“Tell me, my love,” Sedrak said, as Leola led him to the chambers Ryken had prepared for them. “What reason did your uncle give you for wanting the ceremony this very day?”
Leola stopped before a door and turned to her new husband. Even though they had spent so much time together, she was still taken aback by his size as he moved close to her in the corridor.
“This is the door,” she said quietly. “It is a tradition that you must carry me over the threshold.”
Sedrak stepped toward her and touched her cheek. He trailed his finger from her cheek to her neck, then followed the collar of the dress Datharia had chosen. It dipped low on her chest, so his fingertip ran over the curve of her breast. She shivered.
“You still have not answered my question,” Sedrak growled. His voice was stern, but there was a playful smile on his lips. He slipped a finger beneath her bodice and ran it over her right nipple. Leola sucked in her breath.
“Was it my uncle who insisted that we wed tonight?” she asked with faux innocence. “I believe he had the impression that the demand was yours.”
Sedrak cocked his head, smiling.
Leola smiled back. “I do not, myself, intervene in these affairs,” she said teasingly.
Sedrak gripped the bodice of her dress, crushing the material in his fist. Leola heard the fabric rend, but had no time to look down, for he had picked her up by the waist, easily, with one hand, and in another brief moment she was hanging over his shoulder, and they were entering the room.
Only two torches illuminated the room, along with a fire. Sedrak kicked the door closed and tossed Leola onto the bed. When she looked up at him, she saw an even greater hunger in his eyes than she had seen before.
He discarded his furs, revealing his bare chest—for there had been no tunic that would fit a man his size in the castle. The light of the fire danced on his smooth chest, capturing the sharp, hard curves of his muscles. He hastily unfastened his pants, but was on the bed, on top of Leola, before he was fully unclothed.
He put his fingers in her hair and pulled her to him, his other hand caressing her throat. “I have wanted you for so long,” he growled. The hand caressing her throat moved down to the bodice of her dress and ripped it from her body as he swallowed her mouth with his.
This kiss was unlike the others; his tongue moved into her mouth, exploring urgently, claiming her. But he released her lips, and moved his mouth down her neck, to her chest, to her bared breast. He cupped it in his hand and closed his lips around her nipple.
The heat of his mouth and the playful flicks of his tongue made her back arch to meet him. The heat in her lower body began to boil; every motion of his tongue seemed to be connected by a taut wire to the place between her legs that made her come, right through her body. Every movement of his tongue plucked the wire and made it sing within her.
She grasped his hair and clung to him, for she felt she might fall from the edge of the world if it continued to spin as it was. The prickly stubble on his jaw scraped her breasts, then her abdomen. He ripped away more of her dress, his jaw traveling further, lower, his hands pulling her clothes away.
She lifted her head to watch him as he pulled her torn dress away from her body, and all of the undergarments Datharia had insisted she wear. Then she felt the scrape of his jaw against her inner thigh, and the heat of his mouth closed in on the center of her legs.
She shuddered, and then tipped her head back when his tongue moved to the place that drove her so wild. He began slowly, teasing her, flicking at the sensitive face of that private place and then retreating, letting her body incinerate with desire the way he let a spanking glow red-hot on her skin before giving her another.
He started to move his tongue rhythmically against her button, and she gripped his head, looking down at him. She wanted to tell him that she craved feeling him inside of her, but she could not speak. “Sedr… ah…” she croaked.
But it was too late, the feeling became too intense, and like a rolling stone, it gathered momentum slowly at first but then became unstoppable. She screamed as her pleasure overtook her.
But even after she began to fall from the great height of pleasure, he continued to move his tongue against that place, and her thighs snapped closed, for the sensation was too intense, and she could not bear it.
Sedrak pushed her thighs gently open with his hands, and held her so that she knew she could not escape. She tossed her head on the mattress, for the pillows had long been flung in either direction. She mewled and whimpered. “Master,” she panted. “I cannot… it is too much…”
But he continued, until she was writhing on the bed, and the painful ecstasy ebbed away to building pleasure again. Leola stared down at him, and he looked at her over the mound of her womanhood.
Suddenly, he rose from between her legs, and she gasped as if he had struck her, for that was how she felt: the absence of his attention slammed into her, a great void. She reached for him, and he caught her wrists and held them, using his other hand to remove his pants and free his cock.
Then he guided her hand to his organ, and wrapped her fingers around it. From the eye at the tip, a creamy drop of his seed had formed, and she longed to lick it.
But more than that, she longed to feel him inside of her, and
