Page 35 of Traitor Son

“Do it,” he whispered, angling his head to catch her thumb between his lips, his black eyes glinting like a proper demon of lust. “Whatever you were thinking.”

She wasn’t thinking anything. The feel of his teeth nipping her thumb had driven all capacity for thought from her head. She stared at him with wide eyes, feeling as if her heart and breath had frozen together as his mouth moved down, biting her wrist, licking at her pulse point like a flame. His breath burned the sensitive skin of her inner arm, scorched her shoulders, and her breath exploded out in a gasp as he tugged down the neck of her chemise and buried his face in her breasts.

“I have wanted to taste these fordays,”he said, muffled, as his hungry mouth found her nipple. Why did it feel so good when he did that? Every tug of his lips seemed to lift her up all the way from her toes, short jerks that made her head fall back and something clench tight in her belly. Her hands sank into his hair, thick and unruly, curling at the back of his neck.

“Your Grace…” She moaned breathlessly as he sucked both breasts, one and then the other, ravenous. His tongue circled each nipple, licking them into hardened peaks, and between her legs she felt his finger pierce her.

“You’re already wet,” he murmured, lifting his head to look at her. “You want me so much?”

“Well, it feels good,” she admitted honestly, feeling her cheeks heat, and gasped as a second finger entered her, a taut stretch inside that made her voice quaver. “Hoooow do you…haaa…know what…know what feels good?”

“I asked Miche,” he answered, with a glint of humor. “I didn’t know myself. I never had a woman before you.”

“Never?” That shocked her. Especially since he said it while his long fingers were sliding in and out, circling inside, seeking out places that made her mind haze white. She wanted to think about it, what it meant, whether it made her happy, but then his fingertips bore down on that tickling, troublesome spot inside her and a wail burst from her lips.

“Never,” he said hoarsely, and bit her neck, licking up her throat with his tongue. “So you have to be careful, you can’t claim a man’s body and not be responsible for it.”

The thought tickled her.

“Are you saying I should…o-ohhh…I should be gentle, Your Grace?” she asked breathlessly, daring a small joke, and then clutched his shoulder as his fingers slid deep. What was he doing that felt so good? His fingers stroked, circled, rubbed again at that place inside her and it was making her dissolve as if he were rubbing away at the edge of her sanity.

“Remin,” he panted, low and excited. “Call my name.”

She could feel that hardened part of him straining underneath her, pushing hot and urgent at her backside. And though she vividly remembered the pain, she was crimson with the thought thatthatfelt even better than his fingers, she wanted him to do it to her again. Did that make her a lewd woman? Shouldn’t she pretend like she didn’t like it so much?

She bit her lips, her body straining toward release, fighting back her cries so hard that tears streaked from the corners of her eyes. Her breath came in gasps and she couldn’t even hear what he was saying, she knew nothing but feeling, his fingers inside her and his hard arms around her, as if he were the only thing keeping her tethered to the world.

“Remin,” she managed, trembling as if she were going to shake herself apart. “Hnnnnn,ahhhhnn, ah, Remin!”

She didn’t even know the word for what was happening to her, vulgar or technical. It justhappened,her breath seizing in her lungs and then exploding outward, and she felt his hot lips on her belly, his hand on her breast, his fingers stroking, stroking, heating her to boiling. She felt like she was bubbling, she was water, so wet she was dissolving as she climaxed in high, gasping cries.

“Wife, wife, Ophele…” Remin was rapidly disrobing, yanking at his jerkin and dragging his shirt over his head. She had the impression of his naked body, a glimpse of a hard and reddened member, but everything was hazy as a dream until he plunged it inside her.

* * *

Both of them cried out together. Remin was shaking with the effort of restraining himself. He didn’t want to hurt her again. He didn’t know how hard it was safe to go, though he knew how hard hewantedto go, it felt so good inside her that all he wanted to do was grab her and pound himself blind, to etch his body into hers like a hammer and chisel.

“Tell me if it hurts,” he rasped as he began to move. He had always enjoyed the feeling of his own body working, the coiling flex of muscle and sinew, but he had never been so intensely aware of it as when he was with her. The twin cords of heavy muscle in his lower back, the longmuscles of his thighs, even the negligible burden of her body on the muscles of his arms, so much strength leashed and quivering as he pressed into her with torturous care. Her body stretched around him, inner walls pulsating.

Ophele clutched his wrists, gasping. Was it good that he had made her climax first before he put it in her? Maybe it was too much. He could see tears trembling on her eyelashes, but her thighs were squeezing his waist, lifting her hips to meet him as if she wanted it.

“Do you like it?” he panted, dragging himself back out of her and feeling her body cling to him, a heated wet grip that made him feel hard as iron. It must feel good, it couldn’t possibly feel this good only to him.

“Y-yes…” she breathed, her eyes screwed tight shut as he stroked back into her, a reedy whisper. “Yes…yes, ohhhhh, feels good…”

He wasn’t going to last long if she was going to make noises like that. Not with her devouring and massaging him until he could feel the heat flood all the way up to his face. A vast buzzing filled his ears and the pulse of the blood in his veins was so hard and deep he could feel it to the root of his manhood.

Her breasts heaved. Her lips parted as she gasped, and he gasped with her. Again, a deep thrust that she met with intoxicating eagerness, her silky insides sucking him in. Again, their bodies meeting with such perfection that it felt as if they were breathing together, moaning together, their hearts racing together, throbbing and pulsing and beating together in flawless rhythm. His hips withdrew and plunged forward and she was there to meet him, straining her small, lovely body to take all of him in.

“Ophele,” he groaned. He was so close he was seeing stars in his peripheral vision, golden sparks like he was on fire, or maybe both of them were, blazing. “Ophele, wife—”

“Yes, I am too, yes, yes,” she breathed, her back arching in a sudden spasm of pleasure, understanding him in a way that went beyond words because she was with him and the time was now. Gripping her hips in his hands, his lips peeled back from his teeth as hepounded,a rumbling grunt huffing from his chest. More. More. More, more, more, she was gripping him so hard he didn’t know how he was going to pull himself out of her, balanced right on the flash point of their conflagration.

He was going to have to pull out of hersoon.He could feel the shuddering spasms wracking her body, like the tremors before an earthquake. Harder, harder, hammering into her, and he felt her erupt in a blaze of heat and a flood of wetness, working him violently to completion. Remin yanked himself out of her as he came, pinning her to the floor as he climaxed on top of her.

Stars. It was so intense, so searing, so vast, it was like the immensity of the sky, dark and trembling with the blaze of distant stars behind his eyelids. He held her to him as he finished, his sides heaving as he inhaled huge lungfuls of air. His heart was beating like a Vallethi war drum.

“It’s cold on the floor,” he said dazedly, turning his face to kiss her. Honestly, he never wanted to move again, but he wanted her to get sick even less. “Can you stand?”

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