Page 52 of When Kings Rise

“Is this okay?” he asks as his fingers touch my bare skin.

I nod.

He continues until he touches my panties, damp with a need that both shocks me and has me leaning in closer to his hand.

“Can I taste you?”

I glance at the balcony that gave us a view of the stage. It’s now blocked with the red, heavy drapes. People still talk below us, but I know no one can see.

I nod again.

Diarmuid sits back down in my chair and pulls up my dress. He’s kneeling at my feet, his gaze fixed on my face for a moment before he bends over. Pulling my panties aside, he gives his tongue access to my folds and parts them.

I hiss with pure pleasure. He’s done this before, but being alone makes it feel different, more intimate.

He laps at my folds, and my body threatens to release the build-up that’s quickly gathering inside me, but Diarmuid’s licking turns to kisses that he continues pressing the whole way down my leg. Each kiss feels like he’s branding ownership into my flesh. He lifts my leg and slips off my high heel. He watches me as he places kisses along the inside of my foot.

“What do you want, Niamh?” His voice is husky with his own desire.

I know what I want. I'm just not sure I’m brave enough to say it, but as I glance around the dimly lit box, I know it’s now or never.

“I want you to take me,” I say.

He nods and rises to his feet, holding out his hands. I take them as he pulls me to my feet. He spins me and pulls me into his chest. Kisses are placed along my neck, and the sound of the crowd below turns to a soft buzz as I’m consumed by his roaming hands across my torso and the kisses he continues to place along my neck. He gathers the fabric of my dress again until he’s holding it securely around my waist. His lips touch my ear. “Hold onto the chair and bend over,” he whispers and kisses my ear again.

I grip the velvet of the back of the chair and arch my ass into him. I take over, holding up my dress. Warmth rushes to my checks as I hear his zipper, belt, and then the shuffle of the material of his trousers.

His fingers prod between my legs, and my eyes flutter closed at the contact. It’s only for a moment before he removes them, and a larger, meatier body part is placed at my opening. He pushes himself into me slowly, stretching me, filling me up. It burns slightly, just like the last time. One hand grips my hip while the other runs up and down my spine in a soothing movement, and then he withdraws slightly before pushing into me again. This time, the burn is less. My core squeezes around his cock, and I find myself pushing further into him.

“You are perfect,” he whispers. His voice sounds strained, like he’s struggling to hold this steady flow of in and out. He’s being careful with me, knowing I’m a virgin, and that makes my stomach tighten with appreciation and need.

He moves inside me again and pulls out; he keeps this steady rhythm as he runs his fingers up and down my spine.

I keep my hold on my dress that’s gripping the chair, and with my other hand, I reach down and touch my clit. The contact sends a new thrill through me, and I gasp as more sensations seem to override everything else.

I don’t know how he senses my need, but he starts to move faster, in and out of me. I’m so close to coming my body screams for release. I turn just enough to meet Diarmuid’s gaze. I don’t know what he sees, but he starts to move faster, and I turn back, working my clit. The climax is like the final scene of the ballet, and I’m falling, calling out as the lights shatter behind my eyes, and I come fast and hard.

When I open my eyes, I’m panting, a light sprinkle of sweat on my forehead.

“Oh, fuck.” I manage to say between dry lips.

A half-snort laugh from Diarmuid, has me apologizing.

“Please don’t apologize,” he says, removing himself from me andfixes my dress into place. I take a moment to gather some courage to face him, and when I stand straight, Diarmuid is dressed and holding my shoe in his hand.

He smiles happily at me as he kneels down and helps me place my foot into the shoe. It’s a real Cinderella moment as my prince rises.

“Did you…” I trail off, I’m wondering if he came.

“No,” he confesses and takes my face in his hands. “But we will have plenty of time for that.”

I nod, slightly disappointed.

“It was perfect.” His kind words chase my worries away.

“I’d better get back to my parents. I’m sure they are wondering where I got to.” It’s a half-truth; I doubt they even noticed my disappearance.

But Diarmuid places a kiss on my forehead. “Okay.”

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