His tongue nudged against her lips, requesting access, and Lory opened for him, tasting mint and spices as he swept it through her mouth in deft strokes. How she’d missed him, the closeness that was capable of stilling all thoughts in her mind.
Slowly, Lory let her hand wander down his chest, savoring the hard muscles beneath the soft fabric of his shirt. His abs… A ripple went through his body as she traced the lines with her fingers, crossing the belt holding together his waistcoat, while their mouths fused in a dondura Lory never wanted to end.
She’d thought of what it would feel like to be touched by him again, but the last time had been in a dream, and this—this was real. His strength was real, his warmth was real, and the rock-hard cock in his pants as she skimmed the waistband was real as well.
A deep groan rumbled in Khayrivven’s chest as Lory’s fingers slid over him, using enough pressure to make him twitch, and a chuckle promising the sweet pleasure of forbidden things skittered over her skin as he kissed his way along her jaw, her neck.
“I’ve dreamed about this moment, Lory,” he murmured against her collarbone. “You have no idea how many times I’ve dreamed of this or the many ways I’ve bedded you in my imagination.”
Scorching, liquid need pooled in Lory’s core at this admission, as one of his hands skimmed her cheek, her neck, down her chest, while the other tightened on the small of her back, pulling her closer rather than crushing her between his hips and the stone wall.
Tilting back her head to give him better access, Lory wrapped her arm around his neck, hands delving into his hair, savoring the silken texture of his waves, the stark contrast they formed with the hard lines of his body.
“I want you.” Lory didn’t care how needy she sounded or that she wasn’t supposed to want him at all. That this, right there, might have condemned them both, had Lenya foundout about it. Her heart beat to the pace of Khayrivven’s kisses, and her body molded into his touch like not doing so would mean ceasing to exist.
Khayrivven didn’t wait for her to repeat herself. With practiced ease, he gathered the side of her skirts with one hand while his mouth traced the bare peak of her breast where he tugged down the strap of her dress, exposing her aching flesh.
A gasp escaped her mouth as he sucked on her nipple, nipping lightly, and the fireworks of pleasure following the small pain multiplied between her legs as he slid his hand under the layers of satin, silk, and chiffon, sliding a finger through her wet folds and groaning his approval.
Slowly—so painstakingly slowly, he grazed her clit in lazy circles, as if they had all the time in the world and the court behind that hidden door didn’t exist, like they didn’t have a mission to accomplish or a family member to look out for. Nothing existed but Khayrivven’s touch, his kiss as he brought his mouth back to hers, thrusting his tongue into her mouth once in a demonstration of what he was planning on doing.
Yes, Lory near-shouted in her head, and wondered immediately if she had done so out loud when he pinned her hips with his free hand while he slid a finger into her and set a slow, hard pace—just like he’d once mentioned he liked.
Not enough. Desperate for him, Lory fumbled on the button of his pants, tugging like her life depended on it, but Khayrivven stilled his hand, clicking his tongue.
“Not today, little Flame. I’ll fuck you again soon, but today, I’ll make you come with my fingers.”
Lory whimpered as he remained still as a statue, waiting for her to remove her hands, a ruthless grin on his beautiful face that told her he meant every word. And when she dropped both arms to her sides, he let go of her hips, taking one of her hands and threading his fingers through hers as he pinned it beside her head.
Between her legs, his other hand started moving again, and he slid a second finger into her, curling the tips ever so slightly while, with his thumb, he rubbed over her clit.
“Come for me, Lory.” It was both a command and a plea. “I want to see that beautiful face light up with bliss.” He lowered his voice, murmuring close to her ear. “I want to feel you clench around my fingers.”
Lory’s core tightened as the first waves of pleasure hit her, but Khayrivven didn’t slow. He increased pace, drawing a moan from her lips as he kissed and licked his way down her throat back to her exposed breast.
“Just like that.” The hunger in his voice undid her, and she splintered around his fingers, grabbing his shoulder with her free hand and holding on to him as the floor seemed to tremble beneath her feet and the wall crumble behind her back.
For a moment, she was suspended in time, the points where Khayrivven touched her the only ones anchoring her. Then a rush of pleasure flooded her entire body, and what she had thought would be a small orgasm became a life-altering moment.
“I love you.” The words just tumbled out of her, breathless and unbidden, but Lory’s tongue wouldn’t obey when she tried to hold them back.
Khayrivven’s hand slowed, letting her ride out the last throes of pleasure before he stopped, sliding his fingers out of her and lowering her skirts, careful to use his clean hand. A grin lingered on his lips as he pulled her strap back up her shoulder, tugging the neckline of her dress into place, then studied her face. As he lifted his other hand between them, Lory wasn’t sure what to expect, but not him smelling the fingers shimmering wet from working her into pleasure. His grin turned wicked.
“When I’ll be close to forgetting myself with rage tonight, your scent will be what saves me.”
Before Lory could wonder if he hadn’t heard her little slip-up before or was ignoring her accidental declaration, the urgent melody of trumpets penetrated the cocoon of seclusion the room had spun around them, and Khayrivven’s grin slipped.
“It’s time.”
Fifteen
Lory
When Lory stepped backinto the ballroom, dread of what to expect had eradicated the lightness in her limbs and the warmth in her core, leaving behind the familiar tension coming with anticipating the need to bolt at any moment, while beside her, Khayrivven was the image of the amused nobleman there to be entertained, not a single crack in his armor.
“Look at the dais, but not directly at the king. You don’t want to draw his attention,” he murmured, lowering his head to her ear as if he were whispering sweet little nothings to her, his smileperfectly in place.
Lory did as he asked, taking in the gold and white of the figure occupying the throne in passing, her curious eyes flicking up to the king’s face only briefly, before marking the chairs left and right once more.
