Page 3 of A Broken Throne of Bronze

I step closer. “Good.”

He runs his hands up and down my body, sending tingles scattering across my waist. My clothing dulls the sensation, but it’s still enough to awaken my desire. Pressing my palms to his chest, I do the same to him, dragging my hands down his torso in slow, lazy strokes. Even under the pads of my fingers, his skin is noticeably hot. All it does is make me want him to touch me everywhere.

He lets out a breath, mouth parted. I can feel his muscles loosen beneath me.

Loren moves his hand to my shoulder, poised to pull my dress down. He waits for a moment, but when I don’t tell him to stop, he tugs it down, exposing my skin to the night.

I watch him, my breaths becoming quicker.

Loren pulls my dress down more, his hands tugging at both sleeves now.

The dress falls over my leather corset, and more of my skin is kissed by the cool air.

Loren’s hands roam back up my torso, then cup my breasts over my corset. He dips his head down and kisses me, his lips soft and inviting. Then his tongue slips into my mouth, claiming it for his own. He breaks from the kiss, only to drag his mouth, his tongue, down my neck.

I shiver, my hands grabbing at his arms. I need his skin on mine. Now.

“Untie it,” I say, my voice lacking its usual strength. “Please.”

With a wicked look in his eyes that sends heat thrumming through my body, Loren obliges me. Still sucking at my neck, he makes quick work of my corset and lets it fall to the wooden floor. His hands cup my breasts again, this time lightly squeezing. Teasing. He traces burning circles around them, before brushing his thumbs back and forth across my nipples.

My eyes flutter, and I gasp.

The sound has Loren picking me up with a low growl escaping his throat. He lays me down onto the hay and kneels before me. He wraps his fingers around my legs, just above my ankles, and gradually moves them upward, pushing my skirts up as he does. With my skirts pooled around my hips, Loren drags his hands back down my thighs until they reach my knees. Then, he parts my legs until they’re open wide.

My body tingles everywhere he touches my skin, burning, aching for more.

I have no doubt I’m gleaming with wetness.

Loren’s eyes darken, drinking me in. His hands go lower, between my legs, and his fingers hover just above my most sensitive spot. He’s barely touching me, but it’s enough to make my hips buck upward. When his skin touches me there, I open my mouth, letting out a soft moan.

Loren looks at me like he wants to devour me.

“Tell me what you want, Cryssa.” My name on his tongue sounds like a prayer. A plea. “Tell me how you want me to please you.”

“Your mouth,” I pant. “I want you to use your mouth.”

Loren’s lips curve upward. “With pleasure.”

He sinks lower, and I lift myself up onto my elbows to watch him.

His dark eyes never part from mine, even as he lowers his mouth to my sex. The sight of him with his head between my legs has me balling my fists, as if that could contain the sensations his tongue has rippling through me.

He licks me, slowly dragging his tongue upward. My back arches, and the motion rubs my tender mound against his tongue again.

My hands find Loren’s head, grabbing fistfuls of those thick curls.

Slowly, he continues to torture me with his mouth.

“Loren,” I pant. “More.”

Loren doesn’t fight me. He quickens his pace, sucking my sex and lapping his tongue at my wetness. While he does, he slips a finger inside me, drawing a moan from my lips. Then he pulls his finger out, before plunging two into me the next time.

Loren’s fingers stroke me from the inside, while his mouth sets me ablaze.

My shallow breaths quicken, turning into fervent whimpers and moans.

Loren maintains his pace, fingers steadily coaxing me to climax.

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