Chapter 12 #2
Images flicked past behind my eyes. But these were not memories, mine or his.
Clothes tossed unceremoniously to the floor.
The cool sensation of silk sheets against naked skin.
Mordric’s voice whispering in my ear, the words indiscernible.
I became suddenly aware of a pulsing heat in the present.
Desire emanated from the King. It was hungry.
Possessive. It pooled around me, mingling with my own.
I drew my bottom lip between my teeth as the scene shifted to one of fingertips dancing down naked, flushed skin. My eyes flew open.
“Was that …?” I began, my breathing shallow.
“Just something I’ve been thinking about,” he said. “I’d like to make it a reality, if you’re interested.”
Anticipation swelled in my center. It would be a lie to claim that I hadn’t thought about this moment. Longed for it, in fact. I craved the firm touch of his hands on my skin, the same feelings of pleasure that he’d teased me with in the images. I wanted this. No, I needed this.
My voice came out in a whisper. “I am.”
He grinned. “Good.”
I leaned toward him, eager for the sensation of his lips against mine.
He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers tracing the curve of my neck and collarbone.
His kiss sent a shiver down my spine. My skin tightened, as if it was being stretched over my bones.
My lips parted, allowing his tongue to dart into my mouth.
His hand drifted over my breasts, which strained against the fabric of my bodice.
My heart pounded against my ribcage, my breathing growing shallow.
He pulled backward, leaving me breathless.
He tutted as he ran a finger along the front of my bodice, his dark eyes gleaming. “This gown is beautiful,” he sighed. “But I’m afraid we won’t be able to get very far with you still in it.”
My cheeks flushed. “Oh?”
He took my hand and pulled me to my feet.
Gooseflesh covered the skin of my arms. Placing his hands on my hips, he spun me around until I was staring at a portrait of the third King of Valen, which hung upon the opposite wall.
My eyes fluttered shut as Mordric ran his fingers through my hair, sweeping it like a curtain over my shoulder.
He trailed a finger slowly down my spine to its base, where he began loosening the knots that held my bodice together.
I held my breath as he slowly unraveled the laces.
It was agony to wait. As the fabric began to give, I clasped the bodice to my chest to keep it from falling to the floor.
My heartbeat pounded against my closed fist. He knew exactly what he was doing to me, I realized.
He knew that a carnal instinct was rearing its head inside me, hungry for more. I bit my lip.
When he was finally done, I turned to face him, hovering mere inches from his chest. The scent of ink reached my nose as he leaned in close and trailed his thumb along my bottom lip. My buttocks pressed against the hard edge of the table. My gaze dropped to his lips. Curse me.
“I fear you will be my undoing,” he whispered, as if to himself.
I frowned, but before I could respond, I found his lips on mine. His fingers wound around mine, loosing my hold on my bodice. It fell to the floor, his gaze dropping with it. He stiffened, running his tongue along his lips.
“You’re beautiful,” is all he said.
Unable to contain myself, I threw my arms around his neck and returned his kiss with fervor. His tongue parted my lips as his fingers tangled in my hair. The hardness pressed against my thigh was confirmation that his want was as strong as mine.
“I need you,” I whispered in his ear as he landed kisses along my collarbone, his fangs brushing my skin. For a moment, I was overwhelmed with the unnerving desire to feel them inside me. “Now.”
His teasing was done. The vampire king unraveled the laces of my shift with inhuman swiftness, seams ripping as he practically tore it off of me.
His gaze grew ravenous as he lowered his mouth to my breasts.
He flicked his tongue, tracing circles over my bare skin.
I tugged his shirt over his head, tossing it unceremoniously to the floor.
I ran my hand along the taut muscles of his chest. He was built like a warrior, I thought.
My hand sank lower. I wanted to explore every inch of him.
Grabbing me by the backs of my thighs, he lifted me onto the table.
His hand crept up my inner thigh, teasing me as he got closer and closer to the part of me that ached the most for his touch.
I writhed against him, gasping as his fingers slipped inside.
My arousal allowed them to glide seamlessly in and out of me. A whimper escaped me as he paused.
“Don’t stop,” I begged.
He straightened suddenly, forcing me down onto the table. A giggle escaped me as silver goblets crashed against the floor, clattering across the marble floors. “Someone might come running in here thinking we’re in trouble,” I protested weakly.
“Oh?” he said, loosing his breeches with one hand. I moaned as he kissed the hollow of my throat, his arousal flush against my thigh. “Do you think they’ll hear you? Something tells me you’re going to be quite loud.”
I shuddered.
“Perhaps I should stop,” he mused, his thumb parting my lips. I tasted myself on his fingertips.
“Don’t you dare,” I whispered.
I gasped as he pressed into me, his hands sliding up my outer thighs, anchoring me in place.
Our bodies clashed together as he thrust forward.
I wrapped my legs around him, grinding my hips into his.
He shuddered and I relished the hungry look in his eyes, the one that I was responsible for.
I sucked my bottom lip between my teeth.
He rocked forward, his movements becoming more and more urgent as we inched closer to release.
Our limbs tangled together as the table rattled beneath us, echoing for all the castle to hear.
Fortunately, no one came running in to save us from ourselves, not even when the table began to rattle again, or when he carried me, wrapped in the tattered remains of my gown, to my chambers where he made love to me a third time.
When we finally collapsed, sweating and exhausted, onto the coverlet, I nestled into his chest, the fine hairs that carpeted it tickling my cheek.