
Voran muttered what sounded like a slew of curses in the old language. His finger stopped when he felt resistance. “What else?”
As I adjusted to the fullness, the burn subsided. “I usually leave my finger there while I touch my…” I couldn’t bring myself to say it.
Mercifully, I didn’t need to.
The hand at my stomach pushed into my pants. It stayed over my mound, but his finger reached my clit. He stroked it. “This?”
My voice croaked. “Yes.”
He stroked me again, then moved his finger down to gather my arousal. As he swirled it around my clit, heat engulfed me. Flooded me. Trapped, it had me sweltering, sweat misted, and breathing rapidly.
Inside me, his finger shifted. My body shuddered. I moaned.
Voran froze. Then moved it again.
And again.
I gripped his wrist, nails scoring into a thick vein. “Take it out,” I rasped, and he withdrew his finger. “Now put it back in.”
He did, and my legs quaked. Murmuring more words I didn’t understand, he repeatedly eased out and back in while gently circling my clit.
Then he flicked me.
My inhale broke, and I unraveled with violence.
I clamped my lips between my teeth, but the long moan refused to stay quelled. It escaped as pleasure careened through me. Struggling for breath, I shook against Voran. His arms tensed at my waist.
Grateful for the cage of his body, I leaned wholly into him—panting and reliant on him to hold me up. So I felt him still.
Then I felt warmth at my lower back. Damp.
Wet.
He’d orgasmed, too.
A smile unclenched my teeth.
It wilted when the world outside reminded us of its existence. Birdsong and laughter crept through the cracks in the stone. Clouds passed over the sun, letting more light into the prince’s room.
Yet the weight I typically carried from being with him wasn’t as heavy. It didn’t sink my stomach, just prodded, and that unnerved me. Releasing my clawed grip on his wrist, I winced at the crescent-moon marks on his skin.
Only when I straightened did Voran remove his hands from my pants. He delivered one to his mouth and sucked his finger.
The finger that had just been inside me.
I turned to him. Without words, all I could do was stare.
A feral gleam shone in his brightened eyes. As he released his finger, he scraped his teeth over it—licked then flashed them. “Before you flee, you should know…” He dug a hand into his hair, held it there as he stepped back. “I will soon do that with my mouth.”