Her throat was tight with anticipation as she leaned back, her body already yielding to him in ways she couldn’t control. He made her feel it—his Alpha presence, the quiet command in every movement, the way he stripped away her barriers without force.
Kneeling before her, Kaelen slid his hands beneath the hem of her skirt, gathering the fabric at her waist. His palms smoothed a slow, possessive path from her knees to her thighs, the warmth of his touch sinking into her skin. She gasped, her teasing forgotten in the wake of his touch, her body attuned to him in the ways that made her ache.
He glanced up, his golden eyes dark.
“You’re trembling,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “You feel the pull, don’t you? The way your body already knows who it belongs to.”
Reiya shuddered at his words, thighs pressing together instinctively, but Kaelen’s hands kept them apart.
She nodded, unable to speak.
His lips curved, slow and knowing. “Good.”
His knuckles grazed the soft curve of her hip before trailing lower, deliberately brushing just shy of where she needed him most. Anticipation wound tight in her belly as his hands smoothed down her thighs, coaxing her knees to bend. He pushed them up, spreading her open beneath him, her soles pressing against the seat.
A wicked smirk tugged at his lips as he unapologetically surveyed her—open, slick, dripping, and utterly his.
“Gods, look at you,” he murmured, dragging the backs of his knuckles down her trembling thigh. “A sight worthy of a king. Or in this case . . . two.”
Then, with maddening patience, his fingers slipped between her folds, stroking with deliberate precision.
Reiya gasped, her hips jerking instinctively, and Kaelen chuckled against her throat. “Easy, love,” he murmured, his voice thick with amusement. “I’m just getting my bearings.”
His touch circled lazily, teasing, testing, until?—
“There it is,” he murmured, pressing just right. “I’ve found it. The ‘Pearl of Aethonia.’”
She choked on a moan, mortified, her entire body flaming. “Kaelen?—”
But his teasing gaze was relentless, wicked delight dancing in his golden eyes. “What? It’s a national treasure, isn’t it?”
Her protest dissolved into a sharp gasp as he pinched it between his thumb and forefinger, sending a bolt of pleasure shooting through her limbs.
“Gods,” she cried out, pressing her burning face into his shoulder, and he only laughed—low, satisfied, entirely unrepentant.
She refused to let him have the last word. With a breathless growl, she fisted his tunic and yanked him down, capturing his smirk with her lips. The laughter faded instantly, swallowed by a deep, needy kiss—one that stole the very air from his lungs.
He groaned against her mouth, his amusement melting into hunger as he pressed closer, his hand sliding up to cup the curve of her waist, his fingers splaying possessively. The teasing edge was gone now, replaced by something darker, more demanding.
She arched into him, a soft gasp catching in her throat as her fingers sank into his hair. She felt the last flicker of smugness unravel in him—lost to the way she moved against him, to the way she opened to him so easily, as though there had never been a doubt.
His lips trailed from her mouth to her jaw, then lower, his breath hot against her skin. “Alright, love,” he murmured, his voice rough with restraint, “no more teasing.”
He bent down. The first touch of his mouth on her core sent a jolt of pure sensation through her. She gasped, hands flying to his hair, tangling in the golden strands as he tasted her with a slow, deliberate stroke of his tongue.
His tongue flicked and circled her sensitive bud, dragging down to explore the length of her seam, learning her, savouring her. His movements were precise, not hurried. He was taking his time, mapping her responses—every moan, every tremor, every gasp.
“Kaelen . . .” Her voice was no more than a plea, her fingers tightening in his hair as her hips tilted toward him.
He growled softly, the vibration sending another sharp shudder through her. His hands gripped her thighs, keeping her open as he deepened his kiss, tongue and lips working her with devastating precision.
“You’re so responsive,” he praised, his breath hot against her. “What a treasure you are.”
Reiya whimpered, desire coiling tight as he closed his lips on her swollen bud and sucked, the sensation exquisite, unbearable. She tried to move, to undulate her hips and chase the pleasure, but his firm grip kept her in place.
“Patience,” he chided, though amusement laced his voice. “Let me guide you.”
She shivered at the words, her entire body quivering as he alternated between slow, languid strokes and firmer, more insistent pressure, keeping her right at the edge—until she thought she’d go mad from it.
