Page 52 of Lost Kingdom

“You said you won’t do things to me, sexually, unless I ask clearly and without duress.”

He snorts. “I don’t remember mentioning the last bit.”

“But what if I wanted to touch you?”Shut up. Shut up. Shut up! “What if I got a wild hair and a streak of bravery and just…” I peek along his firm body and stop on the black pants still covering his lower half. “Ya know?”

“Consider this my consent.” He drags his hand along my back and up to my neck, then he pulls me down until our lips touch. “From now until forever, I give you consent to do whatever the fuck you want to my body.”

“Says the little boy never taught autonomy.”

“Says the grown ass villain who fell in love with the little lamb. There’s nothing you could do to me that I wouldn’t want, so if you get that wild hair and think you’d like to try something out, go for it.” Another kiss. “Surprise me.”

“There’s something fundamentally wrong with you.”

“Yep.” He lies back in my lap. “But we knew that already. Read.”

“I walk the halls,” I read from the crisp white pages in front of me, gratified when his eyes instantly droop with comfort. “With my new queen squished between me and my little brother. Either Tully has no clue she has a new Guild wherever she walks… or she simply doesn’t mention it. But Ari needs no instruction to know his part in this new world order.”

17

TIM

WHERE DO DREAMS END AND REALITY BEGINS?

Pleasure ripples along my skin and down into my soul. But this isn’t the first time I’ve dreamed of Aubree Emeri while she’s slept right beside me, so I hold on to my drowsiness and groan as the steely pain in my cock becomes almost too much.

Almost. But never too much.

Her lips move over my flesh, confident nips of her teeth and feverish laves of her tongue. She teases my nipple and pants when I jump. But I’m careful not to race toward consciousness. I know, when I do, this ends, and life goes back to the way it is.

Dull. Painful. And without her being mine.

I drag my lip between my teeth and bite down until the pain is enough to keep the groan inside my chest, but I can’t stop the way my hand snakes south beneath the blankets. I can’t help but dig my hand into my shorts and wrap my palm around my cock.

Because this is how I cope every single day.

“Are you awake?” I can almost feel her breath in my ear. If I tried hard enough, I could almost pretend she’s really with me. Touching. Kissing. Marching me toward insanity. “Tim?”

I grin in my sleep and allow her to enter. Instead of touching my cock all alone, I welcome her into my dream until she crawls into bed beside me. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” I turn and bury my face against the warm skin of her neck. Where sweat almost beads and her pulse thunders out ofcontrol. “So fucking perfect.”

“You can touch me.” She reaches down with a shaking hand, her fingers hesitant and trembling, but she wraps them around my wrist and steals the touch from my cock. Which is new. My dreams usually involve her wrapping her lips around it instead.

Dragging my hand across, she splays my palm on her belly, then nudges it down until her lace underwear forms in my mind.

Darkness surrounds me, even in my dream world, but I still see her. I could summon her face, no matter where I am. No matter how dark, or how long since I last saw her in real life. I could draw her from memory, and place every single freckle that smatters her nose. Because I’ve counted them a million times over the years.

She covers them with makeup when we’re at weddings—two in a single week—but the rest of the time, when the world is normal and she’s sitting at my bar, eating fries and sipping soda, she leaves them alone for me to study.

“Tim?”

“Yeah.” I slide my hand into her panties and find her soaked and throbbing. Waiting. Desperate for touch and, because this is a dream, I get to do whatever the fuck I want and not worry about the consequences. So I dig two fingers into her fiery core and swallow down her cry of surprise. I bury my digits to the knuckles and slam my lips over hers, my tongue dueling for dominance. “You’re so much fucking tighter than I remember.” I drag her lip between my teeth and slide my fingers in. Deep, until I can’t go deeper. And rough, though she deserves gentle. “Fuck, Aubree.”

Her body turns taut, but her breath races out to bathe my cheek. “It’s dark,” she whispers. “And we’re in this fantasy world where nothing else matters. What do you want to do to me?”

“Taste you.” I toss our blankets aside, thankful for the crackling fireplace across the room, then I crawl between her legs and peel her underwear down. Threads snap and Aubree cries out. But this is a dream, and fuck, but my dreams are my favorite place to be.

I drag the fabric along her legs and over her feet, then I toss them. Gone, into the ether of my dreamscape. But it doesn’t matter, because my nirvana awaits. I lie on my stomach and press my hands to the backs of her thighs, then I fold her legs up and reveal all of her to me. Her sweet pussy, glistening in the firelight, and her puckered asshole, throbbing with want.

With need.

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