Page 35 of The Curse and the Silver Rose

With a conflicted look in his eyes, he cradled her face with both of his hands. “You will sleep and I will watch over you. That’s all.” He went to the side of the bed and pulled back the covers. “Get in.”

She sighed and complied, settling into his luxurious emerald green bedding and many pillows. He disappeared into the bathroom and returned holding her silver rose. He climbed onto the bed and placed the rose under her pillow, on the other side of the bed to him.

“So you sleep more soundly,” he said.

“I do not think I will need it. But thank you.”

She eyed his large body as he reclined next to her. He lay close to her, but not touching her. He was erring on the side of caution, she realized.

“So much happened today,” he said. “You should sleep.”

“I know. I should.”

Without asking, she cuddled into him as he lay on his back, placing her head on his shoulder and his arm around her. His muscles tensed up and he seemed unsure how to react. She nestled in farther, relaxing her body against his, which caused him to exhale. By the end of his breath, some of the tension had left him.

His body was so large that Amelie’s neck began to ache from the angle. She adjusted herself, trying to get comfortable. In one fluid movement, Davron rolled onto his side, toward her, and drew her up into his arms, like a cocoon. His strong arms and legs supported her entire body.

“Better?” he asked.

“Yes. Thank you.”

It was better, too. She was comfortable enough to sleep. But also, now the front of her scantily-clad body was pressed against the front of his. With every breath, the warmth between them escalated. Amelie buried her face into his hard chest, and he let out an involuntary groan.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“Yes.”

His voice sounded pained and his body tensed up again.

“Am I bothering you?” asked Amelie. “I can move, if you like?”

“No.” He held her more firmly. “You are not bothering me.”

She snuggled closer. Then she felt it through his pants. His huge cock was steel-hard, engorged with blood. An aching desire tugged at her from within her core, where heat pooled and expanded. She wriggled even closer to him, pushing his growing hardness into her. The sensation caused the pool in her stomach to spill over and rapidly spread throughout her body.

Davron did not pull away, but he did not encourage her, either.

“Amelie,” he said. “We can not.”

She pressed herself against his bulge, making it throb. Davron let out another groan.

“Why not?” she asked, a note of pleading in her voice.

He put his hand under her chin and tilted it upward, so their eyes met. “It would hurt you.”

She knew what he meant, of course. His anatomy was undeniably enormous, and Amelie’s was not. The trouble was, she was so aroused she did not care. She thought the pain would only heighten the pleasure of the most secret part of him being inside the most secret part of her. She wanted it more than anything. It was an almost feverish desire, building by the moment, driven by repressed lust and the emotional highs and lows of the day.

“Go slow, then,” she said. “I want to try. Please.”

“Amelie, no.”

She sighed, trying to resist the temptation to whine.

“Alright.” She reached up and touched his face, making him swallow hard. Her fingertips ran as soft as a feather over his largest scar, coming to a stop on his lips. “Will you at least kiss me?”

“You don’t—” he said, closing his eyes as if it hurt to look at her.

She withdrew her hand. “What?”

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