“I thought about licking my way up your legs tohere”–he pressesmy palm to my pussy– “and eating you out until you screamed.I thought a good brownie never screamed…”
He pushestwo of my fingers against the fabric.My hips buck.My head lollsback.I tremble against his hard chest.“But you screamed last night and in my dreams.Over.”He releasesmy hand as he yanksone of my sleeves down.“And over.”Downcomesthe other one.“And over again.”Shoving the cloth down to my waist, he freesmy breasts to the air.
I recall all too suddenly that we’reflying.The rush of the air against my chestleavesme frozen.My hand stills.My breathing stops.
Reaching up, Richard grabsmy chin and forcesme to turn myhead.Electricity arcsbetween us, shooting through me and restarting my lungs with strong bolts of desire.Breathing hard against his lips, I suck in gasps of air.His tongue sweepsinside, claiming mine, making me forget where we were.How high.
“That’s it,” he murmurs.“Focus on me.”He kissesme deeply, and I concentrate on the touch of his tongue, the hot moan vibrating against my mouth.My hand startsmoving again as he cupsmy breasts.He pinchesthe tight budof my nipple, rolling it between his fingers.As I sag forward, my mouthleaveshis.
But Ikeepmy mind on his hands as he brushesmy hair back.His lipspresson my neck, licking and sucking and giving the gentlest bite.I jerk against him.Root myself in the sensations.His hand slipsdown my stomach, beneath the fabric, my fingers.
I pant withanticipation, but he doesn’t touch me there.He moves his other handto fondle my other breast.Helickshis way up to my ear.Snagging it in between his teeth, he growls, “I thought about you riding my hand again.I licked it clean after you left.”
Two fingers push inside me.A scream eruptsfrom my lips, but it’sripped away by the wind.I turn my head,searchingfor his lips,rolling my hipsagainst his hand when Ifindthem.
He claimsme at both ends, his fingers moving so gently, his lipsbrandingme sohungrily.The stark contrastleavesme shaken, unable to decide if I should be riding his hand faster or kissing him slower.Hetakesover every one of my senses – his taste of desire, his scent of masculinity, his soft growls of pleasure.And his touch.Dear gods, his touch.
My hips bucking, my chest heaving,I slip a fingerinsidemy pussyto join his.Within seconds, I’morgasming on a scream.He squeezesmy breast as he swallowsmy cries of pleasure.Pinchesmy nipple to the point of pain.Then he’syanking myhandout of my jumpsuit and pressing down on my overly sensitive clit until I’mjerking around in front of him.Spasming from the near painful pleasure, I struggle to find the words to make him stop.To beg for mercy.But all I manageis, “Please.”
“Please, my king,” he murmursin my ear, causing my whole body to shiver.
“Please…my king.” And just like that, heisinside me again, building me up as he pumpsin and out.In and out.In and out.So fast Ican’tkeep track.He teases my breasts.His fingerscurl inside me, knocking against that sweet spot that causesme to see stars.As my arousal dripsdown my legs and soaksmy ass, I squirm against him.
“Wait,” I breathe.“You’re going to stain my clothes.”
Relentless, hedoesn’tlisten.
Arching against him, I screamas he tosses my soul up into the stars.Creates the sun of my galaxy, the first dawn of the gods.And there he leaves me, in a state so raw and beautiful, I can’t help but tremble.
Ever so slowly, he pullshis fingers out of me.My hips rise, still chasing those last little tremors.He raises his hand towards my face, then past it to his.The wet slurp of his mouth causesmy lips to part as I envision him sucking on his fingers.Tastingme.
Lowering his hand, he slipsit back inside myjumpsuit.Running his fingers against my wet thighs, he scoopsupmore of my desire and bringsit to his lips.A moan escapeshim this time,rumbling from his chest.“I’m thinking about how wet you’ll be when you sit on my face.”
A pressure startsto build again as his hand dipssouth.He slidestwofingersbetween mysoaked lips, cleaning me thoroughly.My hips buck.My groan matcheshis.Afterhe lickshis fingersonce more, he pullsmy sleevesback up.
“Good girl.You did so well.”
Mycheeksflush.My chest expands.I half-turn to reach for him,but with strong fingers, he grabsmy hands before theycando any exploring of their own.Amusement lineshis voice when he whispers in my ear, “You can open your eyes now.Maeve’s landed.”
My brows furrow in disappointment, then confusion, then horror as realitycomescrashing down on me.Raising a hand tomy lipsas my eyes fly open, I wonder howhe slipped past my defences.If he did it that easily, how the heck am I supposed to survive this war?
My gazemeetshisas he liftsme off Maeve.When he smirksat me,he looks so arrogantly cute thatthe urge to warn him about the wasps bubblesup my throat.
But I swallow it down.
I swallow it like the good little brownie Iam.
Because I might not be strong enough to fight him off myself, but my babies are.And they haven’t eaten in days.
Twenty-Six
Agood brownie neverlets their pet monsters eat people.
Technically, the wasps will stab him to death…-Arienna
My nervesareall over the place asweapproach theteal and purplemushroom-shaped house I call my home.Ordidcall.Or still called.Whatever.Thisisno time to get hung up on grammar.
Because inside therearewhoknowshow many wasps.Poisonous little bastards that hate being caged.And outsideisJace, who’sreaching to open the door.And around us are a hundred, curious brownies, all about to be witnesses to his death.But between us (Richard and I) and them are a dozen guards – and surely they will kill me as soon as Jace starts to scream.
