Page 66 of Kingdom of the Two Moons

I step even closer until I’m standing between his long, spread legs. He looks at me and then says, more quietly now, his voice deep and raw over my suddenly feverish skin, “Even closer.”

I move until I’m climbing on top of him,straddling him, my senses swamped by his sudden proximity. At the feeling of my body connecting with his.

Until his voice is nothing more than a murmur shaped by his lips against my neck. Cold, as if he feels none of what I’m feeling at the closeness. “Good girl. And now—amuse me.”

Amuse me. How? I have no experience at all.

One sidelong glance over to the woman who’s straddling Riven tells me enough of what he expects me to do. I blush deeply when I spot another one who’s settled between another man’s legs and is performing some up-and-down movements with her mouth, moaning softly every time she takes him in deeply.

I quickly look away again.

Amuse me.

I have no clue how to seduce a man. How to hide my inexperience. I’ve never been with a man before. Only with David, but that—

I force myself to place my hands on Caryan’s chest, trying hard to ignore the sensation of lightning and heat that jolts through my palms, as if I’ve immersed myself into an electric current.

It’s almost too much, almost painful.

He leans his head back against the sofa cushions, watching me through lashes nearly as long as Riven’s, his voice cold with cruel amusement as he whispers, “More.”

More.

I lean over him, shaking all over. All I manage to do is let my long hair fall into my face, shielding myself from his knowing gaze. As if I can hide behind it.

I wish Icouldhide as I let my fingers slip under the seam of his shirt, finding surprisingly smooth skin. His heat and power crawling into me. And then, tracing his sculpted collarbone, with fingers trembling even harder than before, I open one button of his blackshirt. Then another one. Exposing more skin, smooth and white as marble, stretching over chiseled muscles.

I fail to rein in my trembling as the third button follows. The last one. His shirt gapes open, revealing a torso that looks like that of a statue. A god forged of marble right under me.

I close my eyes against the sensation of his scent that engulfs me when I lean forward, closer to his neck. He smells like something wild, uncontained. Like a forest, like moss and sandalwood and pines and citrus and wet gravel, as if I’ve fallen into a magical, evergreen, enchanted forest. A scent that seems to speak directly to my soul.

It’s too much, too overwhelming. His closeness. His power, writhing through me like a living creature. His scent; swamping all my senses.

I no longer know what I’m doing when I gently let my fingers glide over the bare stretch of naked skin, down over the hard, muscled plane of his belly.

I forget that I’m a slave. Forget about where I am. Forget about everyone else.

Suddenly, all that matters is his touch, his scent all over me, around me. The whole world narrows down to the feeling of skin on skin.

I glance down at his face. At his lips specked with flakes of gold. Finding that the black behind his silver-rimmed lashes has morphed into liquefied gold as he beholds me.

Then something feral enters his gaze as he whispers, “More,” in a way that shifts me all over. His voice, deep and husky, almost a moan.

I bring my lips to his neck. Kissing the golden trace of paint on his exposed throat. His unringed fingers roam over my body before they dig into the naked flesh of my thighs where my dress must have slid up. Unrestrained now, as if he is no longer able to keep his hands passive. Bruising me. It sends another rush of heat through my veins that merges with the hum of his power.

I gasp slightly when I feel him pressing hard against me, whenI feel myself spreading my legs further, terrified by my own reaction.

But my senses are dizzy, flooded and unstable, as if I’m riotously drunk.

I shift a little to breathe more kisses onto his chest, my hands gliding further down to the seam of his pants.

He grabs me by the wrists and stops me midway.

For some precarious moments, we are face-to-face, his eyes on my lips, before he says, “That’s enough. You can go now.”

His voice is iced over, the total opposite of just moments before. But the same lucent, blazing gold still swims in his eyes, betraying him. The way they were when he drank my blood.It makes no sense.

“Did I do something wrong?” I whisper, my eyes wide with shock and fear. I need to ask. Need to know.

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