And then he sits up, reaching over his shoulder to haul his doublet off. Muscle curls in his abdominals. I see the ripple of them, before he’s casting his clothing aside.
He holds out a hand. “Then come here. And I will show you.”
5
Thiago
Gods, she’s so fucking perfect as she slides into my lap and presses her lips to mine.
All these years and she’s finally here in my arms. I can’t stop kissing her. I can’t stop tracing my palms over her skin. She’s real. She’s here.
She’s mine.
I had plans for the evening the second I saw her. She would be skittish. I needed to get to know her, woo her, gods, maybe even kiss her….
But she destroyed those plans the second she kissed me.
The moment she stripped off that gown all my thoughts of a slow seduction dissolved like a dream. She doesn’t want to know my name, or where I come from. She just wants this. Fine. I can work with that. I will have her one way or the other.
“Now what?” I ask, brushing my hand up her thigh as our lips break apart. Her skin is like silk.
“I don’t know.” There’s a hint of a blush to her cheeks.
“You’re ruining me,” I point out.
“Yes, but…. I’ve never been in this position before.” Her gaze drops away. “I don’t chase strange males. I don’t kiss them. I don’t…. I don’t do this.”
I take pity on her. “This?”
Taking her hand I place her palms on my chest and glide them over my skin. Her breath catches, her gaze focusing on what her hands are doing. It gives me a moment to examine her face.
Gods, I’ve dreamed of her thousands of times, imagined her thousands more, but I never even came close to the truth. There’s a certain type of wonder in her expression, as if she’s inexperienced. I doubt that’s the truth. She wouldn’t have simply stripped her gown off if she was—and she’s clearly after pleasure tonight and nothing else—but it makes an odd shiver run through my gut.
Mine. She feels like mine in all the ways that matter. My cock aches. I want to roll her onto her back and drive myself into her. I want it so desperately I can barely restrain myself.
But I do.
I capture those wrists and lift one of her hands to my mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to her palm. Our eyes meet. She shivers. And only then do I let myself look at the rest of her.
She’s lean and lightly muscled. No delicate court lady, this one. The sleek muscles in her thighs argue for hours in the saddle, and the clear delineation in her arms speaks of some form of manual labor. There’s a faint callus on her hand too. I capture it and explore that callus, forced to seek my answers in her skin since she’s so unforthcoming.
I have answering calluses on my own hands, though mine are on both palms.
Sword work?
How intriguing. She doesn’t bear the form of a warrior, nor a guard, but someone’s taught her about footwork. I could see it while we danced. She’s not merely trained in the art of dancing—though her form there is excellent. It’s more than that.
So she dances like a court-trained lady. She clearly knows her way around a sword. And the stables.
Aristocrat, my mind supplies, but probably not of the highest echelons. She doesn’t speak like a woman who is used to commanding others. She doesn’t like knowing she has me at her mercy tonight. She’s too kind to be a member of some ruling family somewhere.
“You’re beautiful,” she whispers, tracing the “tattoos” across my chest.
I feel Wrath stirring against her touch, and force him deep inside. Capturing her hand, I kiss it again. “You keep stealing all my lines, my love.”
“Mmm. What next?” she whispers. “If I were seducing you, what would I do next?”
I kiss my way up the inside of her arm, flexing upright, until she sinks into the cradle of my hips. “You would grab a fistful of my hair,” I whisper, “and let me taste those beautiful breasts.”
She complies immediately and I shudder as she brings my face to her skin. I’m not the only one. The second my mouth closes over her nipple, she gasps and grinds against me. Fuck. She’s so responsive. I suckle hard, even as she rocks against me instinctively. I’m ridiculously close to spending in my trousers. I haven’t been this on edge since I was a young fae warrior in his prime.
Capturing her in my arms, I roll her onto her back, tracing my tongue around and around her nipple. Our eyes meet as she moans.
I could drown in her eyes. They’re a starry night, an endless canvas of the darkest midnight. I can’t hold back any longer. I drive up and capture that dangerous mouth, the one that’s causing me to lose control, lose all my focus.
She kisses me back exuberantly, twining her arms around my neck.
There’s something about the way she kisses that steals my breath.
Holding nothing back. Giving everything of herself and more. There’s no artifice in her. No games. Nothing beyond need. She kisses me as if she needs my mouth the way she needs oxygen.
“Vi.” I breathe the word against her throat. “You’re getting dangerously close to undoing me.”
“Good,” she purrs. “Why don’t you undo those trousers?”
“Is that a command?”
“Does it need to be?”
“I don’t know. You’re the one in control.”
She drags her fingernails down my chest. “Then take them off. Take it all off. I want to see you bare.”
I rear onto my knees, my hands dropping to my buttons. Her gaze follows my fingers and so I make it a tease. One button at a time, until I’m fisting the hard shaft of my erection. The way she looks at me….
“You’re… huge.” Her eyes widen, and she brushes tentative fingers against me.
Capturing her hand, I curl her fingers around me. “You say all the right things,” I tease. “Are
