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My boots had been abandoned in the carriage, and I was now dressed only in a thin slip.
And then Asterion was unbuttoning the placket of his pants, and it was too dark to see his cock properly, and I was too exhausted to reach for him.Finally, I thought, but my body stiffened in expectation, stretched and splayed.
He didn't lift my skirt, didn't bare my sex to his eyes and cock. He didn't use his weight to pin me down, but his hips sank beautifully against mine, the fine silk a kiss of a barrier between us.
And when he surged, I moaned, my eyes falling shut and muscles surrendering gratefully. He ground his cock into my sex, groaned with me at the friction, at how quickly the silk grew damp and clung to our skin. His lips pressed to my forehead and I reached up to his waist, guided him closer, noted how the tip of his cock pooled slippery heat onto my belly.
My body would strain to take him, the massive length and girth of his monstrous cock, although my mother's gifts offered strange secrets in that regard. My thighs burned as they stretched to cradle his hips, and Asterion's panting breaths fluffed my hair as he mimed the act of sex through our delicate barrier. The pressure was beautiful, and the restraint left me loose and easy, soft and receiving to his nudges and bucks.
And every breath was thick withnéktar. I gulped the air, gasped for more, breaths sawing in our silent union.
I kissed Asterion's throat, sucked his skin, and reveled in the wave of pleasure. A dense weight of warm flesh was pressing between my thighs, against the cheeks of my ass, and it swelled and tightened. His balls, I realized, and he was growing close to his finish. I wanted to say sweet things to him, tease him, slide the silk away and guide him to my opening.
But he was right. Marius was right, too. There were still pricks of fear, open scratches on my heart. And this gift was a bucket of clean crystalline cool water after lifetimes of a burning parched throat in the desert. It was enough for now, and it was only a drop in the deeply drained well of my strength.
Asterion's arms slid beneath my limp back, embracing and clasping me to him, a ragged set of grunts falling from his lips, and an urgent spike ofnéktarjabbing into me and making me cry out with shocked joy.
Asterion bellowed, and he spilled over my belly and chest, soaked the slip and my skin and still further down to the quilt. The hot release bled up to my breasts, kissing at my peaked nipples, and his motions stuttered and trembled and quaked above me, his weight pressing down.
I'd always met Birsha's clients' releases with them, could not prevent myself, and every moment had been a personal betrayal, my mother's gift transformed to a curse.
This was not. It was relief. I might not have met my own finish without Asterion, too tired and too lost in my head, but he threw us there together, and I wept and clutched his back and went spinning into the oblivion with a terrified gratitude.
The power was startling and incredible, not a bucket but a flood, my breath stolen as my hunger from so many years caved under the pressure of our shared pleasure, earnest and delighted for one another. Shy too, a bashful profanity.
My mouth latched to Asterion's throat, my cries muffled, the spill of his release sticking the slip to my skin, to his still clothed chest as I once again tried to find my way inside of this man.
The room swayed and another wave ofnéktarstruck at me hard, dizzying my head, proving I was not sated—I needed more. I squirmed in Asterion's hold, tore the skirt of the slip, and we both moaned as flesh kissed. And again, his strength rushed at me, filling me, feeding me.
And this time, I could not withstand its force. I'd been starved and then feasted. My blood was heavy and drunk with fresh energy, and it swam unevenly in my veins. I swooned into nothing, into Asterion's arms perhaps, although I'd hardly left them, and soft lips brushed my forehead as I sank back into the slumber I'd barely risen from.
* * *
My eyes weredry when I woke again, and my flesh felt strange, almost swollen. I was heavy, as if my bones had been filled with lead. I was naked, tucked under sheets and the quilt, and I knew without looking that I was alone. Asterion was not in the bed, not in the room, and I wondered for a moment if he had ever been, or if I'd imagined the exquisite yet wordless experience in the haze of my slumber.
But as I sat up, I knew the truth—I felt wonderful. Bleary from sleep, but brighter, cleaner, fuller. I brushed a hand over my cheek and my skin was smoother. My fingers trailed down and found my lips less withered.
There was a savory, meaty fragrance in the air, and I rubbed at my face, waking my eyes, and searched the room. It was large, and the view out the window was of the long, green roll of the woods beyond the castle walls. It was not quite as cluttered as the hall we'd entered, but still full of the odd arrangements and decorations and mismatch of styles. The bed was broad, and the quilt spread over me was actually four separate pieces stitched together. The floor was layered with carpets from one rounded wall by the window to the squared one at the door. A small table was set with lidded plates of food, and a large copper basin waited with steaming water by a small fire in the fireplace.
Asterion was missing. My dress was lying over a chair, but I knew at a glance that the chemise folded and waiting with it was not the one he had soaked with his release. My mouth watered at the recollection, and the salty, musky taste of his skin was refreshed on my tongue.
For the first time in a long time, the hunger that hounded me most was physical, my stomach growling. My limbs were clumsy and stiff as I slid off the mattress, moving to the soft chemise, and I found a thick robe and a pair of velvet slippers waiting in the pile.
I touched my belly and imagined the heavy press of Asterion's cock there. My skin was slightly sticky, but I thought he might've tried to wipe me clean when he'd tucked me in. I had a vague memory his hands stroking over my body for a long time. I wanted to find the minotaur, drag him back into this dreamy, strange quiet, and learn the flavor of his cock, of the pleasure he might find on my tongue. But food and a real bath would suit the flesh and bone part of me first. I would attend to one hunger, and then the other.
CHAPTER7
THE KING OF DREAMS
There was a wardrobe in the bedroom, full of strange assortments of clothing, and while I found old boned corsets and stiff cotton stays, there was nothing that matched the garments from the trunks still with the carriage. Instead I found a long, loose, black velvet gown and a quilted red vest.
Fed, scrubbed clean in water that never grew any foggier, no matter the dust and grime from the road it cleaned from me, and fully dressed, I helped myself to wandering the castle.
I expected to find servants cleaning rooms or coming and going—surely someone other than Asterion had attended to my food and bath—but at most, I might've seen their shadows passing out of the corners of my eyes. The tower I'd slept in led down to a squared balcony that overlooked a broad hall, flags and tapestries and weapons and art dressing every wall. I paused, listening for male voices, and heard none. This castle was even quieter than Grace House and oddly empty, in spite of all the varied decoration. I circled the balcony, peered inside of neglected bedrooms and sitting rooms, offices where books stacked wildly over shelves and tables and carpeted floors, and even a small antechamber where all the instruments and chairs were arranged as if a band might suddenly appear to play music for a crowd waiting below. But all was silent.
I followed the narrow, twisting staircase down to the main floor, the slippers silent over patchworked carpets, and held my breath, waiting for some sign of life. Was I alone now in this castle? Had I slept for years and years in all my exhaustion and found myself the sole occupant?
I paused at the center of the open room, closed my eyes, and wondered at the pinch of loneliness that squeezed my heart, and also the rare lightness in my shoulders.
