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“I want to feast on your sweet cunt.”
“Seriously?”
“Would you like that, wife?”
“Yes,” I hiss through my teeth.
“I will taste the woman whose beauty will start a bitter war.”
Oh, fuck. He’s making me sound like Helen of Troy.
King Henry trails soft kisses over my ribs, each press of his lips making tiny bursts of pleasure. My shudders and moans increase with intensity as he reaches my belly.
I’ve never had anyone touch me there. I’ve never had anything but crystal dildos, enchanted rose petals, and my fingers.
Growing up in the room next door to Grandma’s kept me in a constant feeling of surveillance. When I turned eighteen and got my own place, I was too busy coping with my stalkers—Norbert and the Boogie Man.
King Henry’s hot, wet tongue sweeps into the dip of my belly button, making me moan.
I had no idea that part of me was so sensitive.
At this rate, I’m going to lose my virginity to a king who died eight hundred years ago.
ChapterTwenty-Four
ALIENOR
King Henry kisses and nips at my lower belly, setting every nerve in that area alight.
Bloody hell.
It’s really happening.
I’m going to get fucked by royalty. Would that make me a queen?
As the finger circling my entrance enters me up to the first knuckle, my mind goes blank.
“Oh,” I say with a breathy moan.
“You like that?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want more?”
“Please.”
He withdraws the finger, making me cry out with a protest, but as soon as he lines a second, I whimper.
“Please, Henry.”
“I never thought the former Queen of France would be so wet and wanton. Yet, here you are, quivering for my touch.”
His fingers enter me to the hilt, their blunt tips brushing against my cervix. I clench around the thick digits and moan.
“You’re so tight and slick,” he growls. “A perfect fit.”
He pumps his fingers in and out of my pussy, making me jerk against the movements.
