36 AMBROSE
UNDERNEATH
I stood beneath the steady stream of water, reveling in the feeling of warmth flowing over my head.
I hated this castle and everything in it. I hated the feeling of stumbling in the dark, completely blind to everything around me, and I hated having to play nice with my former commander, Gancanagh.
But, if there was one thing I didn’t mind about underneath, it was their hot water.
Rebel camps and sea travel didn’t often provide opportunities to be truly clean, and I had to admit that I took advantage of the showers every time I visited Underneath.
Reluctantly, I switched off the faucet and stepped out. Droplets of water flew across the bathing room as I stepped out of the shower and shook out my wet hair. I grabbed a large towel from the pile on a nearby shelf, and wrapped it loosely around my waist.
I’d been in the bathing room for the better part of twenty minutes, so when I strode back into the bedroom I was unsurprised to find Lonnie sprawled on the bed, her fiery mane, rebellious and untamed, fanned around her head like a halo. She’d changed out of her gown, and had taken the liberty of wearing one of my shirts like a nightgown.
For a heartbeat, or perhaps an eternity, I stood rooted to the spot, ensnared by the sight. Fuck.
Her eyes were closed, and so for a moment I let my gaze linger over the curve of her neck, the freckles that dusted her shoulders like a constellation charting my downfall. The scent of honey and something wilder, unmistakably Lonnie, permeated the cool air, stirring a hunger within me.
The image of Lonnie standing in the grand hall flashed before my eyes—her arm outstretched, her hand unflinching as she dropped the bloody head onto the polished surface of the king’s table.
It was brutal, violent, and the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.
Shaking from my revery, I strode across the room and sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping beneath my weight.
Lonnie didn’t move, but here, the air was even thicker with a fragrance that sent my senses into disarray.
My nostrils flared. Oh. Oh, fuck.
The scent of Lonnie’s arousal wrapped around me, and the sudden realization of what she’d been doing while I stood feet away hit me like a bolt of lightning. I closed my eyes, drawing in a deep breath. How the fuck could I be expected to resist that?
“Did you come yet, love?”
She let out a soft gasp and stiffened, betraying what I suspected the moment I scented the air. She was not asleep. No, she was far, far from it. The entire time I’d been just one room over, she’d been in here, petting her pretty cunt to make herself come.
She opened one eye to look at me, and I leaned toward her as if pulled by invisible strings. A pretty flush crossed her cheeks, and it was like a flag waving me toward her. A beacon coming alight, telling me to take her. Taste her. Give in to what I’d wanted for years, long before I’d ever met her in person.
“No,”
she whispered.
For a moment, I faltered. No? Fuck, I thought she wanted this too.
Then, I remembered the question I’d asked her, and a smile curved my lips. I looked directly into her honey-brown gaze, asking again just to be sure. “You haven’t come yet?”
“No,”
she breathed, softer this time. “Not yet.”
“That’s a shame,”
I found myself replying, my words running away from me, tumbling out of my mouth before I could stop them. “You should.”
Her breath hitched, a sharp intake that cut through the thick silence of the chamber. “Excuse me?”
“Continue,”
I found myself saying, the command resonant in my tone. “Make yourself come, love. I want to see you touch your pretty little cunt for me.”
Her eyes went wide and her blush deepened, but from the way she looked at me, and ran her tongue over her lips I was sure it was curiosity, not fear, I saw in her expression. Arousal. Want.
There was no mistaking the challenge in her face, like she was daring me to stop her, to change my mind, as she slowly lifted her hand and sucked her fingers into her mouth.
Fuck me.
I watched her swirl her tongue around her middle and pointer finger, wetting them, and showing me exactly what she’d do if ever I had her for real.
Then, she pulled her finger from her mouth, and let her hand travel lower. Her fingers dipped beneath the hem of the shirt she wore—my shirt, and I watched her trail her hand up the inside of her thigh.
“Show me,”
I commanded. “Pull your shirt up.”
She obliged, obediently reaching down with her other hand to pull the hem of the shirt up to rest against her stomach. “Like this?”
My eyes widened, my pupils dilating, and I ran my tongue over my lips. “Higher.”
Her smile turned teasing, and she inched the shirt slowly over her body, tormenting me with how slow she could move.
“I will rip that fucking thing off you right now,”
I said roughly.
She laughed, and tugged it over her head, baring her entire body to me.
