AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The sound of our voices together, chorusing with the impact and pound of skin, wasnéktar. Conall's heartbeat racing under my palm wasnéktar. The heat of him inside of me, the sharp stretch, wasnéktar.
I'd survived on other people's pleasure, and I'd forgotten how powerful my own was. I swooped my hips, pressed my clit into Conall's body, pulled one of his hands up to my own breast, and chased every drop of thick, sweet ecstasy that fed me.
"You're exquisite," Conall gritted out, his feet bracing against the ground so he could buck up, follow my retreat. "Pretty, wild beast, clawing for more."
My hands scratched his chest, my head thrown back and eyes tipped blindly to the sky. Conall howled, his grip tightening, saving my tired body from the effort and using his strength to fuck us both. He pulled hard on my nipple, tugging me closer, and scrunched in on himself, snarling lips wet and begging for my tit.
I arched and gave myself to his mouth, moaning and rocking, grinding, divinely lost to sensation. The grass and wildflowers swayed with us, bowed as I moaned, brushed my shoulders and thighs. Conall's hair was silk in my grip, twining around my fists as I steered him to my other breast, immediately mourning the loss of the first, crying out with the victory of the tugging pull between my thighs.
"More,harder," I pleaded, scratching down his spine.
He turned us, not pressing me down with his weight but twisting us in a tangle together, drawing one of my thighs high around his waist. His knot pressed to my opening, but he didn't force his way in, and I flinched at the thought of asking him to. I wanted this, the motion of him driving into me, the teasing tip of his cock licking me from inside as he drew out.
We rutted and rolled, wrestling to get closer, kissing with savage strokes and bites when there was nowhere further to go. Grass cut my skin, claws marked my hips, and Conall gasped into my mouth.
He threw me down to the ground, reared high, and reached between us, pinching one nipple and rubbing at my clit, and I was already screaming before I realized his intention. I came, clutching his cock, my first honest orgasm in centuries, stunned and almost frightened by the force, by the taste of my own relief.
And then Conall was pressed to me, chest to chest, hip to hip, even our ankles tangled, and he groaned into my ear as he snapped his hips and bucked through his release, the pleasure more familiar to me from an outside source. Our arms grappled around each other, squeezing tight enough to steal our breath.
Conall's kiss was tentative, his cock still spurting, hips jerking, even as he pecked and pressed and nuzzled his mouth to mine. I sucked on his bottom lip, soothed my hand through his hair, and he shivered to a stop, sagging on top of me, turning us to our sides again.
The grass around us was trampled, a smooth, hard bed beneath our unraveling bodies while we caught our breath. More kisses came, brief, sweet creatures after the frenzy, apologies and reassurance, mutually given. I gripped at Conall's shoulder blades as he started to pull away, and he pressed a slow line across my shoulder with his mouth.
"A feast,mo chroí," he whispered. "I'm not done yet."
I let him go, and his mouth slithered down my chest, savoring my breasts until I whimpered, licking down my belly, returning slowly to the place I'd pushed him before. He kissed across my hips, and I gathered his hair gently in my hands, closed my eyes, and let the sun burn my cheeks.
"What do I smell like with you on my skin?" I murmured.
"The same, but better," Conall rasped, and then his mouth served itself between my thighs, my body too sated to do more than enjoy his patient kisses.
CHAPTER10
THE DREAMERS' BALL
Candlelight flickered, a halo around my face reflected in the mirror. My lips were painted red, cheeks stained to force color back into my skin. The papered walls behind me were crumbling, soot and smoke caressing the ceiling, crawling ever closer. Nibbling orange fire wove and snapped, working its way down the walls.
My fingers pressed to my face, forcing my cheeks to swell, my lips to stretch, trying to remember the shape of a smile. The burning room was dressed in crystal and velvet, worn carpets, and silk drapes. I did not want to go back to the cell, and so I must learn to smile.
My teeth shone in the mirror and my painted lips cracked, a coppery flavor of blood seeping slowly to my tongue. My eyes stung. The room was on fire, but I must sit and smile. A client would come.
My cheeks hurt. My jaw ground. My eyes were dripping tears from the smoke. My lip was bleeding, the red a good match for the paint it wore.
Smile. A client would come. If I smiled, I could stay in this room.
Fire ate down the walls. Smoke flooded and swirled over my head. My face burnt with the effort, and the expression in the mirror was horror, too much gum, too many tears.
Smile wide, smile bright.
Better here than down in the dark. Better burning cheeks and cracking teeth and bleeding lips.
I tipped my head, tried to force a sound from the frozen face in the mirror, a tinkling laugh. But it was the crackle of wallpaper crumbling, plaster splitting, ash raining down to hiss against my tear tracks.
Smile, Evanthia.
I sat up from the nightmare, sucking down lungfuls of clean, sharp air, my window open to the sound of birds. My cheeks were sore, my lip pulled strangely, and a whine escaped me as I slapped my hands to my face, pushing away the grimacing smile that stared back at me in horror in the small mirror across the room. I flattened my hands over my face and screamed into my palms, teeth clenched, body trembling.
The soft creak of the door opening was buried under my cry. My fingernails dug into my forehead and temples, clawed hands fighting the sudden violent urge to peel this face away, tear away the smile I'd worn to try and placate Birsha and the beasts he hired to keep us in line.
