Then his hands move to the hem of my tunic, slow enough that I feel every inch of cool air that follows, the anticipation becomes its own insatiable. He pulls it over my head, and admires me, my body — candlelight on bare skin, the arch of my collarbone, the curve of my breasts — and that gaze does something to my heartbeat.
His mouth travels to my collarbone, outward along the line of it. I can feel my pussy getting wetter as he moves. He takes his time across my breasts and then he puts his tongue on one nipple. I make a sound I did not plan on, and my fingers go into his white hair and hold on.
He works around my nipple gently, until I am pulling at him and my hips are moving against nothing. The sensation between my thighs has become something I can't ignore. I want it, I want him. I reach for the fastenings at his shoulder. The hunting leathers are knotted in ways I don't understand, and my frustration rises fast enough that he exhales against me with something that is almost amusement.
"Here," he whispers.
His hands close and guide mine. It loosens, and underneath is smooth skin, hard muscle and scars mapping him in lines I have been wanting to trace. I brush one with my fingertip. Hiswhole body pauses for a moment. I look to him fast enough to catch it — pleasure.
He grabs my ass, lifting me onto the table in one flow, steps between my legs, and suddenly we are level, and I can feel his pulsating cock against my pussy.
"I have wanted to touch you, since the forest." He admits.
I reach between us and press my palm flat against the front of his trousers, feeling the thick, hard ridge of his cock straining against the fabric. The sound he makes is immediate and it does something irreversible to my ability to think clearly. I work the lacing open.
His cock is heavy, hot, and larger than I was accounting for, but I wrap my fingers around him and pull slowly, base to tip, watching his jaw lock and his eyes go somewhere. I tighten my grip as his hand finds my hair, and he pulls so my eyes meet his.
"You are going to be the end of me," he confesses.
"I know."
He reaches for the remaining fabric between us and removes it — not roughly — until there is nothing left. I have not been this bare in front of anyone in a very long time.
He releases my hand, and drops to his knees. His mouth finds the inside of my thigh and moves inward — slowly dragging across my skin, teeth grazing once, and pressing my thighs wider when I try to close them. No effort goes into him holding them open, he keeps going until his mouth finally finds the soaking wet center and I stop being coherent.
His tongue moves as he reads each sound I make, each involuntary rock of my hips, adjusting until he has found the rhythm that makes my fingers tighten and my thighs shake. He moves it flat and slow against my clit and then flicking, repeatedly, until the pressure builds into something I can't manage or moderate.
I know the explosion is coming. "Draekir. Please. Faster."
He listens and I come apart, the moan is loud enough that I am grateful for the thickness of the walls. I'm pulsating, and I want him to be inside me. I want it again.
He rises and I pull him toward me before he can straighten. He pushes inside slow — steady and deep, watching me the whole time — and I feel every inch of him in stages, the stretch of his cock fills me as I exhale hard.
He is big enough that I have to adjust. His cock drives deep, long strokes that I feel the full length and girth of, and the pace builds. I stop caring about anything other than the angle he has found. His hands grip my hips hard enough to leave bruises, and he pulls me in as he thrusts deeper and deeper. I have given up entirely on keeping quiet.
"Look at me," he requests.
I do. I am the only fact in his world right now. The possessiveness of it should unsettle me, but it doesn't.
He turns us, shifting the angle and pushes back inside me. I grab the shelf above with my hands and hold on. His thumb finds my clit and works it in tight, steady circles while he fucks me, and the combination is ruthlessly effective — within minutes I am shaking.
Both of us are completely past the point of managing anything. His breathing has broken. One hand presses flat beside me. I think he's about to come.
We gaze into each other's eyes, and something rumbles inside me — it's magnetic. I'm going to come a second time. He knows it too. He thrusts deeper, untangling me. I can't control my hips, as he pins me down. The gasp that fills the silence undoes him, I feel the come squirt all over him, and his cock expanding as we both come together.
He falls to my side, keeping one arm around me, and I'm unsure whether I should get up. He curls his arm so I cansnuggle into him while he grabs the coat and places it over us. His heartbeat is returning to steady, and I just listen to it.
The high window shows the dark beginning to thin at its edges. The information we found lies where we left it. Still open to page forty-two. Still waiting.
We will unravel it together with Nyssara and begin taking it apart properly. In the morning.
12
DRAEKIR
She's warm. That's the first thing I take in — not the light, or the dullness across my shoulders. Her warmth. She's curled against my side with one hand loose across me. I don't move.
The window shows a pale, colorless light — early morning, before the household has begun. The door has presumably unsealed itself. The folio lies on the table, face-down. I glance at her relaxed body.
