Her hair clung to sweaty skin, that infuriatingly sweet scent making my head spin. I wanted to burying my nose in her neck and taste her skin. "And a hardly common one." Her hand tightened on mine, squeezing her breast and it sent another pulse through me.
Guilt and betrayal curled in my stomach but a haze fell over me, so thick it wrestled against the feelings. In that split second of hesitation and indecision, she decided for me.
Fingers wrapped around my wrists, guiding them up and beneath the loose edge of her tunic until my palms met the heat of her skin. My breath caught. The contact was electric--a forbidden, dangerous spark that roared through my blood and shattered every last ounce of reason.
She rocked forward on my cock and I wrapped my arms around her, holding her in place. "Do not ever order me around again."
Her lips skimmed mine. "That I can’t promise."
And then, our lips collided. It was as filthy as the pleasure house, as brutal as our fight earlier. She was inexperienced, that much was obvious, and it should’ve been a turn off, but it was the hottest thing ever.
Her thighs clamped tightly around me, her rocking anything but rhythmic. My hands moved without thought, palms sliding beneath her tunic, skin against skin, heat meeting heat. She gasped against my mouth and my tongue delved in, sucking the alcohol of her tongue.
Fingers raked against my scalp, tugging me closer as my thumb finds her nipples hardened, breasts full and aching.
I flicked them, taunting, only to hiss sharply when the unruly roll of her hips sent sparks shooting through me, white-hot and merciless. She moved like she was trying to climb inside me, like she wanted to carve herself into my bones.
I had forgotten how this felt, the dizzying loss of control, the ache so sharp it bordered on pain. I had sworn I’d never let anyone do this to me again. My hips bucked, the friction barely enough. I needed to be inside her. I needed to know her warmth.
Her body trembled with urgency, snapping taut as she took my hand from her neck and guided to her ass with a smack that drew a diabolical moan from her.
Gods fucking help me.
Sweat broke on my skin. My cock twitched relentless and I felt it in my pants, like I was some green lad. Any more movement from her and I would fucking spill. For origınal chapters go to novel•fire.net
But every sigh that escaped her, every shiver that coursed through her body as she rocked against me, dragged me deeper into the spiral.
And the world narrowed to the press of her body, the heat between us, the pebbling of her nipples with each flick, each caress, the relentless friction that drove us both closer to the edge.
Her teeth sank deep into my bottom lip as she cried out, body jerking in a spasm. Her hips began undulating.
"Don’t do that," I rasp, trying to pry her away, but she clung tight, rolling her hips in a manner that felt dangerously close to having my cock in her heat.
She cried out again, hand pulling harshly on my hair as she rode off her orgasm, my lips taking the sound of the moan that was unmistakably, Luke.
My breath hitched, a low, broken sound catching in my throat as the pressure coiled and snapped. The moment detonated, a shudder tearing through me, sharp and involuntary, my body betraying me utterly as I spilled against her with a groan that shook me to my core.
She stilled then. Her lips hovered just above mine, panting as harshly as I was. She lowered her nose to my neck, teeth grazing my pulse. She whispered something I didn’t quite catch, and then, she bit me.
She did not have fangs, but she pierced my skin all the same. My fist tightens on her ass, clenching as she sucked slowly, running her tongue over me in a disturbingly possessive fashion, a strange, content purr rumbling in her chest.
And then, she pulled away. It was humbling. I’d never had a woman pull away from me before like that. Her eyes were distant, almost detached. Her expression schooled into nonchalance.
It was new. Almost humiliating as she climbed off me and grabbed her cloak off the floor.
I shot to my feet. "And where do you think you’re going?"
She clasped the cloak around her neck. "Home. It was nice doing business with you."
And then, she tipped me four bloody coins. Four. Four? She thought I was worth four coins? They weren’t even gold. They were bronze.
Rage prickled under my skin and I caught her wrist, yanking her back."You humiliate me. You insult me. Do you have any idea what I do to people like you?"
She turned to face, light on her feet. "You like me. You are not going to kill me."
"That is a fucking stretch--"
Her lips pinched like I was being dramatic. Me. Lucien. King of Ebonheart. Dramatic over a woman who made him cum in his pants.
"This won’t do," she said, and proceeded to cups my cheeks, tugging my head down to her eye level. Something ancient and electric crackled between us--and then, her eyes darkened, pupils swallowing the gold until nothing black remained.
It felt like a wet blanket fell over my senses.
"We will meet again," she whispered, and her voice becomes a sweet thrall, a tune I never wanted to stop listening to. "But until then... you will forget this night. You will forget me. You will go home, and you will sleep. And when you wake, you will remember nothing of me, our fight, or what we have done here."
Her words sank into me like hooks, burrowing deep. My thoughts clouded, my limbs went heavy, the edges of my memory already dissolving. I understood then, what she was doing. I tried to fight it--gods, I tried--but it was useless.
"Your name," I rasped, breathless. "Tell me your name."
She smiled softly. "You won’t remember it, but if you must know... I am Lyra."
The last thing I saw was her hand reaching for the pouch of gold at my belt, the fucking thief.