Page 277 of Kingdoms of Night

Using his shoulders to spread her wider, Geraint latched on to the tight bud at the apex of Enid’s thighs. She cried out, her body already shaking. Her fingers dug into his scalp. She held on as he began to lave at her, lapping up every single drop of ambrosia before it could start a path down her inner thigh. Not a morsel of her escaped him.

Geraint sucked and suckled. He licked and laved. He tasted and toyed until she was a quivering mess of limbs standing over him. If he hadn’t been holding her steady, she would’ve long since collapsed.

He kept her pressed tightly to him as he worked her with his tongue, with his teeth. Even his nose got a bit of the action, dipping into her throbbing core as he tugged at the folds of her labia.

When her orgasm rocked her, Geraint tightened his hold on her ass, keeping her pressed firmly to him. All the while, his tongue continued its carnal assault on her core, flicking over her clit and delving into her opening to extend the pleasurable contractions of her inner muscles.

Even after the quaking lessened to aftershocks, he couldn’t bring himself to release his mouth from her. It had taken only moments to become addicted to the taste of her, and this was a drug he would never quit. He vowed to be a good and dutiful addict for the rest of his life.

“Looks like I was wrong,” she said, her voice breathy. “I am a virgin. No one’s ever done that to me before.”

Geraint grinned as he steadied her on her feet. He let the folds of her gown fall back into place as he looked up at her. Her face was flushed with pure pleasure, a pleasure that he had put there. He’d never felt more like a man than in this moment gazing up at his wife.

When he went to stand to take her into his arms, he felt rooted to the floor. Looking down at himself, he saw that he was covered with vines. They twined around his arms and crisscrossed his chest. A few flowers had even bloomed, giving off more of that fragrant scent he’d found between Enid’s thighs.

He looked back up at his wife. She grinned down at him. And then he was airborne.

CHAPTERNINETEEN

Enid had heard many courtiers talk about their escapades with other males. How one fae could bend their vines so good that they bloomed. Blooming had never happened to her.

Until now. And with a human male, no less.

Every other encounter of her life had been wiped from her memory the moment her knight touched his tongue to her core. She had suspected he didn’t know what to do sexually. It turned out she was the one with so much to learn. And that’s exactly what she was going to do.

With a tug of her wrists, she twined her husband and sent his large body onto the bed. Instead of balking at her show of power, Geraint chuckled. The shake of his head sent the flowers that had bloomed in his hair onto the pillows.

Enid knew she should feel vulnerable and maybe even a little shy at the passionate display she’d exhibited. Never once had she lost control and twined around a man. But evidence of her arousal and desire were all over her husband in tiny purple blooms. And so were his clothes.

Enid took a step toward the bed, readying to remedy the clothing issue.

“Wait,” Geraint said before she could get a leg up on the bed.

Her guard instantly went up. Had she taken things too far? She’d been so comfortable with him, so relaxed, so ready to trust. With another twist of her wrist, she loosened the hold of the vines.

"Please," he said, making no move to free himself. "Let me see you."

Enid stared at him for a moment. She turned his words over in her head, trying to parse out their meaning. Geraint lay back on the mattress, his legs and hands covered by her vines. His gaze roamed her body, her clothed body.

Finally catching his meaning, Enid stepped back from the bed and began to disrobe. As the petals of her clothing fell away, Geraint was left to look at the different shades of purple that were on her skin.

His mouth watered. His eyes glistened. He didn't blink or breathe.

No, that last bit was wrong. He did breathe. He took a long, deep inhale. His eyelids grew heavy but never completely lost their focus on her.

“You are perfection,” he said, his voice quiet yet resonant as though he were giving thanks to the Goddess. "I will worship you for the rest of my days, Enid. You have my sword. You have my heart."

She stood naked before this man that was bound by her magic, yet it was his words that stripped her bare. What surprised her most was that she believed him. Had he said those words to another of her kind, they would bind him to them just as a vine twined itself around the trunk of a tree or any stronger structure to take its support.

Enid didn’t have to cling to Geraint. She didn’t have to trick him. Any vow he gave to her, he gave of his own free will, which made it even more powerful.

They were right; Geraint was a good man. He would never understand what a gift that was to someone who’d grown up in a treacherous world where words were twisted and used to cut deep. Her knight would never cut her, and she would never let anything or anyone corrupt the goodness in him.

With another wave of her hand, Enid divested Geraint of his clothing. The fabrics were mostly cotton. As all plants did, the fibers obeyed her command and pulled from his body.

Geraint barely noticed. His gaze remained on her. "I will never lie to you again. I will never force you—"

"You haven't forced me, sir.”

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