Page 24 of Red Queen

Somehow, I break free, grabbing her, and spinning her to press her into the door. Her hands my prisoner as I kick her feet wide. I clamp down on the urge to press into her so I can show her just what she does to me.

She knows.

“Eleanna,” I say against her ear, my tongue sliding her the curves of hers, trailing kisses over her cheek and down to the corner of her mouth. “You are the most vexing, delicious,fuckable woman I’ve met. I could live forever and want to fuck you.”

I suspect I could love her in that broken way where I hate her, too, for forever.

But I keep that to myself. She’ll take it as a victory when it’s anything but.

We have a chance to build something, but not like she is now. I have to break the cruelness. Crush it down so she has room to grow. Room to see other ways. Room to become the queen she really was born to be. Not this creature he trained her to be.

She knows how I feel about him so right now there’s no point in repeating the man was a monster who wanted to turn her into one too, so he could live on in her and her decisions.

Besides, there’s a time for that fight and a time for this one. I want the sexual fight. The burn of release, the exquisite stripping of her.

“I want that, too.” Her voice is rough with need and it seems to suck on my cock.

The game tortures both her and me.

“I want you naked,” I say.

“You have to let me go so I can strip.”

The naked and the stripping is one that goes beyond flesh and clothes. Her soul. Her essence. I want those stripped, naked, exposed.

Of course… I’ll take her flesh, too.

My control threatens to snap. “I don’t have to do anything.” I slide my hand to her hips, then I gather her long skirt, pulling it up.

I slide my fingers between her thighs, through the slick wetness, those soft intimate lips crying out for my tongue and mouth.

“You, ready for me, dripping, inviting, is perfection.” Her ass is the exquisite and I want nothing more than to drop down,bury my face between her thighs, push a finger into her, into both her ass and her pussy.

I want to bring her tumbling into orgasm with my mouth. I want my cock deep inside her. I want everything there is in all the ways and I want that forever to do it in.

She pushes back into me and in a flash, my control snaps. I pull out of my torture play she loves so much and let her skirt floor. I lean my head into the curve of her shoulder, and breathe her in. She’s night jasmine, like an unexpected hint of a snow flower blooming in a blizzard. It’s a rich scent and pure.

Like Eleanna herself, her scent is both simple and complex and something that should never be taken at face value. Because beneath the surface there’s so much more, another universe.

Centering myself the erratic rhythm of her pulse as it threads and leaps against my lips, I get the heat in me under control.

It’s tenuous, but I’ll take what I can get. The dark red skirt that brushes the floor laces around her waist. I undo it, pushing it down so it pools at her feet. Crouching, I lift each leg and remove her shoes, kissing the arch of one foot then I rise and take a beat to appreciate the black corset.

Eleanna owns this look. Black and red. Red and red. Sometimes black and black. But this corset is one for show, from the way I noted how it cups her breasts to the intricate laces that cinch it in place, down her back. This was hidden beneath her red cloak, but now… I slide a finger over the cords, touching the smooth peeks of bare pale flesh that show. She’s a snow flower in bloom.

“Did you wear this for me, Eleanna?” I ask.

She glares over her shoulder. “I didn’t exactly pack, Alexandru.”

No, but she’s a queen and I have skilled seamstresses here, those who create the clothes we all wear, down in the stock roomof rich materials that is warm and dry, all year round. They created this for her. All her clothes.

“You could have gone utilitarian. Dressed as a soldier, or a simple woman.”

“Don’t insult me,” she says, “I’m a queen and I’ll dress as one.”

I close in on her, undoing the lace as I trace over her back, pulling the cords free as I do. And with my free hand, I push a finger into her and start to thrust. She must be able to feel my erection as I drape myself over her, the corset undone, the cord mine, because I can’t hide it.

“And you dressed for me.” I run my mouth and tongue tip light over her cheek to the corner of her lips. “Didn’t you?”

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