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He narrows his eyes and puts down the fork in favor of pulling out the orange from his pocket. He holds it out to me. “How are the winters in Kilseleia?” he asks.
“Mild.”
“I imagine. So you can still get fresh produce in the winter?”
I nod. “In the palace, we used to have everything all the time, no matter the season.”
Seith nods and halves the orange. He peels one half as he talks, his claws digging between the skin and the soft part. Some of the juice spills onto his fingers, and he looks up as he licks them.
Again, I flush, but this time, I’m so hot that I throw off the blanket I slung over my shoulders while in the rocking chair.
He offers me a piece of the orange.
Saliva slips out of the corners of my mouth, but I shake my head.
“We aren’t as lucky with regards to living in abundance. Particularly not in the winter when the ground is frozen, so this orange you will consume is special, rare, and must be savored, enjoyed.”
I have a feeling he’s not talking about an orange.
Seith brings the unpeeled half of the orange to his mouth and sticks out his long thick tongue and licks across it.
Moisture gathers between my legs.
Seith licks the halved orange for a while, never taking his eyes off me, and I’m wetting my underpants, my breasts becoming sensitive and heavy. His nostrils flare, and I know he can smell my arousal, so I close my knees together and shift uncomfortably on the couch.
He presses the orange to his mouth and starts rubbing the entire bottom of his face in it, stuffing his face with it. He’s eating, moaning at the taste, his eyes sparkling.
Palms up, I place my hands on my thighs in a universal gesture of submission. The moment I realize what I’ve done in a moment of weakness, I fist my hands. But he saw my submission and my wish that he would take me under his hand. He saw it and so he lifts the orange away from his mouth and above his face and then tilts his head back, exposing his thick corded neck with laryngeal protrusion.
He opens his mouth and squeezes the orange, allowing the juices to trickle over his tongue and down his throat, laryngeal protrusion bobbing as he swallows. Once done, he puts the tortured orange half back on the tray. Between his forefinger and the thumb, he picks up the piece from the peeled half and offers it to me.
“Wha…” I swallow, willing my brain to return from the primal state it visited during Seith’s orange act. “What happens if I refuse everyone?”
“I’ll hunt down the young alpha who killed my enforcer.”
“And let me go?”
He shakes his head.
“I’m doomed if I do and I’m doomed if I don’t.”
He purses his plush lips. “Marybell, you will enjoy the time you spend with me in your heat. I promise.”
That’s kind of what I’m afraid of. That I’ll enjoy it. Not just the heat. I’ve already enjoyed the time I’ve gotten to spend alone in his cabin, removed and away from duties, and I’m afraid that if I get to know the alpha jerk, I’ll stop hating him for taking me away from Gloriana and start enjoying him very much.
“Me sweet pup,” he says, leaning in and sniffing, “your body knows what it wants but up here”—he taps my forehead—“you won’t let it have what it wants.”
“What’s it want?”
“Me tongue.” Seith brushes his clean-shaven cheek against mine, and the scent of forest as well as fresh orange excites my senses. I lift a hand and touch the side of his face.
Seith freezes, but only briefly, then he touches his lips to my neck, pressing them at the spot right behind my ear.
I shiver.
He whispers, “I can smell how wet you are, sweet pup. And you must know that your refusal turns me on.” He takes my wrist and puts my hand over his groin so I can feel the hardness. “Do you feel how hard you make me, hm?” Over his pants, he forces my fingers to close on his dick.
He’s big. Monstrous.
