Page 81 of Kingmakers, Year Four

“Oh, it does.” I nod. “It’s lovely. It’s more her skin tone—I get a little color in the summer, but come winter I’m pale as a ghost. She looks the same as when school started.”

Ares is quiet a minute, then he says, “You really do notice everything.”

I laugh. “And yet I can’t remember a single thing I learned in my banking class.”

Ares picks up his backpack from the nearest table, slinging it over his shoulder.

“So what did you really come here for?” he asks me. “I know you’re not here to study.”

I aim a punch at his shoulder that he doesn’t even bother to dodge.

“For your information, Iwasstudying, right before I came here.”

We’ve come out of the library into the chilly afternoon air, the breeze tugging at our hair like a live thing after the stillness of the library.

“What interrupted you?” Ares asks.

“I wanted to see you,” I reply simply.

Ares looks down at me, his eyes clear and beautiful beneath his thick, straight brows. “You did?” he says.

“Yeah. I really did.”

A smile tugs at the edges of his mouth, showing a glint of his strong, white teeth.

“So how do I look?”

“Pretty fucking gorgeous,” I tell him.

“You look like if autumn was a person,” he says, taking one wild red curl between his thumb and index finger. “You look like if the woods came alive. And they were extremely competitive.” He grins.

“Come walk with me,” I say.

“Alright,” Ares agrees.

We leave the castle grounds, heading directly to the strip of forest bordering the field.

Though we’ve walked this way so many times, there’s a deliberate intention in our steps that was never there before.

We’re not speaking, no need for words anymore.

As soon as we step beneath the canopy of a vast sweet gum tree, Ares throws his bag on the ground and seizes me, his hands on either side of my face. He kisses me deeply, the fallen leaves grinding beneath our feet, sending up a dry, sugary scent.

This time, I don’t wait to see if Ares will pull back or go further. I slide my hands down his body, touching his cock through his trousers.

I let out a sigh as I feel the thick bulge straining against the wool. He wants me. He absolutely fucking wants me.

It’s like I touched a switch. As soon as my fingers graze his cock, Ares throws me down on the ground. We had a late summer and an even later fall—I land in a blanket of thick, crunching leaves. Ares falls on top of me, finding my mouth once more, thrusting his tongue into it as his fingers fumble with the waistband of my pants.

He yanks my trousers down to my knees, my underwear going along with them. I expect him to touch me with his fingers, or maybe to just start fucking me.

Instead, he puts his head between my thighs and starts licking my pussy.

He eats my pussy exactly the way he kisses—his full, warm lips and his firm tongue attacking me in all my most sensitive places. He licks all over my pussy lips and around my entrance, pushing his tongue inside of me. Then he finds my clit and dances the tip of his tongue around it until I’m writhing and moaning, grabbing handfuls of his hair and grinding my hips against his face, begging for more.

He flattens his tongue and starts lapping my clit in long, steady strokes. At the same time, he slides one long, thick finger inside of me.

My pussy is on fire. It’s never been treated so good.

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