I sucked in a breath, and had to close my eyes for a moment to bring myself back under control. Her body was perfect, soft in all the right places, but it was more so her confidence that held me captivated. It was the way she watched me, like she could see right through me, and although she was naked, I was the one who was vulnerable.
“Begin again,”
I told her roughly. “Lick your fingers.”
She obliged, smiling as she did so, and then popped her hand back out of her mouth. “Now what?”
I froze. By the gods, if she let me direct her, tell her what to do…
“Run your hand over your inner thigh.”
She settled back against the mountain of red pillows covering the bed, and again obeyed, trailing her fingers slowly against her too-soft skin until I felt it was me she was teasing, rather than herself.
“Use your other hand to play with your nipples.”
Her nipples, already peaked, turned impossibly harder as she circled them with one long finger. “Don’t you want to help?”
I shook my head, as I couldn’t tell her “no”
without lying. Fuck, I did want to “help”
as she put it, but more, I wanted to see how far I could push her. How long would it take before she balked, or would she meet my every challenge with one of her own.
“I’ll join in when you’ve earned it,”
I told her. “Spread your legs wider. Good. Now, run your fingers through your cunt.”
I watched her falter slightly, and for a moment I thought she would tell me to fuck off. That this was over. She certainly didn’t need any more males directing her, or treating her as if she couldn’t care for herself.
But then, as if she were pushing away any embarrassment, she obeyed.
I smiled. Perhaps she liked giving in to others’ direction, in the same way I craved the control of commanding everything around me. Perhaps in the way that my greatest desire was total omniscience, Lonnie preferred the freedom of being taken care of, and not having to worry about everyone around her.
I stared down at her, wet and ready for me, and licked my lips. In a moment, she’d forget that hesitation entirely—I’d make sure of it.
At my direction, she trailed her fingers up and down, growing wetter with every pass. Her mouth opened, and I watched her entire body relax, the tension draining from her, as she let out a long sigh.
“I want you to massage just around your clit, now,”
I told her. “Not too hard.”
She closed her eyes, and did as I asked, brushing soft circles over her most sensitive parts until her legs began to shake slightly.
“Are you wet for me, love?”
“Yes,”
she breathed.
“Good, now you can touch your clit. Use one finger, and do it gently. Imagine I’m touching you.”
She looked at me then, and I relished her whimper, and the raw desire in her eyes. The tension coiled between us, a serpent waiting to strike, potent and primordial.
“Are you going to come for me, love?”
“Mmmhmm,”
she moaned.
“Ask my permission. You should always ask to get what you want.”
She kept rubbing, and I watched her hungrily, as she leaned her head back, and closed her eyes. “May I come?”
“Yes, love.”
She opened her mouth in a silent scream, her face scrunching up almost as if she were in pain. Then, the moment stretched taut—a bowstring pulled to its limit, then her back arched, and the air itself vibrated with the force of her climax. The sight was a revelation, a tapestry of ecstasy woven from the threads of restraint and longing.
When finally she came down, she looked up at me with some combination of apprehension and expectation painted across her face.
“Well done,”
I praised her.
I grabbed her hand, and pulled it toward me. Her eyes widened, when I sucked her fingers into my mouth. Gods, she tasted like magic and damnation.
She pulled her hand back, breathing heavily.
“Don’t you want…”
she trailed off, her question hanging in the air.
Ignoring my own aching cock, I reached for her, wrapping her in my arms. “Not tonight, love. Tonight, I just want you to sleep.”
She laughed softly into the darkness. “If I didn’t know better, I’d call you a liar.”
“But you do know better,”
I pointed out.
I moved us both to the center of the bed, and held her there, petting her hair, until her breathing evened out.
“Ask me what I’m thinking,”
Lonnie said.
I froze. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking I’m a terrible person.”
I raised an eyebrow. She was far from that, but what would make her think so? “Why?”
“Because I think I must be fated to destroy your family. I already left your brother and cousin to make sure that my presence wouldn’t kill them, and now you’re being…like this,”
she waved her hand aimlessly in the air. “And I’m wondering if I’ll end up killing you all, anyway.”
My eyes went wide. Somewhere in there, between all the guilt and self-loathing, I was fairly sure she was admitting to wanting me.
I wished I could reassure her, except, I was fairly certain she was right.
If history was anything to go by, then she probably would end up killing me—all of us—in the end.
I only hoped the sacrifice would be worth it.