Page 172 of Blood Curse

“I like your name.”

“Bryony.”

“The woman I want in my rooms, in her flat and anywhere else she chooses.”

Heat tightened low in my stomach.

I kissed his split lip carefully. Stellan held still for the first touch. The second kiss deepened. His mouth opened over mine, and the taste of his blood touched my tongue.

The Crown didn’t stir.

Stellan took the cloth from the basin, wiped his mouth once and threw it onto the table. Then he kissed me without protecting the cut.

Fuck, I wanted him.

I opened his shirt while he walked me backwards. His palms slid under my clothes and over my ribs, warm enough to chase the chill from my skin. When the backs of my knees met the bed, he stopped.

His gaze moved to the Crown.

I pulled my shirt over my head and lay back, arranging my hair so the black points rested clear of the pillows. Stellan watched the choice, then stripped off his shirt.

The room had spent too many nights holding fear. I wanted it to remember this instead.

He bent over me and kissed the middle of my chest. My heartbeat knocked against his mouth. It was uneven, human and mine.

“Still here,” I murmured.

“I hear you.”

His mouth moved over one breast. He drew my nipple between his lips while his hand opened my trousers. I lifted my hips, and he pulled the fabric away with my underwear.

Stellan’s gaze travelled down my body. Hunger darkened his eyes, but it wasn’t the wild need the Crown had forced into the Night Hall.

This belonged to him.

He kissed my stomach, pushed my thighs apart and settled between them. The first slow stroke of his tongue over my clit made my back lift from the mattress.

“Fuck.”

His hands tightened around my thighs. He licked me again, firmer this time, then pushed two fingers inside me while his tongue kept a steady rhythm.

Pleasure crowded out the waiting silence. I caught the bedcover in one hand and buried the other in his hair. Stellan curled his fingers. The pressure found exactly where I needed it.

My hips moved against his mouth. He followed without making me ask, drawing every broken sound from me until the tension snapped.

I came with his name in my mouth and his fingers deep inside me.

Stellan slowed, kissed the inside of my thigh and rose over me. His trousers were open. His cock pressed hard against my wet skin.

I touched the pulse in my throat, then held his gaze.

His whole body went still.

“You fed downstairs,” I said.

“I did.”

“So this isn’t hunger.”