She stood there,flying, under his touch, for days.
Maybe weeks.
She never wanted her feet to find solid ground.
Her vision returned to her. He removed his fingers, bringing them to his mouth as he met her gaze. “You aredivine.” He whispered, untangling her leg and lowering her to the ground before him. “For the record.” He wore a smug grin. “That’s three for the orphaned knight, and zero for the King of Camelot.”
Guinevere blushed furiously as a knock rang out in the room. “That’ll be the bath. I’ll just be there.” He jabbed his thumb towards her closet, tugging her up on his feet before darting out of sight.
28
Guinevere stood silently as the maids filled her basin up with water. She was afraid to move. The inside of her thighs were sticky. She worried that even a single step could release a dam.
The women left with a bow, and the queen turned and locked the door shut.
Lancelot came back into view, dragging his thumb across his lips as he drank her in. “You are an angel,” He murmured, “Or a wicked, wicked incubus. I can’t decide.”
Gwen opened her mouth to respond, but snapped it shut again, scowling.
“Tongue tied?” His hands dropped to the ties on his breeches. “I think I’ll soak my tiredbones.”
Her eyes tracked his movements, watching as he slowly untied the ragged pants. She hadn’t — even after all this time, she’d neverseen him.
“You sure you don’t want to come closer?” He teased, “View’s better over here.” He shimmied his trousers down just a smidge, the deep lines carved into his abdomen becoming more pronounced.
She couldn’t speak. Her tongue was leaden in her mouth, bodywracked with desire, withwant.
His hands froze. She stepped towards him, desperately trying to keep herself from sprinting.
It was her turn.
She knelt before him, grinning.
“Stand up,” His voice was tight as he tried to fight against his own desires.
All it did was cause Gwen to burn harder.
Her fingers slipped just underneath the band of his pants, and a rumble built in his chest. “Guinevere, you have to stop.” He clenched his jaw, fists tight at his side.
“No,” she breathed, sliding his breeches down further.“I won’t.”
His breathing hitched.
Her heart pounded.
Her thumb caressed his hip bone with the faintest of touch, and his head fell back.
She felt invincible.
With no further suspense, she pushed his pants down, letting them drop to the floor.
He wasmagnificent.
He washuge.
Already hard, his cock twitched as she dragged her finger along the underside of it, relishing the way he pulsed under her touch.
Her breath hitched as she wrapped her fingers around him, the weight of him heavy, hot,realin her hand. He twitched again at her touch, and Lancelot groaned — quiet and guttural.
